Review: "Horn Calls" summon audiences to a delightfully diverse musical afternoon

When St. Louis Symphony Orchestra Principal Horn Roger Kaza and Fourth Horn Julie Thayer started putting together the program for the “Horn Calls” program presented at the Sheldon last Sunday (April 7), the first piece they thought of was the rarely heard Sextet in E-flat major, Op. 81b, by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827). As Thayer recalled, before Sunday’s performance, their last performance of the work took place under less than ideal conditions outdoors during the early days of the COVID pandemic. “We thought climate control would be a good addition,” she said.

I can hardly disagree. But climate control was far from the most important reason both the Beethoven Sextet (which concluded the concert) and the other works on the program were so successful. Pride of place must go to the generally high quality of the performances by Kaza, Thayer, and their fellow members of the SLSO—closely followed by the impressive diversity of the program.

Valveless "natural horn," 1797
wikipedia.org

The afternoon got off to a light-hearted start with the March in F major, K. 248, by W.A. Mozart (1756–1791). It’s a pleasant little thing scored for string quartet with two horns thrown in to lend a more martial air to the proceedings.  It’s a trifle and got a fine performance by violinists Jessica Chang Hellwege and Asako Kuboki, violist Andrew François, and cellist Alvin McCall, with Kaza and Thayer on horns. Mozart didn’t give the horns much to do in this piece since the valveless horns of the 18th had limited capabilities, but it was done quite well by Kaza and Thayer in any case.

Next, the mood became contemplative with “Solitude,” the second of the four movements from the suite of incidental music Jean Sibelius (1865–1957) wrote for the play “Belshazzar's Feast” in 1906. Originally scored for wind septet, “Solitude” had a kind of aural glow in this serene performance of an arrangement for five horns (Julie Thayer, Thomas Jöstlein, Blaine Dodson, Tod Bowermaster, and Victoria Knudtson) by Seattle-based horn player Danielle Kuhlmann.

The serenity continued with “Its Motion Keeps” by Caroline Shaw (b. 1982). Originally scored for treble choir (sopranos and altos) and solo viola, the work takes on a very different character in John Glover’s arrangement for horn quartet. The evocation of multiple choirs singing in reverberant stone cathedrals in Shaw’s original can’t be duplicated, but Glover uses muted vs. unmuted horns to create a remarkable illusion of acoustic space. Congratulations to Thayer, Dodson, Bowermaster, and Knudtson for a fine reading of some challenging music.

Principal Horn Roger Kaza
Photo courtesy of the SLSO

Speaking of challenging music, the score of the 1952 Sonata for Four Horns by Paul Hindemith (1896–1963) looks daunting if not downright scary. Complex polyphony, frequent time signature changes, rapid-fire passages with lots of accidentals, double- and triple-tonguing, and a wide tessitura—Hindemith threw everything he had into the short four-movement work. And he did it within the context of traditional forms like the Fugato opening movement and the theme-and-variations last movement.

The quartet of Kaza, Thayer, Knudtson, and Jöstlein played all of this with an assurance that made it sound far less thorny than it looks on paper. Unforgiving runs of sixteenth notes were cleanly articulated, the lines of the Fugato were clearly delineated, and the galloping final variations of the third movement were positively jolly.

The second half of the concert began with a pleasant surprise: a new work by Jöstlein inspired by the April 8th solar eclipse and scored for the unusual combination of two horns and three alphorns. Originally intended for outdoor communication among Swiss shepherds, these massive wooden instruments provided a solid drone over which a simple melodic rose and fell, invoking a sense of space and wonder. A pair of follow spots, one yellow and one blue, played the roles of sun and moon, coming together and then parting in time with the music.

The composer added to the visual element, playing his alphorn while decked out in a stylish modern version of the Tyrolean shepherd shirt.

L-R: Tod Bowermaster, Natalie Grana,
Thomas Jöstlein with alphorns

Things got a bit more serious as all six horns played the “Tristan Fantasy” by Herman Jeurissen, Principal Horn of the Residentie Orchestra in The Hague. As the title suggests, it’s an arrangement of themes from “Tristan und Isolde” by Richard Wagner (1813–1883). The solemn theme of Tristan’s death opens and closes the seven-minute work, bracketing the music of the opera’s lively hunting scene. The work got a solid, powerful performance by the ensemble.

Up next was another world premiere, this time by University of Missouri student composer J.T. Wolfe (b. 2002). Commissioned by the SLSO as part of its ongoing partnership with the university, “Cor for Four Horns” is a study in what Wolfe called “extended techniques” for the instrument. In practice, that meant that the quartet members were called upon to get every conceivable type of sound from their instruments, musical and otherwise. That included “white noise” effects created by blowing through the horns while manipulating the valves and even playing the mouthpieces without the instruments for a kazoo-like effect.

As a display of sheer virtuosity by the musicians, “Cor” was a fascinating piece. As music, it left something to be desired, feeling more like an aural high wire act. Still, it shows that Wolfe already has a deep understanding of instrumental technique, a skill which will stand him in good stead in his career.

The afternoon concluded with the Beethoven Sextet, performed by the same personnel as the opening Mozart march. Written around 1795 as the composer was just starting to make a name for himself in Vienna, the sextet shares a key signature with the later Symphony No. 3 (“Eroica”) but is otherwise a pretty well-behaved late Classical serenade: cheerful, easy on the ears, and mainstream in its form. With a sunny first movement in sonata form, a lyrical second, and a lively concluding Rondo, it could pass for late Haydn (with whom Beethoven was much impressed at the time).

Fourth Horn Julie Thayer
Photo courtesy of the SLSO

The horn parts, however, are a break from tradition. The horn was still the valveless instrument Mozart was writing for two decades earlier, but the first horn in particular has a much flashier role to play, suggesting that Beethoven might have had a particularly skilled player in mind.

In her pre-performance comments, Julie Thayer noted that the part called for the grace and flexibility of a ballerina, both of which she displayed in abundance. The same goes for Roger Kaza, whose role as second horn was almost as demanding. As in the Mozart, the teamwork among the six players was flawless, resulting a standing ovation from the audience—a well-deserved recognition for a superbly played afternoon of mostly unfamiliar works.

Next from the SLSO: This Saturday and Sunday, April 13 and 14, frequent guest conductor Norman Huynh is at the podium for “Star Wars: the Last Jedi in Concert” at the Stifel Theatre.

The regular season returns April 19 through 21 as another familiar face, John Storgårds, conducts the orchestra and soloist Marie-Ange Nguci in Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2. The concert also includes the Symphony No. 7 and “Rakastava (The Lover)” by Sibelius along with “Lysning (Glade)” by contemporary Danish composer Per Nørgård. Performances take place at the Touhill Performing Arts Center on the University of Missouri-St. Louis campus. The Saturday evening concert will be broadcast live on St. Louis Public Radio and Classic 107.3.

