Neighborhood Series: Bach & Friends

Vadim Gluzman, violin & leader
Donna Conaty, oboe
Nadine Hur, flute
Aya Hamada, harpsichord

About the Music

Johann Sebastian Bach (1695-1750): Concerto in C Minor for Oboe and Violin, BWV 1060R
Instrumentation:
Scored for solo oboe, solo violin, harpsichord and strings
Composed: 1763
Duration: 14 minutes

 Besides being a composer of a large volume of highly sophisticated, original music, Johann Sebastian Bach was a deeply committed arranger and transcriber. Over the course of his lifetime, he reworked numerous works for various instrumental combinations, sometimes borrowing from other composers—Bach demonstrated a particular love for the Italians, among them, Vivaldi—but just as often borrowing from himself.

Much of Bach’s original instrumental music was composed in Weimar and Köthen, towns where he worked as an aspiring keyboard performer and composer. But in Leipzig, where he spent his final twenty-seven years, his lifestyle changed considerably. He was heading up a music school, composing for three different churches, and running a performance society at a popular Leipzig coffeehouse. Furthermore, he now had musically talented children at home who he needed to keep busy at the keyboard. Given such outrageous demands on his time, Bach occasionally pulled out earlier instrumental works and adapted them for his public and private needs.

In the case of the Concerto for Oboe and Violin, the original score no longer exists, but experts believe that Bach’s double keyboard concerto in C minor was an adaptation of a previous Bach composition for two treble-clef instruments. Indeed, early records indicate the existence of a lost Bach concerto for oboe and violin. Enter Max Schneider, who, in 1921, took the double harpsichord concerto and re-imagined the solo parts. It is that version which you will hear today.

While the concerto’s movements adhere to the pre-established pacing of Fast-Slow-Fast, Bach’s handling of his material varies from movement to movement. In the opening Allegro, the opening melody undergoes significant transformation before finally returning to its original state at the close. In the Adagio, he treats his cantabile melody to imitation by both soloists, reflecting his fluid and brilliant command of counterpoint. And in the closing Allegro, the material presented at the start returns repeatedly (known as ritornello), creating familiar landmarks. But in this case, even the intervening ideas are drawn from this opening, spirited dance.

 

Valentin Silvestrov (b. 1937): Silent Music
Instrumentation: Scored for string orchestra
Composed: 2002
Duration: 9 minutes

Though not a name particularly familiar in America, the Kiev-born composer Valentin Silvestrov has been hailed among the greatest composers of our time by no less than Alfred Schnittke and Arvo Pärt. Silvestrov’s early work was experimental and progressive and, as such, came under fire by the ruling Soviet authorities. This stifling atmosphere taught the composer many hard-learned lessons, including the importance of freeing himself from “all preconceived ideas—particularly those of the avant garde.” Silvestrov subsequently renounced his own modernist tendencies. Additionally, he turned critical of the Russian political system and now makes his home in Berlin, Germany.

Silvestrov’s highly accessible style cannot be easily categorized. It is retro or new age or perhaps neo-romantic. Indeed, one might even detect an element of pop music in his wistful Silent Music for String Orchestra of 2002. And while the music sounds deceptively simple, the score abounds with subtle tempo changes and dynamic nuance; in other words, what sounds free and easy is actually minutely detailed. The work begins with a nostalgic waltz (marked Walzer des Augenblicks, or Waltz of the Moment), capturing the composer’s search for shifting tones of color, even within the relatively restricted medium of strings. The noted historian Malcolm McDonald has made note of Silvestrov’s ability to create not the thing itself but “a lingering memory of it,” a sentiment that seems particularly apropos here. A tender Abendserenade (Evening Serenade) follows, characterized by its cascading violin melody, and classically inspired pizzicato accompaniment.

 

Johann Sebastian Bach (1695-1750): Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major, BWV 1050.2
Instrumentation: Scored for solo flute solo, solo violin, harpsichord and strings
Composed: 1721
Duration: 20 minutes

From 1717-1723 Bach served as Kapellmeister, or music director, at the court of Leopold in the principality of Anhalt-Köthen. This was arguably the only time in which Bach’s work was not determined by the needs of a church, rather by a secular boss and institution. Unsurprisingly, much of what sprang from his pen during these years took the form of non-religious instrumental music, including the solo music for violin and cello and the set of six concertos best known as the Brandenburg Concertos.

