Andantino quasi allegretto — Pochissimo più mosso — Come prima — Pochissimo più animato
curious to know what everyone thinks of the customary "naming" a movement by its tempo changes. what happens to the custom once we get into the late 19th century and every section of a movement has a different tempo? seems silly. i don't know that there are abbreviation standards in place for this sort of thing though. i expect sometimes we just take the tempo of the main body of the movement, because usually the changes are either very close to the beginning, as an introduction to the main part, or towards the end, as the movement speeds up or winds down.
please refer to previous post for the video with the first half of this movement, am trying to avoid having to post any of these twice.
this movement is supposed to be fairly simple both in melodic content and in form, which is basic ternary. we have a very sweet almost pastoral theme, which is given first by violins. (this is also the only movement which does not begin with the violin solo, but she has her say at the end of the movement...) some program notes call this a love scene; i think it's a bit more innocent than that, but who knows.
the theme is circled around lots of instruments, and also gets lots of ornamentation in the form of a sort of rising and falling skitter or scale, usually in the upper strings or winds. it is in E flat, so it acts as a sort of neapolitan to the dominant, d minor/major. (the movement itself is in G.)
celibidache takes the middle section, which starts at 9:14, quiiiite a bit more slowly than is customary. it is introduced by a snare drum, and a dancelike theme forms the central part of the movement, first given by the clarinet, but then accented by more percussion (we get the introduction of the triangle here) and pizz from the string section. the quietness of the percussion writing, and some of the wind solos (i like the brassy trumpet one, which is so honeyed that it reminds me of some early jazz).
we go back to the original opening matter at 1:45, with the violins. scheherazade's voice comes back in for a little bit, turning into an extended string crossing arpeggiatic cadenza. as that's going on, the romantic theme of the movement comes back, with the violin finally snapping out of it to cadence with that theme.
this last segment at last shows some development of that theme, kind of interestingly late for that sort of thing. the shifting of keys typical to developments comes in around 5:00. the movement closes with a sort of blend of the more sprightly elements from the middle section and the romanticism of the main theme.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Op. 35 - II. The Kalendar Prince: Lento - Andantino - Allegro molto
the full tempo markings of this movement: Lento — Andantino — Allegro molto — Vivace scherzando — Moderato assai — Allegro molto ed animato
the opening of this movement is a little more nostalgic, with the violin solo in e minor (the first time it is in A minor, set a fourth higher), and quite a bit slower and less bold. here we get a sense of royal mystique, suspense and sparkle.
5:17 is the middle section, introduced by a rude awakening by the lower strings, alternated with a trumpet/trombone fanfare figure. this is rotated, and finally we get them stacked on top of each other above an insistent tritone chord. finally we hit a stride and the music goes into a brisk tempo giusto.
6:41 is a very unique moment - extended solos for the clarinet above perpetual pizzes. we snap out of it and back into the martial mood of the beginning of the middle section. (the new thing here is the addition of a scurrying upwards motif in the strings along with a piccolo twitter, supposedly representing sinbad's bird from the first movement.)
the middle section is flanked also by the same type of solo as the clarinet's at 6:41, this time assigned to the bassoon, along with distressed alarm bells from the high winds.
there is a brief transition to the original opening theme of the movement, with some interesting modal insertions, a bit of rubato, and some ornamentations from different instruments. overall the sound is much lusher the second time, a little more rhapsodic, but basically the same.
we pause at 2:40, and then begin a coda, which is a looooong ramp up to the end, starting with a suspended tremolo rendition of the theme in the violins, which makes room for some wind solos before accelerating the triplets to a whirling end.
the opening of this movement is a little more nostalgic, with the violin solo in e minor (the first time it is in A minor, set a fourth higher), and quite a bit slower and less bold. here we get a sense of royal mystique, suspense and sparkle.
from the kennedy center program notes:
The Kalenders were a particular category of fakir, roving monks who turned up at Eastern courts and bazaars dispensing stories, magic tricks and wit in exchange for a coin or a night's lodging. The "Kalender Prince" was one of those mendicants who turned out to be a nobleman in disguise.the theme that opens the movement after scheherazade's intro is wistful, lilting, with little grace notes, based on a repeated figure descending stepwise (and on its rhythm, which is actually a sort of hemiola). the theme is first shown by the bassoon, then the oboe, eventually becoming a dance with the strings as it is speeded up. with each repetition of the theme each instrument is given a sort of additional "ad lib" in the triplets just before the cadence to the next instrument. after the strings it is given, staccato, sprightly, and faster, to the wind section. but suddenly, at 4:25, a solo cello pauses the ramp up with a rhapsodic solo. a solo oboe rounds off the section.