Review: Great chamber music from the SLSOs "inner circle" at The Sheldon

I have periodically described the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) as an ensemble of virtuosi. The SLSO “Live at the Sheldon” concert last night (Wednesday, February 7) was a welcome opportunity to hear five of those virtuosi in action. Curated by Concertmaster David Halen and Principal Second Violin Alison Harney, the evening was an impressive mix of works old and new for string quartet with Principal Viola Beth Guterman Chu and Associate Principal Cello Melissa Brooks, and in the second half, with SLSO principal Keyboardist, Peter Henderson on piano.

L-R: Peter Henderson, Alison Harney, 
Beth Guterman Chu, David Halen,
Melissa Broois

Halen and Harney introduced the program with some interesting comments on the differences and similarities between playing chamber music and leading their respective sections in orchestral concerts. Halen noted that these four form the "inner circle" of string players, meaning they are positioned at the front of their respective sections, closest to the conductor. This setup allows for a rough approximation of playing chamber music, as they are near each other. At the same time, though, they must remain mindful of leading their respective sections, which limits the intimate give-and-take that is characteristic of chamber music. That insight provided a fascinating glimpse into how the musical sausage is made.

It was made with quality ingredients last night, beginning with the Andante Cantabile second movement from the String Quartet No. 2 in A minor by Florence Price (1887–1953). Composed in 1935 (just two years after the premiere of her unjustly neglected Symphony No. 3), the quartet displays the mix of early twentieth-century chromaticism and African American melodic material that characterizes so much of Price’s music. Coming as it does immediately after the large-scale drama of the first movement, the Andante Cantabile offers a welcome change of pace in the form of a lyrical cradle song. A rocking two-note ostinato in the second violin supports a gentle theme that Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904), whose Piano Quintet concluded the concert, would have surely appreciated.

The quartet’s performance of this little gem was exceptional as they played with seamless teamwork. It was evident that they had a great rapport and communicated with each other effortlessly. Indeed, this performance was characteristic of the entire evening. It was surprising to start the concert with such a gentle and charming piece of music, but the quartet pulled it off with great finesse.

The generally contemplative mood continued with the world premiere of “The Art of Dreaming” by Robyne Sieh (b. 2002), a 2020 winner of the Missouri Composers Project competition who has since moved to a career as a composer, pianist, and arranger. The brief work opens with a yearning first theme which gives way to a more contemplative second before moving to a more agitated section. I’m not sure how the music connected with either the title or Sieh’s description of it as being about a composer’s duty to “bring color to this world,” but the quartet’s sympathetic performance certainly made a good case for it.

Bringing color to the world is, however, a respectable description of what Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) did with his first and only String Quartet. Like his fellow Impressionist Claude Debussy, Ravel was wont to paint in musical watercolors, at least early in his career. The quartet inhabits a hazy, shifting, and sometimes indeterminate emotional landscape and poses a fair number of technical challenges.

The quartet gave an outstanding performance that captured the composer's quicksilver mood shifts while maintaining a consistent sense of momentum. When the melodic line jumped rapidly among the instruments, those leaps were always clear. The lively second movement's pizzicatos, trills, and tremolos were light and precise. The third movement (Très lent) was suitably eerie and nocturnal, while the finale bristled with energy.

Above all, Halen, Harney, Guterman Chu, and Brooks played with a cohesive ensemble sound, despite the somewhat chilly acoustics of the Sheldon’s balcony. Ravel’s scoring is remarkably democratic, with each of the four instruments given equal weight, which amply rewards serious teamwork.

The concert closed with the 1887 Piano Quintet in A major, Op. 81, by Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904), a work aptly described by writer/cellist J. Anthony McAllister as “easily one of the finest examples of late Romantic chamber music.” First performed on January 8, 1888 at a concert in the Rudolfinum in Prague, the Piano Quintet was enthusiastically received and quickly became a hot item for the composer’s publisher, Simrock. The work’s combination of craftsmanship and melodic appeal has kept it firmly in the musical mainstream ever since.

The addition of Henderson was a welcome addition to the ensemble. Over the years, I have been impressed by Henderson’s technique and versatility, playing everything from Haydn to Frederic Rzewski on everything from harpsichord to synthesizer. So I expected (and got) superb playing that stood out when it was supposed to and blended seamlessly with his fellow musicians the rest of the time.

The performance paid a great tribute to the essence of Dvořák's worldview, which brilliantly blends the contrasting elements of light and darkness. This was most apparent in the quartet’s performance of the Andante con moto second movement, which is based on the Czech dumka, a dance characterized by a mix of mirth and melancholy. The wistful little opening theme got a most sympathetic treatment by Henderson and Guterman Chu. The wild Vivace of the central section was delivered with gusto by the full ensemble, making the final return to the opening mood that much more poignant.

Next, we got a wonderfully incendiary third movement Furiant, followed by an Allegro finale (complete with a bit of fugal counterpoint) that brought the audience to its feet. Yes, the old “standing O” is easy to get in this country, but it was well-earned Wednesday night.

This was my first chance to catch one of the SLSO’s chamber music concerts at the Sheldon. I do believe I’m going to have to attend more of them in the future.

Next from the SLSO: Stéphane Denève returns to conduct the orchestra and chorus in Orff’s ever-popular “Carmina Burana,” along with works by Arvo Pärt, Wagner, and contemporary composer Lera Auerbach. Performances are Saturday at 7:30 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, February 17 and 18, at the Stifel Theater.

Bravo! Vail Episode 1: Rocky mountain hydrate

[Being the first in a series of dispatches from the 2023 Bravo! Vail Music Festival.]

“Hydrate” was the word of the day as yours truly and a group of seven other members of the Music Critics Association of North America arrived in Vail, Colorado, on Tuesday July 11th for a week at the Bravo! Vail Music Festival.

Rocky mountain high
Photo: Jennifer Melick

It was the word of the day not because of Vail’s pleasantly low humidity (hovering around 20% during the day) but rather the fact that, at around 8,000 ft. above sea level, this popular resort town is high enough to cause altitude sickness for some of us flatlanders.

For most of us (including me) it’s pretty mild and one adjusts quickly. Personally I found myself breathing hard after a couple of flights of stairs for the first 24 hours.

For musicians, though, the adjustment can be a bit more tricky. Playing an instrument (regardless of the type) is, believe it or not, a form of aerobic activity, and a hydration break may be necessary now and then during a concert.

That’s what happened at our first concert of the week, a rouser of an evening of works by Haydn, Revueltas, Piazzola, von Weber, and Paquito D’Rivera by the Dalí Quartet and clarinetist Ricardo Morales . The break came right after a stunner of a performance of Haydn’s 1772 String Quartet in F minor, Op. 20 No. 5 but given the high level of physical involvement these performers (especially violinists Ari Isaacman-Beck and Carlos Rubio) have with their music, I’m surprised they didn’t need one more often.