The Fifth concerto of the collection went through at least two peregrinations. The earliest manuscript reveals Bach having composed the work for a single-manual harpsichord. This early version consists of solo parts for traverso (flute), violin and harpsichord, and an accompaniment of a violin, a viola, and a cello, that is, one to a part. In other words, the original was envisioned as a concerto grosso, with a small group of soloists backed by an equally small—in this case, miniature—orchestra.

A second manuscript, from 1721, indicates the concerto’s adaptation for a two-manual harpsichord and we know that such an instrument existed at Leopold’s court. In this version, the harpsichord commands center stage, effectively nudging the other two soloists to the side. This is made evident both by the long solo passage toward the close of the first movement and the fact that all the fast passagework throughout the concerto is allocated to the keys. As such, the work is often regarded as the western world’s first keyboard concerto.

The first two movements (Allegro and Affettuoso, respectively) are constructed in ritornello form (see earlier Bach concerto, above), whereby the flute and violin take turns leading the tutti sections (passages played by the entire band). The intervening episodes are allotted to the right hand of the keyboard soloist. The final Allegro is in da capo form, that is, A-B-A. Here Bach borrows from the French style, instructing his flutist and violinist to play their melodies in unison.

Interestingly, the history surrounding Bach’s set of six concertos did not end in Köthen at all. Bach sent a copy of the set to the Margrave of Brandenburg as a gift—hence its eponymous title—although there is no indication that the music found favor in Berlin, and it was never even added to the Margrave’s inventory. A century later, Bach’s original parts were discovered in a completely different library than that of Cöthen, where he had left them. From there, the music eventually wound its way to the stacks of the Royal Library of Berlin, where it lay nearly forgotten and probably unplayed since Bach’s time. Here it sat until World War II, when a librarian, concerned for the music’s welfare, whisked it out of the library and onto a train. When the train came under bombardment, the librarian ran into the nearby woods with the music tucked “safely” under his coat. Today the original score resides securely within the Berlin State Library. One can’t help but imagine Bach, in heaven—where else would he be—looking down and considering with amazement the travails of his sublime and all-but-forgotten creation.

 

Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy (1809-1847): Sinfonia No. 10 in B minor, MWV N 10
Instrumentation: Scored for string orchestra
Composed: 1823
Duration: 11 minutes

Between the ripe ages of 12-14 the sensationally gifted Jakob Ludwig Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, better known to us as Felix Mendelssohn, dashed off his first thirteen symphonies, or sinfonia. While the majority were composed for strings alone, as is the case with that heard on this program, the eleventh also calls for percussion and the eighth exists in two versions: one for strings alone and another with added woodwinds. The majority of these early works are crafted in three-movements, but the tenth is a single-movement work, marked Adagio – Allegro – Piu presto.

Mendelssohn was born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth, to a Berlin family both monetarily and intellectually rich. Indeed, growing up, young Felix would have rubbed shoulders with the European elite, for anyone visiting Berlin would have made it a point to drop in at his parents’ well-respected home. A polymath from a young age, Felix’s prodigious talents as a painter, pianist, composer and even playwright were recognized and fostered by his parents. Along with his talented older sister, Felix created and produced small plays and took an active role in afternoons of chamber music. And, as often as not, these informal performances included new works by Felix, who would also have sat in as violist.

Certainly, the string symphony performed today was intended for such an intimate gathering. At the age most of us were playing little league ball or watching Happy Days, little Felix was already composing sophisticated music. In full command of form and instrumentation, he also possessed melodic gifts that belied his years.

Beyond its solitary movement, the B minor Sinfonia contains another unusual feature: its use of a double viola section. The young upstart was not only a violist himself but experimented constantly and in this case he incorporated a second viola line to achieve more robust and active inner-voicing. True, the violins will carry the majority of the melodic material throughout the work, but the violas will get their moment in the sun during the reprise of the Allegro—the middle and longest section of this ten-minute work—when the violins drop out. And for those who are familiar with Mendelssohn’s overture to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, keep an ear out for foreshadowing of that score in the Allegro’s second subject. All in all, a stunning piece of work, even for a composer twice Felix’s age!

© Marc Moskovitz
www.marcmoskovitz.com

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