Thursday, May 26, 2011

Brahms: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 77 - III. Allegro giocoso, ma no troppo vivace

there are some words that simply carry more heft when you see them in a tempo marking, and "giocoso" is definitely one of them. this is the only movement which is actually inclined towards virtuosic display.
milstein video for your viewing pleasure.

this is pretty standard rondo form, or sonata-rondo form if you prefer. A section those jolly double stops at the opening; this will be the refrain.

0:58 B section - crazy arpeggios, slurred, spiccato, followed by ascending octaves. this first time it hints the entire time at A major, though it never actually resolves into it. the refrain of the A section comes at 2:12.

2:27 transition begins to a C section which starts proper at about 2:48. this is more lyrical, though no less technical for it. this section starts to feel a bit developmental; the lyrical theme is taken into several key areas, revving up around 3:30 and dovetailing into the ascending octaves from the B section right at 3:43. this a bit of a recap; the B section is now in a different key and cadences in D.

an F-sharp minor statement of the A section brings us up to speed for a lead-up to a cadenza section which includes thrilling ascending chords and octave leaps.

5:18 is a remarkable section - completely new material, fresh and songlike, very much Bach-inspired. this only lasts a short while though, before a series of trills ramps it up again and brings it to the dominant chord needed to set up a short cadenza full of arpeggios.

6:31 the final statement of the main theme except now in a galloping 6/8. this adds a romping quality which is broken briefly by a section of virtuosic play on the latter half of that theme, only to return to the triplet rhythms and loud orchestral tutti descending arpeggios leading us to the wrong place a couple times (note the weird e-flat major chord at 7:15) allowing for just a bit more play on the original theme before a final declamatory statement of brilliance in the 6/8 rhythm, which sets off the coda at 7:28. from there on the movement seems to wind down before finally throwing the last surprise, three triumphant chords to finish.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Brahms: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 77 - II. Adagio

sarasate famously refused to play this concerto because he did not want to stand idly by while the oboe played the "only tune" in the second movement. but what a tune! and it's not as if the violin doesn't get to play it.

heifetz/reiner.
soloist enters at 2:14 with a variation on the oboe's melody. it is a simple melody, and the violin part merely adds endless ornamentations onto it.
a shift at around 3:08 has us landing in the faraway key of g-flat major. this is the beginning of a development which is really more like a rhapsodic interlude; a passionate outburst at 3:50 brings out a whole new melody which is angst-filled and reaches new heights of melancholy which are explored in the rest of this middle section. this middle section is characterized by seemingly aimless meandering by the violin part alternating with returns of the passion demonstrated at 3:50. the violin part gets ever higher until the shimmering high d at 5:13. after reaching this apex, all holds still for just a moment, and then violin begins a set of downward octaves which is actually the recap: you can hear the oboe playing an abbreviated version of the exposition melody as the violin descends.
he winds up this melody to a more passionate climax this time: building it up beginning around 6:08, he uses the horn to nudge the violin up to ever-higher heights, until it ends on a high C and, after holding the harmony almost unbearably, has no choice but to wind down.

the coda is short and quiet, but listen to the diminished d chord that pops out of nowhere at 7:47 to intensify the final V7-I cadence.

Brahms: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 77 - I. Allegro non troppo

ok for me blogging this piece is a monumental task because of the status it claims in my personal musical tastes. i am quite sorely tempted to merely post up several different recordings from youtube and compare them as a violinist, but as i will be learning it this summer from a conductor's perspective, i shall try to take a more musicological tack on it.

brahms wrote very few concerti: two piano, one violin, and one violin/cello. unfortunately he never got around to writing the cello concerto which we brahms aficionados will always long for. but this violin concerto, written in 1878, is definitely one of the greatest of the greatest.