Tuesday night the Dalí Quartet threw themselves into their program with reckless abandon, close communication, and a degree of sheer virtuosity that was a joy to behold. Whether it was von Weber’s bubbly Clarinet Quintet in B-flat major, Op. 34 or the fiery String Quartet No. 2, “Magueyes,” written in 1931 by the short-lived (1899 – 1940) Mexican composer/violinist Silvestre Revueltas, the Dalí Quartet radiated a sheer delight in music making that was, as the lyric goes, “simply irresistible.”

The Revueltas quartet was particularly striking. Dating from a time in the composer’s life when he was particularly interested in highlighting the urban soundscape and popular music of Mexico City, the work in characterized by rhythmic complexity along with frequent and abrupt transitions between atonal violence and haunting lyricism.  Subtitled Ocho por Radio ("Eight for Radio")—which as an Old Radio Guy, I rather appreciate—this is music that called for and got that mix of precision and passion I mentioned earlier.

It was followed by a bit of a palette cleanser in the form of Astor Piazzola’s “Tango Ballet,” written as the soundtrack for a 1956 film that has since disappeared. The seven movements were classic Piazzola, with seductive dance rhythms evoking a world of smoky bars, strong liquor, and sinuous dancers.

The Dalí Quartet and clarinetist Ricardo Morales
Photo courtesy of Bravo! Vail.

Perhaps the biggest hit of the evening was the von Weber quintet. It took the composer three years to complete it (1812 to 1815, but who’s counting?) and it was worth the wait. It’s likely you have heard it at some point either in concert on the radio—the “rippling rhythm” of the clarinet and cello interchange in the third movement Menuetto capriccio is a genuine ear worm—but if this was your first experience with it, I hope you loved as much as we did in the audience.

Soloist Morales (brother of Dalí cellist Jesús Morales and a member of the Philadelphia Orchestra) has a seamless, fluid tone throughout his register—a crucial skill for a work which pushes the clarinet to its limits. The standing ovation that followed this final work of the evening was spontaneous and heartfelt.

The concert closed with the spiky Latin jazz of Paquito D’Rivera’s brief but provocative “Preludio y Merengue.”

The Dalí Quartet champions Latin American music, as both first violinist Ari Isaacman-Beck and violist Adriana Linares noted during a brief post-concert talkback with Bravo Festival Artistic Director (and accomplished pianist) Anne-Marie McDermott. Isaacman-Beck added that the experience of mixing European classics with newer music from Latin America has made the newer works feel more familiar the familiar classical feel new.

They certainly did that last night with the von Weber and the Haydn, which took on added degrees of depth and passion without ever straying from the classic framework. The fact that the quartet dates from Haydn’s sturm und drang period helped, but even so this was a remarkable performance.

Next: Prokofiev in chiesa, Tchaikovsky and Price al fresco.

Digital Symphony Review: The SLSO does recycling in a program of chamber music by Strauss and Schubert

Available for on-demand streaming through August 31st, the fourth of five videos in the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra’s digital series comes from a pair of concerts recorded in an audience-free Powell Hall last spring. Both of the two works on this one-hour program engage in musical recycling but they do so in very different ways.

Till Eulenspiegel, einmal anders!

The video opens with Richard Strauss’s popular orchestral tone poem “Till Eulenspiegels lustige streiche” (“Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks”) retooled by violinist/composer Franz Hasenöhrl  and retitled “Till Eulenspigel, einmal anders!) (“Till Eulenspiegel Another Way!)”.  Hasenöhrl cut Strauss’s piece to half its original length and reorchestrated it for five players, so hearing it is rather like viewing Strauss’s big, splashy original through the wrong end of a telescope. Still, all of the composer’s snarky, rambunctious fun survives intact, even if it does create a real workout for the five musicians.

The players are up for it, though. Associate Principal Second Violin Kristin Ahlstrom and bassist Sarah Hogan Kaiser impressively represent the entire string section while clarinetist Ryan Toher, horn player Victoria Knudtson, and Principal Bassoon Andrew Cuneo carry the flag for the winds. Knudtson knocks the infamously difficult opening solo right out of the park while Toher and Cuneo turn in equally praiseworthy performances of their many solo passages.  The performance was originally released as part of a live video broadcast, so it’s good to have it available on demand. It deserves a wider audience.

The rest of the program is taken up with an example of musical expansion instead of contraction.  Schubert’s Piano Quintet in A major, D. 667, was written in 1819 as a commission for Sylvester Paumgartner, a wealthy amateur cellist. The composer used the theme from his earlier song “Die Forelle” (“The Trout”) as the basis for a series of variations in the fourth of the quintet’s five movements and it has been known as the “Trout Quintet” ever since. Given that Schubert’s original song runs only a little over two minutes vs. around 45 for the full quintet, it might seem odd to name the entire work after it, but the tune is a genuine “ear worm”—so jaunty and appealing that it's unforgettable.

The "Trout" Quintet

The performance by members of the SLSO is pretty jaunty and appealing as well. Kristen Ahlstrom, Principal Viola Beth Guterman Chu, Principal Cello Daniel Lee, Associate Principal double bass Aleck Belcher, and pianist Peter Henderson (who should, in my view, be Principal Keyboard but isn’t) all work seamlessly as a team. The videography makes it easy to admire the way the string players stay in visual contact with each other as well as with Henderson, even though he’s not facing the quartet directly. Closeups provide intimate glimpses of the emotional engagement of each player with Schubert’s appealing score.

The frequent shifts between light and darkness that are so much a part of Schubert’s style are expertly handled, although there are, perhaps, fewer of those in this mostly sunny and leisurely work than in the composer’s other chamber music. Certainly the performance radiates good cheer, even in the more lyrical Andante second movement.

Unlike the Strauss/Hasenöhrl remix, this performance has not been publicly released, so this is your first chance to experience it. I think you'll find that it was worth the wait.

The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra’s concert of chamber music by Schubert and Richard Strauss is available via on-demand video through August 31st. Visit the SLSO web site for more information.

Symphony Preview: Daily double, Part 1

The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) offers you a chance to double your listening pleasure this weekend with two very different performances: a chamber music evening on Friday, November 5th, and a program of orchestral works by Sibelius, Shostakovich, and James Lee III on Saturday and Sunday, November 6th and 7th.  The two programs are linked only by the presence of violinist and conductor Nikolaj Szeps-Znaider, who sets aside the conductor hat he wore last weekend (it’s invisible but very fashionable, I’m told) and dons the mantle of violinist as both a collaborator and a soloist.

[Preview the music with my commercial-free Spotify playlist.]