5:17 is the middle section, introduced by a rude awakening by the lower strings, alternated with a trumpet/trombone fanfare figure. this is rotated, and finally we get them stacked on top of each other above an insistent tritone chord. finally we hit a stride and the music goes into a brisk tempo giusto.
6:41 is a very unique moment - extended solos for the clarinet above perpetual pizzes. we snap out of it and back into the martial mood of the beginning of the middle section. (the new thing here is the addition of a scurrying upwards motif in the strings along with a piccolo twitter, supposedly representing sinbad's bird from the first movement.)
the middle section is flanked also by the same type of solo as the clarinet's at 6:41, this time assigned to the bassoon, along with distressed alarm bells from the high winds.
there is a brief transition to the original opening theme of the movement, with some interesting modal insertions, a bit of rubato, and some ornamentations from different instruments. overall the sound is much lusher the second time, a little more rhapsodic, but basically the same.
we pause at 2:40, and then begin a coda, which is a looooong ramp up to the end, starting with a suspended tremolo rendition of the theme in the violins, which makes room for some wind solos before accelerating the triplets to a whirling end.
Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Op. 35 - I. The Sea and Sinbad's Ship: Largo e maestoso - Lento - Allegro non troppo - Tranquillo
whoo i'm behind. just fyi, for anyone who reads regularly - when/if i ever get to the point where i am caught up in terms of entries for the month, i will be backdating the entries so that there are the correct number of entries per month (this is the easiest way to keep track).
here's something fairly easy - rimsky's symphonic poem is one of his two original orchestral masterpieces, the other being his capriccio espagnole. it displays characteristic verve, color, orchestration, and the obligatory huge violin solo; it's also pretty much textbook program music. for anyone who played this piece in youth orchestra, as i did, it pretty much becomes one of the biggest representative experiences of the young musician's early career. it is just one of the most universally adored pieces out there.
this orchestral fantasy was conceived as rimsky worked to finish borodin's prince igor score, part of which was blogged here. summer of 1888, rimsky finished this as well as his russian easter overture, op. 36.
rimsky actually disliked overly programmatic tendencies, so rather than trying to tell four stories from the books, he named his movements after themes to be found in the tales. (originally the names were even more vague - prelude, ballade, etc; but his colleagues prevailed upon him to give more detailed names.) he wanted the fantasy to be a russian take on oriental/arabic themes, so you get 1. large usage of the harp and an extended percussion and wind section which included: piccolo, snare/bass drum, tambourine, cymbals, and tam-tam 2. huge russian sounds and 3. lots of implication of "oriental" music (from the european sense) like the pentatonic scale.
i have waded through lots of youtube youth orchestra debris to bring you the below recording, which is celibidache/swr stuttgart (if it is not really cooperating with you, just pause and wait; it's worth it i think). but if you have the time make sure you check out this other fascinating recording featuring david oistrakh as the concertmaster. in many places the ensemble and sometimes the intonation is kind of atrocious, but it is quite worth it to hear those few violin solos.
we open with a grand dramatic unison line in a sort of modal E, allowing the curtain to rise. the violin solo, some form of which flanks every movement, is of course, none other than scheherazade herself, telling her stories. the harp interjections lend that misty quality of sending us back on a "long long ago" type of journey. it's basically a big recitative for the violin, who gets to take pretty much as much time as s/he wants. (in instrumental terms we call this a cadenza, but it is really quite a bit more operatic than that, especially when we consider the "character"-ness of the solo.)
we're off and immediately rimsky paints a huge picture of rolling waves with the lower strings arpeggiating back and forth as per the rocking of water and the presumed ship. sinbad the sailor receives 7 tales in the original arabian nights, and they are all about his sea voyages (with i think one exception). i think in the original writing they are all encased in one tale that a post-voyage sinbad tells to another poor guy who also just happens to be named sinbad (the tale of "how i became rich," basically). almost all of the tales involve him getting shipwrecked in some fashion, but his ingenuity always prevails and allows him not only to defeat whatever monsters are in his path but to return home with even more riches as well.
this movement is basically two parts, the second part of which is almost an exact reflection of the first part except in a different key. we have the sea motif - grand, windy, soaring, played by all the strings over a full wind and brass chorale, and rising all the time. this is in E major.