it's very difficult and (despite lots of input from his friend joachim) not especially violinistic, and most folks attribute this to the fact that he was a pianist by nature and perhaps not as capable of writing idiomatic stuff as, say, wieniawski (who actually called this concerto "unplayable." his violin concerti are ridiculously difficult as well, but very much in the violin idiom). but the counterargument goes that he wasn't trying to produce a virtuoso showpiece (which IS what wieniawski specialized in), but rather a symphonic concerto, which is supported by the fact that originally he had wanted there to be a fourth movement (a scherzo as third movement). apparently his original two middle movements both "fell through," but he instead "substituted a feeble adagio," what we know of as his second movement. anyway, when you remember this "symphonic" characterization, think of his second piano concerto, which he completed three years later in 1881.



there is absolutely no doubt that there are at least ten fantastic recordings by the best violinists on youtube, so pick your favorite. this is milstein/jochum, 1975, totally stunning, not often heard.

the fact that this concerto was in so many ways an homage to beethoven is evidenced mainly in this first movement, with the long, long orchestral introduction which actually goes quite a ways into developmental material before circling back and allowing the violin to enter, at around 2:37.
the first subject, the rising third followed by the falling triad, is moved around until finally the violin is able to play it with the full songfulness it deserves, at 4:05. even then, the violin continues winding its way up and down arpeggios, sixths, thirds, around and over the actual melody in a very brahmsian way.
one program note writer says that there are two "markers" which provide some structural decipherability: one is the descending woodwind fourths at 6:10, which herald the entrance of the more feminine, lovely second subject. this is given in a major/minor, with the transformative modulation being quite subtle and under the radar - actually for a while the second subject sounds like it is still in d. the second subject includes a very typical brahms hemiola at 6:59, followed by a very mournful descent into a reflective lament which seems to bring the music to a standstill.
this is abruptly interrupted by the second "marker," the more aggressive, dramatic chords at 7:49. this brings the music back to its original turbulent opening (of the violin solo), and concludes the exposition, in the dominant key.

the development is all over the tonal map as usual. it opens with a bit of new material - dark, mournful chords, which soon evolve into flighty series of halfsteps, followed by aggressive trills and a very dramatic section in which wide intervals are split all over the fingerboard. an orchestral crescendo builds into a huge d major cadence at 1:32 of the second vid. this is the recap, though it doesn't act like one; actually you can hear the horns trumpeting the main theme behind all the strings' arpeggiating sixteenths. but it dovetails into material exactly from the exposition, 1:56 being analogous to 4:44 of the first vid, except now in d minor. he goes on to state the rest of the first theme as well as all of the second in the correct key, leading us up to the cadenza spot.

the coda after the cadenza is one of my favorite two minutes in all of music. it starts off dreamily, allowing the orchestra to just sneak back in hovering after the cadenza, but as the harmonic and dynamic intensity increase and the violin's arpeggios get up into the stratosphere there are some truly sublime moments, especially the one that finally brings it over the edge into a celebratory set of chords (that is incidentally probably the most difficult section in the entire movement outside the cadenza...)

enjoy!

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Mozart: Divertimento in E-flat, K. 563 - VI. Allegro

this last movement is in sonata rondo form, in 6/8, in our home key of e-flat major.

this movement alternates between rolling and rollicking. it starts off lovely and graceful, but then has short outbursts of virtuosity with lots of sixteenth note runs for everyone.

development at 2:30 with the entrance of the viola. starts as the beginning, but very quickly modulates to several other keys, hinting for a while at g major, but bypassing it to continue around the circle of fifths in on of the explosions of sixteenths, ending finally at 3:35 in a dovetail into part of the exposition.
4:50 is the true recap, though, and the galloping part is the beginning of a coda which will bring the whole work to a grand close.

more will be added to this entry once i actually study this piece and get a clue as to this movement, but i couldn't leave the last movement hanging :) enjoy.

Mozart: Divertimento in E-flat, K. 563 - V. Minuet: Allegretto

this minuet is in e-flat, has two trios, and is slightly more poised than the first minuet.

it sounds harmonically very much like the first minuet, but in the second section of the minuet there is a bit of a halted moment, where everything stops for just a moment before resuming as normal.

first trio comes at 1:18; it is in a mellower a-flat major and the melody is given by the viola. the second section plays in the dominant, and there is even a brief development in the middle, featuring sustained diminished chords.

the second trio, at 3:06, is a bit more jolly and fun, with a venture into the relative minor in the middle which is more energetic. the violin gives an arpeggiating tune with a cool bit of rhythmic augmentation in the middle.

the last repetition of the minuet includes even more mozartean moments of ornamentation, along with a little coda.