For this article, we’ll concentrate on Friday’s chamber music concert, which shows him in his collaborator role with SLSO musicians Erin Schreiber (violin); Jonathan Chu and Chris Tantillon (viola); Melissa Brooks and Jennifer Humphreys (cello); and Scott Andrews (clarinet). The program consists of only two works: Mozart’s Clarinet Quintet in A Major, K. 581 (1789) and the String Sextet No. 1 in B-Flat Major (1860) of Brahms.

The pairing offers an excellent opportunity to contemplate the degree to which a particular piece of music does or doesn’t reflect the emotional landscape of the composer at the time of its creation.

Mozart, as drawn by Doris Stock, 1789

Mozart’s quintet (scored for a standard string quartet plus the clarinet) sounds like the work of a happy man. There’s a longing in the Larghetto second movement and even a bit of melancholy in a viola passage in the Allegretto con variazione finale, but overall this is music that radiates good cheer.  

And yet, Mozart’s life at the time was anything but cheerful. He was living in Vienna by then and while he initially enjoyed great success there, by the late 1780s audiences, critics, and students were losing interest in him. His fortunes were at such a low ebb that he was reduced to writing letters begging for money from his fellow Mason, the prosperous textile merchant Michael Puchberg. “To Puchberg’s honor,” writes Donald J. Grout (in his “History of Western Music”) “he always responded to Mozart’s appeals.”

A 1790 letter to his wife Constanze from Frankfurt (where Mozart was seeking employment to shore up his family’s declining fortunes) reveals his mood at the time:

I get all excited like a child when I think about being with you again — If people could see into my heart I should almost feel ashamed. Everything is cold to me — ice-cold. — If you were here with me, maybe I would find the courtesies people are showing me more enjoyable, — but as it is, it’s all so empty (from volume 1 of John C. Kirkland’s “Love Letters of Great Men”)

So, no, not exactly a joyful period. Indeed, only a year later Mozart would die in poverty, leaving his great “Requiem” to be completed by his student Franz Süssmayr.

Mozart subtitled the work "Stadler's Quintet,” by the way, referring to his friend and fellow Mason Anton Stadler, for whom he wrote several works, including the K. 581 quintet. Many of them (including this one) were scored for the basset horn or basset clarinet, members of the clarinet family with extended low notes. Although championed by Stadler, these instruments are rarely heard today, and contemporary performers usually opt for the A clarinet. It’s pitched a half-step lower than the more common B-flat clarinet and most professional musicians have one of each handy. I assume that’s what Scott Andrews will be using this weekend.

Brahms in 1853
en.wikipedia.org

For Johannes Brahms, by way of contrast, things were going fairly well when he wrote his sextet in 1860. True, his Piano Concerto No. 1 had received a lukewarm reception the previous year and he had just broken off a brief engagement with one Agathe von Siebold (whose name he encoded in sextet with a theme using the notes A-G-A-D-E, according to the 1967 edition of Brockway and Weinstock’s “Men of Music”). But he apparently enjoyed his new job as director of a women’s choir he had founded in Hamburg. The income from the position, combined with earnings from the sales of his music, was enough to afford him a comfortable life and even allow him to travel. His relationship with Robert Schumann’s widow Clara, while thoroughly Platonic, was nevertheless close and harmonious. And (as Tim Munro writes in the program notes he felt he was growing as an artist.

The String Sextet No. 1 is an example of his increased confidence. At the time, the format was relatively new and therefore somewhat risky, but the darker, richer sound that came with adding a second viola and cello to the conventional string quartet perfectly suited his writing style. This and the second string sextet four years later were, as Kai Christiansen writes at Earsense, “early but masterful works highlighting the bright, warm and noble side of Brahms in the manner of a serenade.”

There are hints of darkness here and there in the sextet’s four movements, especially in the minor key viola melody that is the basis for the theme and variations format of the Andante, ma moderato, but overall the feeling is one of contentment and hope for the future. Unlike Mozart’s quintet, this is music that would seem to accurately reflect the composer’s state of mind. It’s as warm and cozy as a fluffy blanket—perfect for these brisk November nights.

The Essentials: Nikolaj Szeps-Znaider and members of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra present an evening of chamber music by Mozart and Brahms on Friday, November 5th, at 7:30 pm at Powell Symphony Hall.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Symphony Preview: Moonlight serenades

It has been quite an active spring for the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) string section, with a series of both live and on-demand concerts showcasing what Music Director Stéphane Denève has called the “heart of the orchestra.” In the concerts Maestro Denève will conduct this weekend (April 30 through May 3), though, it’s the SLSO winds who will be in the spotlight with a pair of works by Mozart and Richard Strauss.

Richard Strauss, age 24

“This program of wind music,” observes Mr. Denève in the SLSO program notes “is all about opportunity. For Mozart, it was the opportunity to try out a new ensemble and a new sound. For Strauss, this piece was a big break, an opportunity that led to performances by a major court orchestra and a commission from Hans von Bülow, a leading conductor of the day.”

“A big break” is putting it mildly. The Strauss work that opens the concerts is the Serenade for Winds in E-flat major, op. 7. Completed in 1881 when the composer was a mere lad of 17, it’s generally regarded as a remarkably mature-sounding piece for someone who had yet to take his high school final exams. It sat around for a year while Strauss started (with minimal enthusiasm) his university education, but it finally got a premiere on November 27, 1882, by the Dresden Tonkünstlerverein (Dresden Musicians’ Society) under Franz Wüllner.

Given that Wüllner was an old friend of Strauss’s father, that might not have been all that impressive, but a repeat performance in 1883 got the attention of the influential conductor Hans von Bülow. Von Bülow added the Serenade to the regular repertoire of the highly regarded Meiningen Court Orchestra (which he had founded)—a gesture that led to what Stefan Schenk calls “an effusive letter of appreciation” from Strauss:

Esteemed Herr von Bülow!

To my immense joy I heard the news from Mr Spitzweg the day before yesterday that it is the intention of your Excellency to perform my Wind Serenade Opus 7 in one of your concerts. I am delighted that such great honour has thus been bestowed upon my little beginner’s piece. – And I would like to express my most heartfelt and sincere thanks to you, esteemed master.

Listening to this friendly seven-minute work, all that might seem like a lot of fuss, but that’s just because Strauss achieved such a warm, welcoming effect without straying significantly from traditional musical structures that date back to Mozart—whom Strauss very much admired. Indeed, Strauss’s instrumentation is very close to Mozart’s; he just cuts back on the clarinet family and adds a couple of flutes for a brighter sound. You can hear that clearly in the performance by members of the University of Michigan Symphony Band on YouTube.

