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About the Music

William Grant Still (1895-1978): The American Scene: Suite No. 1 “The East”
Instrumentation: Scored for pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets and bassoons, horns and trumpets, trombone, tuba, timpani, percussion, harp, celesta, and strings
Composed: 1957
Duration: 11 minutes

A student at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music who assisted the janitor to help make ends meet, Mississippi-born William Grant Still later joined the navy before moving to Harlem, where he played with and arranged music for dance bands. Still caught his first musical break with his “Afro-American” Symphony No. 1, debuted by the Rochester Philharmonic in 1931 and subsequently performed in New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Berlin, Paris, and London. And by the time he received the commission for what became The American Scene, Still had composed music for the New York World’s Fair (1939) and the New York City Opera, led the Los Angeles Philharmonic in his music, and had made soundtrack arrangements for major studio films (Pennies from Heaven, Stormy Weather).

Consisting of five individual suites—The East, The South, The Old West, The Far West, and finally, A Mountain, a Memorial, and a Song—Still’s The American Scene was his grand attempt at capturing the essence of America in sound. Each suite is comprised of three movements, and “The East,” performed this evening, lasts about ten minutes.

I.

On the Village Green: This lush opening movement evokes an earlier, simpler time. Crafting an idyllic landscape, Still separates the winds and strings in this lilting 3/4 time dance.

II.
Berkshire Night: A laid-back, nocturnal movement which, despite its geographical setting in the American highlands, nevertheless displays echoes of Still’s Afro-American
blues roots.

III.
Manhattan Skyline: Despite its title, the final movement of Still’s suite captures the down-to-earth New York of George Gershwin, whether the Ford Model A’s honking down Broadway, glitzy flappers, or the frenetic, flashy, and never-ceasing nightlife of Times Square.

Friedrich Gulda (1930-2000): Concerto for Cello and Wind Orchestra
Instrumentation: Scored for solo cello, flute, two oboes, two clarinets, bassoon, two horns, two trumpets, trombone, tuba, drum set, acoustic guitar, and bass
Composed: 1980
Duration: 30 minutes

If the name Friedrich Gulda remains relatively unknown on this side of the Atlantic, it is largely a consequence of geography and no reflection on his talent or ability. Indeed, the late Austrian pianist and composer was among the most talented of his generation, if also one of the most unorthodox. In 1999, for example, he announced his death in the press to mark a forthcoming performance as a resurrection party. Gulda’s formal piano studies commenced at age 7. He went on to win the Geneva International Music Competition at age 16, and his early professional years were marked by noted piano performances of the music of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven. But Gulda maintained a strong interest in jazz, as much for its rhythmic and improvisatory freedom as for the escape it offered him from the academic approach of his schooling. By the 1950s jazz had become a major factor in his playing and musical thought, leading to concerts at Birdland in New York and the Newport Jazz Festival, performances aside jazz giants Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock, and compositions inspired by works as diverse as “Round Midnight,” Miles Davis’ “Put Your Foot Out,” and the Doors’ “Light My Fire.”

The Cello Concerto, which dates from 1980, is unlike anything else in the repertoire. Gulda’s inspiration ranges from the jazz club and beer hall to the out-of-doors. He rejects the typical string section in favor of a modest-sized wind band and drum set. And instead of the traditional three movements normally associated with the concerto, Gulda constructed a symmetrical, five-movement arch, with a cadenza at the center. On either side, Gulda places dance movements, bookended in turn by the high-spirited outer movements. The cello writing, while challenging, is ideally suited to the instrument, whose range and lyrical qualities are wonderfully exploited. Throughout, Gulda weaves a wealth of ideas that are distinctive, clever, alluring, and wholly unique.

The Overture is framed by a bold opening theme heralded by the cello alone, an easily recognizable motto that returns at pivotal moments to set off the contrasting, lyrical secondary theme and signal the movement’s exposition, development, and recapitulation. While a reflection of Gulda’s classical pedigree, it is nevertheless deftly absorbed into a movement otherwise dominated by the 12-bar blues progression launched on the heels of the cellist’s opening bars.

There follows a pastoral Idyll, an exquisite musical poem whose mood is established at the outset by the horns. The middle section is characterized by a rustic Ländler, a 3/4-time dance associated with Austrian peasant life that Gulda fittingly serves up to the woodwinds. An unabashedly romantic theme follows, given over exclusively to the soloist, who then embellishes the Ländler with new contrapuntal lines. The poetic strains of the Idyll round out the movement, but the jaunty Ländler seems intent on having the final say.

There follows an extended cadenza for the soloist, which begins casually enough before moving into a more progressive terrain. The cadenza segues directly into the charming Menuett, the concerto’s shortest movement, a tongue-in-cheek nod to the Renaissance involving cello, guitar, tambourine, and upper winds. The brilliant finale reflects Gulda’s humor throughout, as he pokes fun at the sounds of Austrian life, juggling a brassy beer hall polka with a yodeler (cello soloist) atop the Alps. At the movement’s core are some down-and-dirty riffs and sounds of freight trains, backed by snare and double bass and answered by muted trumpets, further evidence of Gulda’s unfettered musical flair. From here, we are swept back into Austria’s beer halls and Alps once more, before the concerto’s breathtaking, brilliant conclusion.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791): Symphony No. 22 in C Major, K. 162
Instrumentation: Scored for piano, pairs of oboes, horns, and trumpets, and strings
Composition: 1773
Duration: 10 minutes

By April of 1773, the year the C Major Symphony heard this evening was composed, Mozart had compiled a vast portfolio of compositions, including—but not limited to—church music, seven operas, a piano concerto, a violin concerto, music for solo piano, music for violin and piano and about two dozen symphonies, six of which were composed in 1773 alone! Mozart was now seventeen years old. Since the age of five, he had been repeatedly paraded around Europe to perform for royalty, trips that also allowed the prodigy to encounter music beyond the walls of his small town of Salzburg. Particularly influential were the music of the Mannheim school, whose court boasted one of orchestra Europe’s leading orchestras, and the Italians.