Mozart: Divertimento in E-flat, K. 563 - IV. Andante

This movement features a set of theme and variations in b-flat major.

this is a bit hard to parse because there is no space in between the variations, so i will include lots of markers here.
theme is relaxed and pretty standard. two parts, both repeated. the first consists of a pretty standard eight bar, the first four bars half cadence and the final four cadence. already on the repeat, mozart starts varying, so it sounds a bit like a new variation, but the second part of the theme has yet to come. it takes us to harmonically new territory - c minor, f major, then cadence in b-flat, and then rounds it off neatly with a four bar "coda." again, the "repeat" of this second section is already quite different from the first time.

1:37 is the first variation, mostly for the violin. the viola receives the melody, while the violin plays a sort of descant. the repeat features some more difficult arpeggios for the violin, which are carried on in the second section.

3:06 is more boisterous, and gives a sort of conversation to the violin and viola, which alternately play parts of the melody and triplet arpeggios. the cello also gets to contribute his bit in the second half.

4:44 suddenly the jollity halts and we are given a much more solemn variation, in b-flat minor. wistful dotted rhythms and sustained notes are exchanged in equal part between all of the instruments.

6:16 back to the realm of the major, and the cello sustains long notes of the melody while the viola plays a sort of alberti bass and the violin has mad scales and perpetual motion all over the place. he does a bit of slicing and dicing, as the variation doesn't exactly adhere to the original theme, but that is because he is about to hit a coda. the other two instruments get their share of the perpetuo moto, but then all of a sudden we're back in the realm of the theme, which brings us to a relaxed close.

Mozart: Divertimento in E-flat, K. 563 - III. Minuet

this minuet is cool because of the opening hemiola effected by the accompanying chords.
standard a-b-a minuet. we're now back in e-flat major, but the opening section gives us a taste of c minor (relative), and cadences in b-flat. second section, beginning at 1:00 and returning quickly to the opening material to round off in e-flat after a cool bit of extended playing on the main material.

2:40 trio, takes us very quickly in and out of b-flat major. the second section of the trio features some interesting "echoes" from the viola and cello, and an elided cadence at around 3:30 allows the viola to come up and take the violin's role out of nowhere.

recap at 4:33, the rest is history.

Mozart: Divertimento in E-flat, K. 563 - II. Adagio

this second movement is the slow movement in sonata form. it is written in a-flat major, the subdominant to e-flat. elegant, full of moonlight, and plenty of cadenza-like moments for everyone, it sounds just like a serenade to me.

it starts, like the first movement, with a simple arpeggio, but this time turned on its head, coming from the cello, from the bottom up. before long it settles into a comfortable flow, and a lot of the little figures from the violin sound to me like they could be unmeasured - simple ornamentation over the bed of the viola and cello.
at around 1:30 there is a modulation into the dominant, e-flat. the second theme is a series of modulating arpeggios and is basically an extended cadenza for the violin. the exposition ends in e-flat.

2:57 development, on the opening figure (the ascending arpeggio), then diminished chords over the pedal C in the cello. this development, too, is extremely short. recap at about 4:08. the recap is basically the same but for a few extra ornamentations in the cello part. mozart begins redeveloping almost immediately, ensuring that the rest of the recap falls into place in the key of a-flat. sometimes he takes the time to stop and smell the roses, adding an extra half bar or so here and there with moments of repose.

7:19 is a bit of a coda, spearheaded for the first time by the viola. there is a surprise fully diminished chord, and this gives the final chords a greater sense of satisfaction at the end of the movement.