3:47 is a soft wind chorale introduction to the development of that grandiose motif, which we might be able to think of as scherazade's actual storytelling - the whole grand scene sort of recedes into a "storytelling" level, the solo violin comes back to soliloquize, in b minor, and its music gets expanded into the actual story. the motif here is full of triplets, a bit more flowing, much more quickly moving, and gets twined with the waves and the theme from the beginning. notice the big brass entrance around 5:33. we reach a head at 5:53, which is a big cadence in E major. the section rounds off with a similar trailing off into the chorale figure, but this time given by six violin solo and with a bit of wind ornamentation, at 6:58.
from here to the end of the movement is basically a repeat of 3:47 on, with a different instrumentation - solo cello instead of horn, use of different wind shadings, but the same violin solo (this time in e minor). it is compressed, but contains all the same motifs.
at 9:17 we hit a tranquillo, which begins the downward ramping of this movement, as if the story has reached its apex and is just wrapping up. all the motifs seem kind of tired.
for some dumb reason the recording cuts off only like two minutes before the end of the movement so for the rest of it take a look at the next blog entry.
here's something fairly easy - rimsky's symphonic poem is one of his two original orchestral masterpieces, the other being his capriccio espagnole. it displays characteristic verve, color, orchestration, and the obligatory huge violin solo; it's also pretty much textbook program music. for anyone who played this piece in youth orchestra, as i did, it pretty much becomes one of the biggest representative experiences of the young musician's early career. it is just one of the most universally adored pieces out there.
this orchestral fantasy was conceived as rimsky worked to finish borodin's prince igor score, part of which was blogged here. summer of 1888, rimsky finished this as well as his russian easter overture, op. 36.
rimsky actually disliked overly programmatic tendencies, so rather than trying to tell four stories from the books, he named his movements after themes to be found in the tales. (originally the names were even more vague - prelude, ballade, etc; but his colleagues prevailed upon him to give more detailed names.) he wanted the fantasy to be a russian take on oriental/arabic themes, so you get 1. large usage of the harp and an extended percussion and wind section which included: piccolo, snare/bass drum, tambourine, cymbals, and tam-tam 2. huge russian sounds and 3. lots of implication of "oriental" music (from the european sense) like the pentatonic scale.
i have waded through lots of youtube youth orchestra debris to bring you the below recording, which is celibidache/swr stuttgart (if it is not really cooperating with you, just pause and wait; it's worth it i think). but if you have the time make sure you check out this other fascinating recording featuring david oistrakh as the concertmaster. in many places the ensemble and sometimes the intonation is kind of atrocious, but it is quite worth it to hear those few violin solos.
we open with a grand dramatic unison line in a sort of modal E, allowing the curtain to rise. the violin solo, some form of which flanks every movement, is of course, none other than scheherazade herself, telling her stories. the harp interjections lend that misty quality of sending us back on a "long long ago" type of journey. it's basically a big recitative for the violin, who gets to take pretty much as much time as s/he wants. (in instrumental terms we call this a cadenza, but it is really quite a bit more operatic than that, especially when we consider the "character"-ness of the solo.)
we're off and immediately rimsky paints a huge picture of rolling waves with the lower strings arpeggiating back and forth as per the rocking of water and the presumed ship. sinbad the sailor receives 7 tales in the original arabian nights, and they are all about his sea voyages (with i think one exception). i think in the original writing they are all encased in one tale that a post-voyage sinbad tells to another poor guy who also just happens to be named sinbad (the tale of "how i became rich," basically). almost all of the tales involve him getting shipwrecked in some fashion, but his ingenuity always prevails and allows him not only to defeat whatever monsters are in his path but to return home with even more riches as well.
this movement is basically two parts, the second part of which is almost an exact reflection of the first part except in a different key. we have the sea motif - grand, windy, soaring, played by all the strings over a full wind and brass chorale, and rising all the time. this is in E major.
3:47 is a soft wind chorale introduction to the development of that grandiose motif, which we might be able to think of as scherazade's actual storytelling - the whole grand scene sort of recedes into a "storytelling" level, the solo violin comes back to soliloquize, in b minor, and its music gets expanded into the actual story. the motif here is full of triplets, a bit more flowing, much more quickly moving, and gets twined with the waves and the theme from the beginning. notice the big brass entrance around 5:33. we reach a head at 5:53, which is a big cadence in E major. the section rounds off with a similar trailing off into the chorale figure, but this time given by six violin solo and with a bit of wind ornamentation, at 6:58.