Mozart, as drawn by Doris Stock, 1789

Which brings us to Mozart. His Serenade No. 10 in B-flat major, K. 361 (370a) takes up the rest of the program. It picked up the nickname "Gran partita" because that title was added to the manuscript after the fact by a hand clearly not Mozart’s. Presumably it’s a comment on the work’s length (around 45 minutes, with seven movements) as well as the size of the ensemble (12 winds and a double bass).

That’s not large by contemporary standards, of course, but consider that back in Mozart’s day a harmonie (wind ensemble) usually consisted of around a dozen musicians playing pleasant background music for aristocratic garden parties. The harmonie of Emperor Joseph II, for example, “set the gold standard foraristocratic entertainment.” By doubling the size of the band and writing a work of symphonic proportions, Mozart was breaking new ground.

That said, there’s a lot about the origins of this work that are, to say the least, unclear. “The Serenade No. 10 in Bb Major,” writes David Stanley “is both well-known and a mystery”:

We will likely never know the exact date of composition for this serenade.  Scholars have examined a wide variety of sources: Mozart’s manuscripts, the type of paper he used, his thematic catalog, works composed at the same time, correspondence between other musicians—nothing is conclusive.  We know Mozart was in his late twenties and that the piece, or part of it, may have been premiered in Vienna on March 23, 1784

What we can say, just from listening to it, is that it goes well beyond the bounds of simple background music for the idle chatter of the well-born. The opening Largo—Allegro molto fills the standard sonata form with nobility and good humor. The two Menuetto movements are eminently danceable despite being longer and more elaborate than would have been typical for a serenade back then. The Tema con Variazioni sixth movement assigns a different pair of woodwinds to each variation, giving everyone a chance to show off. And the exuberant Finale, in the words of Dr. Michael Fink, “adds a finale on top of a finale. The clipped repeated sections of this rapid Rondo tumble forward impetuously.”

The Adagio third movement has become especially well known, thanks in part to Peter Shaffer’s play “Amadeus.” Shortly after meeting Mozart for the first time and finding himself appalled by the composer’s loutish behavior, Antonio Salieri hears the opening of the Adagio and is thunderstruck by its profundity:

It started simply enough: just a pulse in the lowest registers—bassoons, basset horns—like a rusty squeezebox. It would have been comic if not for the slowness, which gave it a kind of serenity. And then, suddenly, high above it, sounded a single note on the oboe. It hung there unwavering, piercing me through, until breath could hold it no longer, and a clarinet withdrew it out of me, and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight it had me trembling…It seemed to me that I was hearing the voice of God…and it was the voice of an obscene child! [from “Amadeus,” 2003 revision]

If you know the play, you also know that this is not a happy revelation for Salieri.

Buffet Crampton basset horn

One more cool thing about the “Gran Partita” is that it offers a rare opportunity to hear an instrument popularized by Mozart’s friend and fellow Mason Anton Stadler: the basset horn. Essentially a larger version of the clarinet with a more powerful low end and a darker tone quality, it looks a bit like a cross between a clarinet and a sax, especially in the elegant format offered by Buffet Crampton of Paris. Playing the basset horns this weekend will be SLSO E-flat clarinetist Ryan Toher and guest musician Jane Carl.

You can experience that Adagio along with the rest of the Serenade No. 10 in any number of ways on YouTube. If you want just the music with a synchronized display of the score, there’s this 1994 recording conducted by Sir Charles Mackerras. If you’d prefer a live performance, The Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France has one for you recorded on March 7, 2016, at the Auditorium of Radio France. Personally, I prefer the latter (they appear to be playing those cool Buffet Crampton basset horns, for one thing), even though there is much to be said for being able to read the score along with the players.

The Essentials: Stéphane Denève conducts members of the SLSO winds in the Serenade for Winds in E-flat major, op. 7 by Richard Strauss and the Serenade No. 10 in B-flat Major by Mozart. Performances are Friday at 11 am, Saturday at 7:30 pm, and Sunday at 3 pm, April 30 through May 2, at Powell Symphony Hall in Grand Center. Only 300 tickets will be sold for each performance and strict health protocols will be in place. For more information, visit the SLSO web site.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Symphony Digital Review: Flute and harp take center stage in a mostly-French program

Mostly French and mostly featuring music for flute and harp, the latest St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) digital concert was recorded with a live audience at Powell Hall last fall. It’s available for on-demand streaming at the SLSO web site through May 22.

[Find out more about the music with my symphony preview.]

L-R: Jennifer Nitchman, Chris Tantillo,
Allegra Lilly

It opens with a virtuoso performance by SLSO Second Flute Jennifer Nitchman of "Reflections" for solo flute by the late American composer and flutist Katherine Hoover. A series of variations on a Norwegian folk melody based on the composer’s own improvisations, it’s an episodic piece that uses the full dynamic and tonal range of the flute. This isn’t flashy music, but it demands a high level of skill nevertheless. Ms. Nitchman does a flawless job capturing the work’s “high lonesome” sound and meeting its challenges.

Up next is Debussy’s 1915 Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp. It comes from a difficult time late in the composer's too-brief life when his personal and professional fortunes were a bit rocky. Given the turbulence of the life of its composer, it’s perhaps not surprising that this is a work that, as Ms. Nitchman says in her spoken introduction, displays “lots of different moods and characters.”

This is elusive, evanescent music with many shifts, changes, and pauses that require close communication among the musicians. Thanks to the intimate videography, you can see as well as hear that happening among the members of the ensemble who are, in addition to Ms. Nitchman, Principal Harp Allegra Lilly and violist Chris Tantillo. Ms. Nitchman says she loves this work. Judging from the quality of the performance, her fellow musicians seem to agree.

Allegra Lilly

Aside to whoever did the closed captions: the composer is Claude Debussy, not Clause Bedussy (whoever that might be). Just saying.

Ms. Lilly is in the spotlight next for the delightful 1953 Sonata for Harp by the unjustly neglected Germaine Tailleferre, the only female member of the group of French anti-Romantic composers known as "les six." Written for the famed Spanish harpist Nicanor Zabaleta, Tailleferre's Sonata is such a consistently entertaining and appealing work that I'm a bit surprised it's not better known. Lively, inventive, and melodically rich (including a little four-note motif towards the end that will make you think of either “merry Christmas” or “meet the Flintsones”), it is, past question, a real gem.

Ms. Lilly’s expert performance gives that gem a brilliant polish. The opening Allegretto brims with bucolic joy, the Lento sways gently like a berceuse, and the Perpetuum mobile finale bubbles along like a champagne fountain.

L-R: Jennifer Nitchman, Ryan Toher
Allegra Lilly, Eva Kozma, Rebecca Boyer Hall,
Chris Tantillo, Alvin McCall

Here, again, videography adds an extra dimension to the experience, allowing one to see clearly the intimate dance that takes place between Ms. Lilly’s hands and the instrument’s strings while her feet work the pedals. A lot of effort goes in to producing that liquid sound we’re used to hearing, but one rarely gets to see it from Powell Hall’s seats.