Mozart: Divertimento in E-flat, K. 563 - I. Allegro

i have been assigned to perform this piece in a short festival i am attending this summer, so i thought i would get a head start on learning it. the piece was written in mozart's all-famous summer of 1788 (the most well-known feat being that he composed all three of his final and most well-known symphonies during these weeks). it is a string trio for the problematic ensemble of violin, viola, and cello, and it was dedicated to a friend of his who lent him money (michael puchberg). he premiered it that september playing the viola part.

true to the form of a divertimento, it has six movements, but in all other respects is basically a string trio work. most program notes point out that it includes two minuets, a set of theme and variations, and another slow movement in sonata form, but is not generally seen as the "light" music that the name 'divertimento' otherwise suggests.

the ensemble is problematic because it lacks fullness generally. this is an impression i get almost always listening to this ensemble - with one more violin it is generally easy to take care of, which is why the quartet has become such a staple ensemble of chamber music. but mozart does a great job of covering for it in this work.

the first movement is a standard allegro in sonata form.
exposition from beginning up until about 2:30, where it repeats. the theme, beginning with a descending e-flat arpeggio, is cheery and sunny, but elegant at the same time. a modulation into b-flat along with a second theme comes at about 0:45, a bit more lyrical, but not exactly dolce - still plenty of texture in the other parts. i enjoy how he prolongs the real cadence until quite late, spinning out many arpeggios and extended solos for the three instruments until finally rounding it off.
development begins at 4:50. he starts with the same figure that opens the movement, but then moves it in astonishing directions, contrasting it with a rising figure in whatever instruments accompany it. 5:15 a bit more movement and strife, and this moment reminds me a bit of the corresponding section in the first movement of beethoven op 18 no. 1. the strife dies down quietly, and the development is actually extremely short, leading to a recap at 6:00.
redevelopment at 6:34. cadences in the correct key of e-flat, so that he can begin the second theme in its rightful place. the movement ends without coda.

Conductor's Knowledge: Ithaca 2011, pt. 4

5. CSC's most important goal in rehearsal with the orchestra was to always show the orchestra that you are listening to them. this is a good tie-in to point number 1. a conductor should never presume that he knows more about what is important than the orchestra musicians themselves do, and it's usually pretty obvious when a conductor expects something to happen and tries to prevent or encourage it without hearing whether it actually has happened. the first day of the class, one of the auditors was conducting beethoven 1 first movement, and when an important but sort of scrubby moment came for the seconds, she held out an arm to them and shook it vigorously, shouting, "MORE!" over the din. it was epitome high school teacher, and represents this point rather well. conductors should never do anything without making sure it is needed. the fact of the matter is that the orchestra, in most cases, can handle itself perfectly fine. a conductor has to make sure that what he does will not merely be ignored by the orchestra, so it is in everyone's best interests to minimize extraneous conducting. from an orchestra perspective, nothing is more annoying than a conductor telling you to do what you believe you were already doing.

6. soloists should be able to participate in a collaborative process. the conductor should never expect that the soloist behave like just another musician in the orchestra. having performed as a soloist before, i feel all of this is quite natural for me, but it was surprising the number of times that other conductors in the class, for example, simply lifted their batons and started without making sure the soloist was ready. there was often a sort of lack of interest in the soloist, leaving him to merely be expressive and awesome on his own. there were also a number of spectacular fails in terms of staying together with him, but i will chalk that up to it being difficult to hear a soloist behind you and an orchestra in front of you at the same time. but of the six participants i thought only one or perhaps two showed a particularly keen interest in taking care of the soloist. there was one person in particular who managed to completely arouse the ire of CSC by his manner of brusqueness towards soloist and orchestra, which, whether he meant it to or not, came off as arrogant and interfered with his listening to the soloist several times, resulting in a pretty spectacularly embarrassing rehearsal. like in point 5, it is not important just to listen but to give everyone the impression you are listening as well, by looking at them (which only one person did very often with the soloist) and engaging them visually. after all, you have nothing else to engage them with.

7. this last point is simple. one should always try to carry the sound with their gesture. every beat and every motion in between every beat should be able to "carry" something, and if a beat is given too easily it cheapens the music. of course, sometimes music deserves ease and lightness. and there are conductors out there who simply are able to give music easily, without becoming too engaged about it, and actually this is generally what professional orchestras prefer (at least, compared to someone who tries to demonstrate everything and is generally seen as "too eager" to a jaded bunch of musicians). CSC drew us a lineage of conductors which included two main schools - those who were stately, clear, and a bit more reticent; and the lineage he himself is part of, which is effusive, expressive, and heart-on-sleeve. having been taught by bernstein and ozawa it's easy to see why this is the case. but even if one is part of the other school it's never the case that they want to make light of the music. ease is good, but too much ease is a bit cheapening. there was one person in particular at the class who never quite got this.