from here to the end of the movement is basically a repeat of 3:47 on, with a different instrumentation - solo cello instead of horn, use of different wind shadings, but the same violin solo (this time in e minor). it is compressed, but contains all the same motifs.
at 9:17 we hit a tranquillo, which begins the downward ramping of this movement, as if the story has reached its apex and is just wrapping up. all the motifs seem kind of tired.
for some dumb reason the recording cuts off only like two minutes before the end of the movement so for the rest of it take a look at the next blog entry.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Humperdinck: Overture to Hansel und Gretel
if you have never heard of this guy, his first name is engelbert. engelbert humperdinck.
this was an opera written in about 1893, receiving its first performance under the baton of none other than richard strauss. humperdinck wrote a number of operas, almost all based on fairy tales. this is by far the most successful and well remembered (in fact, i really can't off the top of my head think of any other compositions by him =/) he did most of his writing for vocal works, both solo and choral. his operatic writing was a nice counterpart to the seriousness and darkness of contemporary Wagner, though a lot of their musical vocabulary is very similar.
the overture doesn't really relate as tightly to the characters in the opera as wagner's do, but everyone knows the story of hansel and gretel anyway so i'll avoid recapping here. the overture does deal with a sort of mood setting for the opera, evoking both a dreamy idyllic atmosphere as well as a middle section of slightly more ominous music perhaps referring to the kids' encounter with the witch. the whole overture, though, definitely maintains a playful, light and catchy tone.
the opening chorale is a really fantastic one - so simple, C major, basic harmonic progressions, but phenomenal in its effect. the music here is also the basis for the more famous "prayer and dream" section in the opera itself.
the development of the material sounds a lot like brahms to me. lush strings, sustained wind solos, and a gentle swell into a rephrase by the oboe and supporting winds.
the trumpet enters with a sprightly motif at 2:50 accompanied by sharp pizzs from the strings, waking the music up and spurring it to a more flowing tempo. the rest of the brass take up this motif until we sense a proverbial curtain raise. (even a pause for applause.)
at 3:38 the strings come with their pastoral melody, the third theme to come in. the counterpart/second theme to this is the wind dance at 4:11, and this material is based to some degree on the trumpet fanfare.
the development begins at about 4:50. we have a return of every theme so far, from the horn chorale to the sprightly winds, and this is taken on a journey through several keys as well as an accelerando. the part with all the string arpeggios is especially fun.
6:05 is a grand arrival of sorts, with all the themes finally coming out in full, particularly the strings. the swing is broad, childish, almost exaggerated. the strings get busier themes over a constantly rising and falling swell of brass.
finally we cadence in a shining C major, and we have a return of the chorale. these chord changes at this section are particularly beautiful and even unexpected.
some pretty light music for today. stay posted, i think some dvorak on the way.
this was an opera written in about 1893, receiving its first performance under the baton of none other than richard strauss. humperdinck wrote a number of operas, almost all based on fairy tales. this is by far the most successful and well remembered (in fact, i really can't off the top of my head think of any other compositions by him =/) he did most of his writing for vocal works, both solo and choral. his operatic writing was a nice counterpart to the seriousness and darkness of contemporary Wagner, though a lot of their musical vocabulary is very similar.
the overture doesn't really relate as tightly to the characters in the opera as wagner's do, but everyone knows the story of hansel and gretel anyway so i'll avoid recapping here. the overture does deal with a sort of mood setting for the opera, evoking both a dreamy idyllic atmosphere as well as a middle section of slightly more ominous music perhaps referring to the kids' encounter with the witch. the whole overture, though, definitely maintains a playful, light and catchy tone.
the opening chorale is a really fantastic one - so simple, C major, basic harmonic progressions, but phenomenal in its effect. the music here is also the basis for the more famous "prayer and dream" section in the opera itself.
the development of the material sounds a lot like brahms to me. lush strings, sustained wind solos, and a gentle swell into a rephrase by the oboe and supporting winds.
the trumpet enters with a sprightly motif at 2:50 accompanied by sharp pizzs from the strings, waking the music up and spurring it to a more flowing tempo. the rest of the brass take up this motif until we sense a proverbial curtain raise. (even a pause for applause.)
at 3:38 the strings come with their pastoral melody, the third theme to come in. the counterpart/second theme to this is the wind dance at 4:11, and this material is based to some degree on the trumpet fanfare.
the development begins at about 4:50. we have a return of every theme so far, from the horn chorale to the sprightly winds, and this is taken on a journey through several keys as well as an accelerando. the part with all the string arpeggios is especially fun.