This was the era of the three-movement symphony, or sinfonie, the outgrowth of a single-movement work in three sections, generally fast-slow-fast in tempo. These were the early days of what became known as the Classical era, or among art historians as the Rococo. And like the art, the music was meant to be light, pleasing, entertaining.

In March of 1773, Mozart returned with his father from Italy and was immediately employed by the Prince-Archbishop of Salzburg, Hieronymus Collerado, the same man for whom Mozart’s father had long worked. Mozart’s 22nd Symphony was among the first things he composed in his new position, and while we know nothing about its early history, it would no doubt be performed by the Salzburg court orchestra.

The influences from abroad are clearly evident from the start, including its three-movement structure, the heightened use of winds (borrowed from the Mannheimers), and the dominant violin writing, common among the Italians. One imagines the prodigious teenager crafting this rather traditional three-movement score within a matter of days—or even hours!—nothing too demanding for the players or the courtly audience, but simply light, energetic, and charming music.

W.A. Mozart: Symphony No. 35 in D Major, K. 385 “Haffner”
Instrumentation: Scored for pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns and trumpets, timpani, and strings
Composed: 1782
Duration: 23 minutes

In 1777, the twenty-one-year-old Mozart, ignoring his father’s advice, resigned from his post in Salzburg and headed out again, this time with his mother, hoping to secure employment elsewhere. He stopped again in Mannheim, where he met and fell in love with the German soprano, Aloysia Weber. Later, failing to win her hand, he trained his attentions on Aloysia’s younger sister Constanze, whom he eventually married, though this all was still in the future. From Mannheim, Mozart traveled on to Paris, but life soon began to spiral out of control. When hopes for employment failed to materialize, he succumbed to debt and began pawning what few valuables he had. And while in the French capital, his mother succumbed to an undiagnosed illness and died two weeks later.

During his absence, Mozart’s father had been pulling strings back in Salzburg and secured for his brilliant son the posts of court organist and concertmaster of the court orchestra (for which Mozart had written his 22nd symphony years earlier), for which Mozart would earn an annual salary of 450 florins. Having failed to find employment elsewhere, Mozart retreated to Salzburg and took up his new posts in January of 1779. Yet, despite his prestigious positions, he remained discontent with the Salzburg music scene and his relationship with Archbishop Collerado, his employer, became increasingly strained. Over the next few years, Mozart gradually sought—and found—musical success elsewhere, particularly in Munich and Vienna. In 1781, he threw his lot in with Vienna.

Mozart’s ties to the city of his birth, however, remained strong, and in 1782 he received a commission from Sigmund Haffner, whose father had served as mayor of Salzburg. Years earlier, Mozart had composed music—the “Haffner” serenade—for a Haffner daughter’s wedding. Now, in 1782, he was once again asked for music, this time in celebration of Sigmund Haffner the Younger’s ennoblement. Though “up to his eyeballs” in work in Vienna, Mozart acquiesced and began sending home movements for a new serenade as soon as they were finished. It’s not entirely clear if Mozart succeeded with the deadline, but by December of that year, he requested that his father return the music. Mozart now reworked the serenade, dropping several movements, adding instruments such as flutes and clarinets, and spinning it into the four-movement symphony heard this evening.

From the very start of the D Major Symphony, we can fully appreciate just how far Mozart had traveled musically since the days of the C Major Symphony heard earlier. The Allegro con spirito opens with a grand unison statement by the entire orchestra, which he wrote “should be played with fire.” Composed in sonata form, the movement is tight knit, made more so by Mozart’s decision to forgo the customary repeat of the exposition and encompassing a shortened development section (hinting at D minor before moving into the remote key of F# Major).

The lilting Andante second movement is rich in Mozartean charm, and listening to this music, one can only imagine how fortunate those in the audience must have felt at Mozart’s decision to hang out his shingle in their city. His stock rose still higher with the courtly Minuet, the stately, 3/4-time dance which had become de rigueur among Viennese composers writing four-movement symphonies. Writing home to his father, Mozart indicated that the finale, marked simply “Presto,” was to be played as fast as possible! Constructed in rondo form (a repeating opening statement), note the movement’s unmistakable operatic character, a consequence of Mozart having been immersed in his Singspiel The Abduction of the Seraglio only two weeks before composing this symphony.

The “Haffner” Symphony experienced a successful premiere, in March of 1783, on an all-Mozart program at Vienna’s Burgtheater, no doubt convincing the entrepreneurial Mozart that his choice to leave Salzburg for the Austrian capital had been the right one indeed.

© Marc Moskovitz
marcmoskovitz.org