OK, that concludes the recap of the CSC masterclass. back to normal music blogs!

Conductor's Knowledge: Ithaca 2011, pt. 3

i may as well try to put some of the more technical bits of the class, even though they don't translate well without a video of some sort.

1. my notes say simply "center/roundness." what i get for not writing these entries sooner is having forgotten a lot of what happened, but CSC was always talking about the fact that we hold the music in front of us. it's quite important to always have a sort of groundedness. this is something i struggle with every time i'm on the podium. it's tempting, especially at beginning levels for people who feel like they have a lot to give, to try and demonstrate everything, which not only is very difficult but rather excessive. most orchestras do not require one to give most things, and to try to do so is very confusing to look at, not to mention it betrays your lack of confidence in the orchestra to count their rests.
feet in the same place, and a "round" arm shape which allows a "space" for the music. another easy habit is to let the elbows fall too close to the sides (or sometimes, raise them too much so it doesn't look natural).

2. a very simple tenet of elbow-wrist-finger/baton movement is that whenever one of these components (usually the elbow or wrist) moves, the other should not move. this is generally good, and protects against the danger of moving all two or three joints at once, which gives your gesture multiple (and contradicting) impetuses, and all of them get amplified by the baton. but anyone who has tried to actually be expressive with their hands knows that you can't only use one of these joints at the same time. so a better principle is that everything, from the wrist to the tip of the baton, should move in direct relation to how far it is from your elbow. the wrist itself bends slightly with the first movement of the elbow to give an impetus, but by the time you reach the bottom of the gesture everything from the elbow to the baton should be straight.

3. rebounds are things we give thoughtlessly. but whether we give one or not can make a world of difference in how clear our gesture is. we forget that they can be sources of information, but they will indicate things like: whether the note is long or short, whether it extends to the next beat (whether the next beat will be merely an information beat), what the character of the note is, how quick the cutoff is or how quickly the next note will come. most importantly, rebounds are sources of information for the note after. they are upbeats which happen to have a note on them. we have to constantly be aware that the rebound is not going to change the attack of the previous note. if you give only a rebound (upbeat) and no ictus on a downbeat, people will still play according to the character of that rebound.

4. he made sort of a big deal about using the structure of a piece to memorize it. i think this is a self-explanatory point, but perhaps there is something i'm missing. he gave us an excerpt of beethoven 9 third movement, and it was so long before we got around to talking about it that i don't remember much of what was said, but he wanted us to be able to understand the structure - how many bars of this before it changes to that, how to piece the whole excerpt together with a sense of its apex, development, etc. unfortunately i can't say much more on this point, but another important corollary is that it's important to be able to search a score in your mind, at least for the important parts.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Conductor's Knowledge: Ithaca 2011, pt. 2

according to CSC, there is a basic typology of beats:
Command
Information
Reaction

the analogous words in most any conducting textbook will be easy to find - i think commonly used are "active" and "passive" (analogous to the first two, with reaction falling in the "active" category). but this is a better typology because it articulates what the response from the musicians is supposed to be.

command is a beat that one expects something to happen right at the ictus of, or one given as something is in the process of happening. in every case, of course, if one wanted to count out loud in time to your pattern they should be able to do so. but this particular type of beat lets one know that you are supposed to say the word out loud, and in ideal cases how loudly and with what sort of articulation. it gives you the impression that the conductor is saying: here. here. here. there is an affirmation of sound.