6:05 is a grand arrival of sorts, with all the themes finally coming out in full, particularly the strings. the swing is broad, childish, almost exaggerated. the strings get busier themes over a constantly rising and falling swell of brass.
finally we cadence in a shining C major, and we have a return of the chorale. these chord changes at this section are particularly beautiful and even unexpected.
some pretty light music for today. stay posted, i think some dvorak on the way.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Brahms: Capriccio in B minor, Op. 76 No. 2
i remembered this piece on a whimsy and decided to look it up since i couldn't remember what it actually was but remember having had to analyze it at some point in my beginning theory class (i think it was given us as an example of something that sort of defies analysis. there is a bunch of strange substitution, cadencing in the wrong keys... etc).
there are 8 pieces in this Op. 76, and this is of course the second. it is marked allegretto non troppo.
this is short and there are wonderful recordings so i can afford to post a few. respectively: rubinstein, backhaus, and kempff.
when brahms wrote this in 1878 he hadn't written any solo piano music for twelve years and marked the beginning of the sort of "later" piano works which was a much smaller body. this particular capriccio has proved popular, its playful but somehow sophisticated gypsy like demeanor making the piece an immediate earworm.
the piece is in a sort of rounded binary form, where the first section is comprised of both minor and major portions (the major portion being in the relative of DM).
the middle section, starting at 1:25 (of the rubinstein), is in G Major, a dominant to the relative major D. here is some very typical Brahms piano writing - lush, arpeggiated, lots of chromatic adjustments and lyrical melodies.
recap at 2:30, with a texturally similar but still fantastically original spin on the original theme, lots of octave jumps, etc. after a lot of chromatic uncertainty, the piece slows to a halt, and ends with a B Major chord.
for me it's important to capture a sort of shadowed grace which i think kempff does quite well - the slightly slower tempo and amount of weight he gives to all the notes (which are easy to make flippant if you take the staccato at their word) are just right, as is the curve he gives to the end of each phrase. i also like how the middle section is the same tempo - for me that's about the initial tempo he chooses, so he doesn't have to change too much upon hitting the lyrical section. i also like how the a tempo doesn't feel like a recap until he actually hits the main material of the theme.
the backhaus recording is different for sure. probably just by listening, judging from his ornamentations, his rhythm and phrasing, which are more along the lines of instinct than anything else, you can tell he is actually 70 at the time of this recording.
Sibelius: Symphony No. 5 in Eb Major, Op. 82 - III. Allegro molto
this begins with a timpani roll and scurrying tremolo all throughout the strings, moving in scale-wise motion all over, in Eb major.
1:15 enter the horns with the motif that everyone will remember from this movement - a sequence of fifth, sixth, and seventh, then cycling back, all with the upper note as Bb. the winds enter with a descant-like melody - it's honestly pretty hard to focus on next to the grandness of the horns, but apparently this is one of sibelius's best known melodies. for me the best moment is at 2:26, where he stretches the interval to a major ninth and cadences from a sort of minor four to the C Major.
the scurrying theme is not at all as triumphant as we expect from the opening. the violins return with a sort of fugue based on their tremolos from the beginning, with the flutes and clarinets repeating the famed melody. the violins take over, making it into a lush but somehow anxious theme full of shadow. even when the "swan call" motif comes back (what they call the horns' motif in the beginning) it is sort of muted; it avoids cadencing satisfactorily and becomes more dissonant. it seems to me as if this music teeters on wanting to overcome the darkness of these dissonances and cadence full of light, and crumbling to end in a thundering minor.
the lighter side wins out, though not with some crunch - with chromatic rising lines in the strings and brass (note the stress at 8:00 caused by the rising A Bb Bnat C C# D Eb), and especially this CRAZY chord at 8:12 when the brass come in with something completely unidentifiable - sounds like a bitonal crash. wow. even though we have reached the grand eb major by 7:50 or so, it is not a pure triumph.
the ending is really different - six chords of the usual V-I cadence, but separated by entire bars of total silence. what do you think? it's not my favorite ending, but it might rank somewhere in the top ten.