The concert ends with Ravel’s 1905 “Introduction and Allegro” for flute, harp, clarinet, and string quartet. It’s a deservedly popular piece, with a short languorous introduction that quickly makes way for a lilting waltz theme, which in turn goes through some inventive melodic and harmonic changes. Ms. Nitchman, Ms. Lilly, and Mr. Tantillo are joined here by violinists Eva Kozma and Rebecca Boyer Hall, Ryan Toher on clarinet, and cellist Alvin McCall for the kind of elegant, vivacious performance that Ravel would probably have loved.

In her spoken introduction, Ms. Lilly points out that one of the remarkable things about the “Introduction and Allegro” is that way it shifts back and forth between a harp concerto and an integrated chamber piece. The performance by this fine septet deftly balances those two aspects of Ravel’s writing

The St. Louis Symphony’s mostly French chamber concert runs around an hour and is available on demand through May 22nd. Its considerable attractions are of the small, intimate variety, which makes the program ideal for the digital video format, with its ability to put the viewer right in the midst of the music. For information on this and other live and digital SLSO concerts, visit the SLSO web site.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Symphony Digital Preview: The harp of the matter

The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) continues its 2021 digital concert series April 22-May 22 with a program of music that's mostly French and mostly for the harp.

Katherine Hoover

Recorded at live concerts last October 30 and November 5, the program opens with the sole outlier, "Reflections" for solo flute by late composer and flutist Katherine Hoover. Composed in 1982, this short piece is described by the composer as "Variations on an ancient Norwegian chant. Written outdoors at Artpark, NY." It certainly has that solitary, "high on a mountain top" feel that I associate with (say) Andean or Native American flute music—haunting, mysterious, and compelling. Listen to Kate Steinbeck's 2002 recording on YouTube.

The harp comes into play for the rest of the program: Debussy's 1915 Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp; the delightful 1953 Sonata for Harp by the unjustly neglected Germaine Tailleferre; and Ravel's "Introduction and Allegro" for harp, flute, clarinet, and string quartet from 1907.

Debussy's Sonata comes from a difficult time late in the composer's too-brief life (he died in 1918 at the age of 51 after a long and painful battle with colorectal cancer) when his health, romantic relationships, and professional fortunes were all a bit rocky. Both happy and mournful, the Sonata looks back to Debussy's youthful interest in the pentatonic scale and harmonies derived from Eastern models. The composer himself voiced ambiguous feelings about it in a letter to his friend Robert Godet. "The sound of it is not bad," he modestly wrote, "though it is not for me to speak to you of the music. I could do so, however, without embarrassment for it is the music of a Debussy whom I no longer know. It is frightfully mournful and I don't know whether one should laugh or cry - perhaps both?" Listen to this 1962 recording by noted harpist Osian Ellis and the Melos Ensemble with a synchronized score and see what you think.

Germaine Tailleferre

Written for the famed Spanish harpist Nicanor Zabaleta, (a name well known to us music lovers d'un certain âge) Tailleferre's Sonata is such a consistently entertaining and appealing work that I'm a bit surprised it's not better known. But then Tailleferre has never achieved quite the recognition she deserved. The only female member of that group of French anti-Romantic composers known as "les six" (the others were Darius Milhaud, Francis Poulenc, Arthur Honegger, Georges Auric, and Louis Durey), Tailleferre was also the most long-lived, shuffling off her mortal coil in 1982 at the age of 91. I don't now whether she played the harp or not, but SLSO harpist Allegra Lilly (quoted in the program notes) feels that the Sonanta "could only have been written by someone with a deep understanding of the sonority of the harp and how one’s hands fit onto the strings." You can hear that in this YouTube video recorded by Woojin Lee in 2018 at the Conservatoire National Supérieur Musique de Paris.

Composed in 1905 on commission from the harp manufacturer Érard, the "Introduction and Allegro" is classic Ravel, with a short languorous introduction that quickly makes way for a lilting waltz theme, which in turn goes through some inventive melodic and harmonic changes without ever leaving the three-quarter time signature. It's the most well-known work on the program, so you've probably heard it before. If not, YouTube has a recording by members of the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields that comes with a synchronized display of the score.
 
Performers for these concerts are harpist Allegra Lilly, flutist Jennifer Nitchman, and clarinetist Ryan Toher, along with violinists Eva Kozma and Rebecca Boyer Hall, violist Christian Tantillo, and cellist Alvin McCall.

As this is being written, two other programs in the SLSO’s digital concert series are still available: “Night Music,” through April 24 and “The Heart of the Matter,” through May 8. For information on the SLSO's digital and live offerings, visit the SLSO web site.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Review: The fourth concert in the St. Louis Symphony digital series rides the night train

With smaller, physically distanced audiences and other health protocols, the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) has returned to live concerts in Powell Hall. At the same time, they’re releasing high-quality videos of their fall 2020 concerts, recorded live in Powell Hall.

[Find out more about the music with my symphony preview.]

The sextet from "Capriccio"

Streaming on demand through April 24th, “Night Music” (the fourth concert in their digital series) takes you on a one-hour trip from a cozy sunset chat to a ghostly nocturnal vigil, to a dark night of guilt and regret transfigured by love into bright moonlight.

All this is accomplished with a pair of string sextets by Richard Strauss and Arnold Schoenberg, bracketing a work for solo violin and electronics by contemporary American composer Missy Mazzoli.

It all starts with the sextet that opens Richard Strauss's 1942 opera "Capriccio." It is, as SLSO cellist Bjorn Ranheim observes in his introduction, “a gorgeous piece of music with rich harmonies, like a gentle conversation between the different instruments.” You can hear that in the expertly played and well-balanced performance of Mr. Ranheim and his fellow musicians Hannah Ji and Erin Schreiber on violins, Leonid Plashinov-Johnson and Beth Guterman Chu on violas, and cellist Melissa Brooks.

Thanks to expert camera work, you can also see it in the way the players communicate with each other with their eyes, bodies, and of course, their instruments. The close-ups of the impassioned playing of Ms. Ji and Mr. Leonid Plashinov-Johnson in the turbulent central section were especially effective.

Up next is Ms. Mizzoli’s five-minute “Vespers” for violin and recorded sound, performed by SLSO second violinist Shawn Weil. The backing track includes recordings of Mr. Weil’s violin along with spectral voices and electronic drones that conjure up images of ancient cloisters and ghostly choirs.

Shawn Weil performs "Vespers"

In a virtually empty Powell Hall, this must have raised goosebumps. As it is, I found Mr. Weil’s masterful performance darned eerie even in my living room. A video pan of the hall’s immense ceiling and the empty upper balcony seats emphasized the sense of vast musical space that surrounds this work.