information is just that, and nothing more. this happens, for example, when one musician, say a concerto player, has an extended solo section that none or very few of the instruments in the orchestra play during. the important thing about information beats is that they let the players know where in the music you are, but never incentivize the orchestra to actually play on any of said beats. the moment someone accidentally comes in (who was at all watching you), your beat has turned from information to a command beat. the information beat is interesting because we often forget when to use it. it is useful in places where the whole orchestra is playing but nothing is happening on a said beat (say if everyone had a half note in a slow tempo). the first beat would be a command beat, but the second beat of the half note would be merely information, because there is no action on it, even though everyone is playing. this is one of the easiest things to forget about using. its inclusion gives one's conducting a sensitive, various look, which avoids the stereotype that the conductor is merely a glorified metronome.

a reaction beat is tricky: it must show that you expect nothing to happen on the actual ictus of the beat, but that you DO expect something to happen directly afterwards (and the quickness with which it happens is manipulable in the gesture as well). usually this involves a slowing or complete stopping on the ictus so one can make the sudden action required to inspire a reaction. the easiest thing to do with this is to forget about the stopping. if one makes the quick motion on the beat, something will happen after, but the difficult part is preventing anything from happening on the beat, which is what the slow motion/stop is for.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Conductor's Knowledge: Ithaca 2011

carl st. clair (hereafter referred to as CSC) told us perhaps the third or fourth day into the workshop that the mission of conductors could be encapsulated in two words. he made us guess for a while. it turned out that the answer was "creating atmosphere."

this is true in many senses. while obviously some will debate that that is the sole or even the most important focus of conducting, perhaps the only other thing that one could say that was as important and not able to be really included in that very broad mission statement would refer to ensemble, coherence, and the fact that originally conductors were only required to keep large groups of musicians playing in sync. i don't think that one can really include this as a branch of "creating atmosphere."

nevertheless, it is an extraordinarily illuminating perspective. the discovery point, for studying conductors, would have to lie in what that statement isn't. in some ways it seems broad to the point of meaninglessness, but notice that is is not: keeping rhythm. leading players. inspiring music. or even: creating music.
and once we look at this particular verb and this particular noun, we can understand more of why a conductor exists.

the fact that it doesn't have to do only with leading, directing, or demonstrating is by now obvious. a conductor never wants to be seen as "the leader." s/he never wants to give off the impression that s/he is "in charge," bold, the guy/girl who is going to tell everyone how to do it. these are all positive descriptors, and strictly speaking, preferable to the opposite. but none of these are the point.

the same is true, perhaps, for verbs like "inspiring," "projecting," "portraying." these verbs have a quiet implication that the conductor is the music, and the musicians are the tools he uses to express what's inside. while that is partially true, there is in some sense a wall set up by verbs like these - the idea that inside the conductor is what must be expressed, and it's his job to sort of align all the musicians with his vision.

i'm going to go ahead and platitudinously state that what these verbs perhaps lose sight of is the fact that the conductor does not produce any sound himself. and for that revelation the second word is much more useful than the first, in my view. what else might one put in the "noun" blank? line, phrasing, information. but two at-first-tempting options - sound and music - should actually be conspicuously absent from the list (and all the subsets they imply). the conductor produces no sound. what on earth is he going to create? he can't create phrasing, the musicians do that. he can't create the conviction in the sound that impacts the audience so much. the musicians do that, too.

for every second, once the music begins to be produced by the musicians, the conductor has virtually no control over what is going to go out to the audience. there are two spaces: the space before the music is produced, and the space during and after. the conductor deals exclusively in the first. he creates the space in which the musicians place their music. by setting up a room in different configurations one can manipulate the comfort level, intensity, energy, and mood of what goes on inside it. but once those things start happening there is virtually nothing one can do (with regard to the room's layout). the conductor hopes that what is inside him will be conveyed by the atmosphere he sets up before the musicians start playing. but he can't lead the charge into what actually happens, because he never actually takes part in the "happening" stage. he creates the atmosphere via his own energy; then the musicians play as they will.

i think the reason i like this portrayal is because of its humility. many people want to stand in front of an orchestra because they feel they are qualified, entitled, or enjoy leading people. i'm not really any different. but it's great to have a mission statement that doesn't really emphasize the fact that we happen to be standing in front. in fact, we only stand in front so that people will be able to see us, and that's the only thing that enables us to create any atmosphere at all. if nobody were looking at us (or sensing us, or whatever), then they could also just look at someone else. or not anyone at all.