1:15 enter the horns with the motif that everyone will remember from this movement - a sequence of fifth, sixth, and seventh, then cycling back, all with the upper note as Bb. the winds enter with a descant-like melody - it's honestly pretty hard to focus on next to the grandness of the horns, but apparently this is one of sibelius's best known melodies. for me the best moment is at 2:26, where he stretches the interval to a major ninth and cadences from a sort of minor four to the C Major.
the scurrying theme is not at all as triumphant as we expect from the opening. the violins return with a sort of fugue based on their tremolos from the beginning, with the flutes and clarinets repeating the famed melody. the violins take over, making it into a lush but somehow anxious theme full of shadow. even when the "swan call" motif comes back (what they call the horns' motif in the beginning) it is sort of muted; it avoids cadencing satisfactorily and becomes more dissonant. it seems to me as if this music teeters on wanting to overcome the darkness of these dissonances and cadence full of light, and crumbling to end in a thundering minor.
the lighter side wins out, though not with some crunch - with chromatic rising lines in the strings and brass (note the stress at 8:00 caused by the rising A Bb Bnat C C# D Eb), and especially this CRAZY chord at 8:12 when the brass come in with something completely unidentifiable - sounds like a bitonal crash. wow. even though we have reached the grand eb major by 7:50 or so, it is not a pure triumph.
the ending is really different - six chords of the usual V-I cadence, but separated by entire bars of total silence. what do you think? it's not my favorite ending, but it might rank somewhere in the top ten.
Sibelius: Symphony No. 5 in Eb Major, Op. 82 - II. Andante mosso, quasi allegretto
sibelius's choice for key of this movement, g major, is an interesting one. so is his form - it's effectively a set of theme and variations, but not discrete and developed in much the same way one would expect of any symphonic movement, emotionally speaking. the central variations have expanse and sometimes fly off the handle a bit into passionate climactic statements; the earlier variations serve as a sort of leadin for this.
having just done a set of variations on a relatively complex theme (the enigma), this seems to have some similarities - the theme just is a little unusual. to begin with, as in the elgar, the theme itself sounds like it could be a variation.
it's stated first by staccato, soft flutes in thirds, with a rhythmic motif of five quarter notes (quarter rest). this is alternated a few times with the strings.
2:15
the first variation. a playful, arco take on the main theme by the violins, circling around and adorning the main notes over sustained chords in the winds. this is a bit of a step up, intensity-wise, from the subdued theme. there is an almost impassioned middle section, and when the violin line comes back, it accelerandos into an almost rushed-sounding outpouring, landing us somewhere in the middle of Eb major by the time we're there. it's in this limbo we start the next "variation" - in fact it's quite difficult to tell where, exactly; it's somewhere around 4:35. now we are in a sort of development; the chords are restless and leading, but the basic contour of the music is the same.
5:25 is the beginning of a new variation, featuring "see-saw" figurations in the strings and staccato winds.
it seems here that each return to the main theme is becoming compressed, as is the rhythm (which becomes faster and faster) and intensity. at around 6:17, though, we hit a stride, as if he has realized what he's doing - and all of a sudden the music becomes subdued. amid grey pizzs which are in the right rhythm but otherwise descend instead of ascending like the theme, there are occasional swells of brassy angst which eventually just go away.
winds come in singing for perhaps the first time in the whole movement; tentatively and darkly, the strings follow them. finally they resolve in g major, but it is somehow sad.
very poignant movement, and sort of difficult to understand.
having just done a set of variations on a relatively complex theme (the enigma), this seems to have some similarities - the theme just is a little unusual. to begin with, as in the elgar, the theme itself sounds like it could be a variation.
it's stated first by staccato, soft flutes in thirds, with a rhythmic motif of five quarter notes (quarter rest). this is alternated a few times with the strings.
2:15
the first variation. a playful, arco take on the main theme by the violins, circling around and adorning the main notes over sustained chords in the winds. this is a bit of a step up, intensity-wise, from the subdued theme. there is an almost impassioned middle section, and when the violin line comes back, it accelerandos into an almost rushed-sounding outpouring, landing us somewhere in the middle of Eb major by the time we're there. it's in this limbo we start the next "variation" - in fact it's quite difficult to tell where, exactly; it's somewhere around 4:35. now we are in a sort of development; the chords are restless and leading, but the basic contour of the music is the same.
5:25 is the beginning of a new variation, featuring "see-saw" figurations in the strings and staccato winds.
it seems here that each return to the main theme is becoming compressed, as is the rhythm (which becomes faster and faster) and intensity. at around 6:17, though, we hit a stride, as if he has realized what he's doing - and all of a sudden the music becomes subdued. amid grey pizzs which are in the right rhythm but otherwise descend instead of ascending like the theme, there are occasional swells of brassy angst which eventually just go away.
winds come in singing for perhaps the first time in the whole movement; tentatively and darkly, the strings follow them. finally they resolve in g major, but it is somehow sad.
very poignant movement, and sort of difficult to understand.
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