The second half of the concert is taken up with Schoenberg’s 1899 tone poem "Verklärte Nacht" (“Transfigured Night”), performed by the same sextet of players as the Strauss work that opens the concert.

Written when the young composer was still trying to find his own musical voice, “"Verklärte Nacht" is based on  the 1896 poem of the same name by Richard Dehmel about a women who confesses to her lover that she’s pregnant by another man as they walk together in the night. Instead of the condemnation and rejection she expects, he responds with affection and acceptance, declaring that their love will make the child their own:

Die wird das fremde Kind verklären,
Du wirst es mir, von mir gebären;
Du hast den Glanz in mich gebracht,
Du hast mich selbst zum Kind gemacht.

[Thus is transfigured the child of another man;
You will bear it for me, as my own;
You have brought your luminosity to me,
You have made me a child myself.] – translation by Scott Horton

"Verklärte Nacht"

It is, in short, a piece that covers a wide range of sentiments. In her introduction to the performance, Ms. Schreiber observes that “every imaginable emotion is expressed during the piece,” a description that’s as accurate as it is concise.

It’s music that calls for a wide expressive range from the performers along with solid technique, and it has plenty of both in this powerful interpretation, which begins with Mr. Ranheim and Ms. Brooks reading an English translation of the original poem. Every member of the ensemble seemed thoroughly invested in the music—transfiguring it, so to speak, into something intensely personal. Indeed, Ms. Schreiber suggests as much when she says that “the music is all about transformation and catharsis and for us it felt very cathartic to get together after what felt like an eternity.”

The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra’s “Night Music” concert runs just over one hour and is available on demand through April 24th.  More information on the this and other SLSO concerts is available at the orchestra's web site.

Symphony Preview: Shadows of the night

This weekend (March 26-28) the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) returns to live concerts at Powell Hall in a format very similar to the one they employed last fall. Details are available at the SLSO web site, but essentially it means a smaller, physically distanced audience and shorter programs with an emphasis on smaller ensembles.

Under the direction of Music Director Stéphane Denève, this weekend’s program takes you on a musical journey from Bach’s energetic Concerto for Two Violins in D minor, BWV 1043, to the contemplative “Vesper” by contemporary Estonian composer Ester Mägi and the carefully calibrated silences of the “Cantus in memoriam Benjamin Britten” by her fellow Estonian Aarvo Pärt, to Shostakovich’s dark night of the soul, his “Chamber Symphony.”

Stéphane Denève conducting the SLSO

“At this time,” observes Maestro Denève in the program notes, “we need to have space to think, to meditate on loss, on life.” That means there will be some sad songs sung. But that doesn’t mean the music this week is all about lamentation. Far from it, in fact.

The Bach concerto that opens the concert, for example, is anything but sad, despite being in a minor key. Its first and third movements deliver what Richmond Symphony violinist Richard Judd calls a “high octane contrapuntal conversation” between the soloists in the former and “a snarling and playful game of musical ‘tag’” in the latter that “explodes with ferocious, unrestrained energy.” The Largo ma non tanto second movement slows things down, but the ambience is romantic rather than elegiac, as though the soloists were singing a love duet.

Those solo roles this weekend will be filled by two of the SLSO’s own: Associate Principal Second Violin Kristin Ahlstrom and the orchestra’s new Assistant Conductor, Stephanie Childress, who began her professional life as a violinist before moving to the other side of the podium. They’ll have their work cut out for them, as you can tell by watching one of the many videos of Bach’s concerto available at YouTube. Personally, I rather like this one by the Netherlands Bach Society.

Kristin Ahlstrom

Mägi’s “Vesper” isn’t particularly sad either. Scored for string orchestra, the piece is an ecstatic evocation of the sacred choral music of the Renaissance on the order of Vaughn Williams’s “Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis,” complete with an elaborate violin solo that soars like an individual voice above the choir. “I miss our Symphony Chorus,” Maestro Denève reflects, “and our performance of ‘Vesper’ highlights the missing voices in our hall.”

The feeling of loss begins to appear in Pärt’s “Cantus in memoriam Benjamin Britten” for string orchestra and tubular bells. As the composer writes in his notes for the music, he had just begun to discover Britten’s work when the English master died in December 1976:

Just before his death I began to appreciate the unusual purity of his music I had had the impression of the same kind of purity in the ballads of Guillaume de Machaut. And besides, for a long time I had wanted to meet Britten personally and now it would not come to that.

The ”Cantus” is a brief (around 6 minutes) but intense outpouring of emotion that begins with the soft tolling of a bell and gradually builds to a massive final chord that is cut off abruptly, allowing the work to end with the last toll of the bell decaying into silence. Like much of Pärt’s music, it suggests something ancient, timeless, and not fully explicable in words. You’re better off just watching the 2010 London Proms performance by the BBC Symphony under Edward Garner.

Lamentation reaches its apotheosis in Shostakovich’s “Chamber Symphony,” Op. 110a. The work is an orchestration by violist Rudolf Barhsai of Shostakovich’s 1960 String Quartet No. 8, Op. 110, done with the composer’s full approval. Written in Dresden, when the city had yet to fully recover from the devastation of World War II, the quartet carries a dedication “to the memory of the victims of fascism and war,” but as Phillip Huscher relates in notes for the Chicago Symphony the composer told a different story in a letter to his lifelong friend, the Leningrad literary critic Isaak Glikman:

I've been thinking that when I die, it's hardly likely that anybody will ever write a work dedicated to my memory. So I have decided to write one myself. The dedication could be printed on the cover: "Dedicated to the memory of the composer of this quartet."

Dmitri Shostakovich

Indeed, the composer want so far as to return from Dresden with a bottle of sleeping pills, talked openly of suicide, and referred to the Eighth Quartet as his last work. Fortunately for both the composer and posterity, the depression passed, and Shostakovich would continue to write until his actual death in 1975.

To anyone familiar with Shostakovich’s music, the autobiographical intent is hard to miss, as there are multiple quotations from earlier works (most notably the First Cello Concerto) and frequent appearances by the composer’s four-note “signature”: D, S (E-flat in German notation), C, H (B natural). The sequence spells the first four letters of the composer’s name in German: D. SCHostakowitsch. It’s music of anger, despair, sarcasm, and finally, a kind of resignation. And it packs a big emotional punch, as you can hear in a livestreamed performance by the New England Conservatory Philharmonia last fall.

“People wonder why we play sad music,” says Maestro Denève. “As humans we have the power for compassion—music can be like a river of tears that carries painful feelings away.” Given the way compassion has been devalued and even despised by some in our nation today, I’d say that a dip in that river is long overdue.

The Essentials: Stéphane Denève conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra in music by Bach, Mägi, Pärt, and Shostakovich Friday and Saturday at 7:30 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, March 26-28. The concerts take place in Powell Symphony Hall in Grand Center. Only 300 tickets will be sold for each concert. For more information, visit the SLSO web site.

Symphony Preview: Seconding that emotion

To what extent does a composition reflect the emotional state of its composer? Judging by the three pieces Stéphane Denève and  the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) will perform this weekend (Friday through Sunday, November 13-15), the answer is often unclear.

Dumbarton Oaks music room
By Jack E. Boucher,
National Park Service
Public Domain, Link

Let us follow the King's instructions to the White Rabbit in "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" and "begin at the beginning" with a look at the first work on the program, the Concerto in E-flat major, "Dumbarton Oaks," by Igor Stravinsky. Written on commission for Robert Woods Bliss and Mildred Barnes Bliss in 1937 and '38 and first performed in May, 1938 at a private concert at their Dumbarton Oaks estate in the Georgetown neighborhood of Washington, D.C., this chamber concerto is a sprightly and even cheerful homage to the Brandenburg Concertos of Bach. Listening to it for the first time, you might think it came from a happy period in the composer's life.

You would, however, be dead wrong. In 1937 Stravinsky's wife Katya died of tuberculosis, followed shortly thereafter by his eldest daughter Ludmilla. The composer himself was unable to conduct the concerto's premiere because he was hospitalized for five months with the disease, during which time his mother died.

So, no, not a happy time. Indeed, Stravinsky would later describe it as "perhaps the most difficult time of my life." And yet, the music that emerged from these tribulations is a lighthearted and bracing 20th-century pastiche of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 that never descends to anything like outright imitation. As the composer recalled later:

I played Bach very regularly during the composition of the concerto, and I was greatly attracted to the Brandenburg Concertos. Whether or not the first theme of my first movement is a conscious borrowing from the third of the Brandenburg set, however, I do not know. What I can say is that Bach would most certainly have been delighted to loan it to me; to borrow in this way was exactly the sort of thing he liked to do.

No doubt, although I expect Bach would have found the astringent harmonies and constantly changing time signatures a bit weird.

The concerto follows the general format of its 18th-century inspiration, with two fast movements framing a slower Allegretto second movement. Themes are tossed back and forth among the members of the small ensemble like the ball in a fast-paced game of tennis and there's even a very traditional fugue at the end of the first movement. The score directs all three movements to be played attacca (without pause), separated by only a few series of more solemn chords to signal a break in the emotional tone, but judging by some of the recordings on YouTube conductors often take a pause between movements anyway. The entire piece runs around 12 to 16 minutes. It's fun to hear but difficult to play, and will give all the musicians a chance to test their mettle.

George Walker

You can preview the Concerto on YouTube with a synchronized display of the score (but also, alas, with intrusive commercials) or, if you're willing to sacrifice the score for a commercial-free experience, check out this excellent video by Houston's River Oaks Chamber Orchestra.

Up next is the "Lyric for Strings." written in 1946 by American composer George Walker, who died just two years ago at the age of 96. Walker was first African-American to graduate from the prestigious Curtis Institute and the first African-American composer to be awarded a Pulitzer Prize—part of a string of "firsts" in a long and distinguished career. Unlike Stravinsky's concerto, the "Lyric" directly reflects a personal tragedy in the composer's life. "The piece, writes Ricky O'Bannon in program notes for the Boston Symphony, "was originally titled Lament and is dedicated to Walker’s grandmother who died the year prior."

It does share a distinctly contrapuntal texture with the Stravinsky piece, but that's the extent of the similarity. The "Lyric for Strings" is both sadly moving and uplifting at the same time. I defy anyone to come away from this seven-minute gem without a lump in the throat.

In his informative program notes for these concerts, Tim Munro writes that the last live SLSO performance of this work was in 2010. But there's also a 2020 video of the piece on the SLSO YouTube page in which former SLSO resident conductor Gemma New leads nine members of the symphony strings in a powerfully moving rendition at the Soldier’s Memorial downtown. It's part of the orchestra's ongoing "Songs of America" project and if you haven't watched this video series already, I strongly encourage you to do so.

Aleksey Sofronov (1859-1925)

The concluding work this weekend is the longest one on the program (around a half hour) and also the most famous: the Serenade for Strings in C major, Op. 48. Like the Stravinsky Concerto it, too, pays homage without imitation to an composer of a bygone era, but in Tchaikovsky's case it's Mozart. Tchaikovsky loved Mozart's music. "Mozart does not overwhelm or stagger me," he wrote in an 1883 letter to his patroness Nadezhda von Meck, "instead, he captivates me, gives me joy and warmth. When I listen to his music, it is as if I am doing a good deed. It is difficult to convey what exactly his beneficial influence on me consists of, but it is undoubtedly beneficial, and the longer I live, the closer I get to know him, the more I love him."

No surprise, then, that there's a Mozartean elegance to the Serenade, as you can hear in this recording. The popular Valse second movement, while unabashedly Romantic, nevertheless dances along with a grace Wolfgang Amadeus would have admired. Even the somewhat melancholy third movement, marked Élégie: Larghetto elegiaco, never becomes entirely earthbound.

That said there are elements of sadness that show up throughout this generally engaging and captivating work. That's because, as Mr. Munro points out, the Serenade is not only "filled with easy, joyful moments that leave listeners humming the tunes while dancing out the door" but is also "a passionate musical love letter to a distant beloved." Specifically, it's a letter of farewell to the composer's long-time servant and lover Alyosha Sofronov, who was about to leave for military service.

If that's news to you, it's probably because commentators on Tchaikovsky's music have, at least in the past, had a tendency to gloss over the composer's homosexuality. Do a Google search on the Serenade, for example, and you'll find that, even today, Mozart's name can be found everywhere.  But Sofronov's? Not so much. Or at all, really, outside of the occasional blog post.

Which brings us back to the original question of how much a composer's emotional state (including their sexual orientation) is reflected in their music. Aside from obviously autobiographical works like Richard Strauss's "Symphonia Domestica" or openly documentary works like Shostakovich's Symphony No. 11 ("The Year 1905"), the answer is perhaps best left up to the listener. YMMV ("your mileage may vary") as they say on social media.

The Essentials: SLSO Music Director Stéphane Denève conducts Stravinsky's "Dumbarton Oaks" Concerto, George Walker's "Lyric for Stings" and Tchaikovsky's "Serenade for Strings" Friday and Saturday at 7:30 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, November 11-13. Audience size for all these concerts is limited to 150 for each performance, and tickets can only be purchased by calling the SLSO box office at 314-534-1700. Only two tickets can be purchased per household. Information on the SLSOs COVID-19 safety protocols is available at the orchestra's web site.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.