Santa Cruz County Symphony 2007-2008 Season
Concert 2 Program Notes
November 3, 2007
Santa Cruz Civic
Pre-concert talk by Don Adkins at 7pm in the Auditorium
SIEGFRIED IDYLL (1870)
RICHARD WAGNER (1813-1883)
Cosima Wagner woke on her 33rd birthday, which also happened to be the first Christmas Day of her marriage to Richard Wagner, to the sounds of a small orchestra playing on the steps inside her home on the shore of Lake Lucerne: “As I awoke my ear caught a sound, which swelled fuller and fuller; no longer could I imagine myself to be dreaming; music was sounding, and such music! When it died away, Richard came into my room with the children and offered me the score of the symphonic birthday poem. I was in tears, but so was all the rest of the household. Richard had arranged his orchestra on the staircase, and thus was our Tribschen [their name for their villa] consecrated forever. After lunch the orchestra came into the house downstairs, and now the Idyll was heard once again, to the profound
emotion of us all.”
The original title of the Siegfried Idyll was Tribschen Idyll, with Fidi’s Birdsong and Orange Sunrise as a Symphonic Birthday Greeting from Richard to Cosima. Fidi was Wagner’s pet name for his son Siegfried, the birdsong referred to a bird that was heard at his son’s birth, and the orange sunrise was the morning sun reflecting off the orange wallpaper in Cosima’s room during the birth. Their marriage was the culmination of a relationship that first began in 1857 but was severely complicated by the fact that Cosima was married to Hans von Bülow, one of the greatest conductors of his time, a proponent of Wagner’s music and a close friend of Wagner who was also married. Cosima was the well-known daughter of Franz Liszt which pushed the scandal of this relationship even further into the public’s awareness. Cosima and Wagner grew closer over the years leading up to 1864 at Lake Starnberg where their first child, Isolde, was conceived in spite of the fact von Bülow was in the same house. Cosima moved in with Wagner when his wife died but didn’t bother divorcing von Bülow. After two more illegitimate children and four more years of public exposure, Hans divorced Cosima, leaving her free to marry Richard. von Bülow stated: “If he wasn’t such a good friend, I would have shot him!” Wagner’s musical response to the tryst at Lake Starnberg was to write sketches for a string quartet. The quartet was abandoned but the main theme became the setting for the love duet in Siegfried between Brünnhilde and Siegfried and also appears in the Idyll as the representation of his love for Cosima. Two other Siegfried themes appear in the Idyll as does the German lullaby “Sleep My Child, Sleep.”
Financial difficulties in 1878 forced Wagner to reorchestrate this work for larger orchestra and publish it. The decision to make the Idyll public was difficult for both Richard and Cosima because of its intimate representation of their love for each other and their child Siegfried. He wrote the following program which refers to the source of the principle melodies as the opera Siegfried rather than his early response to his passion for Cosima and their life together. The language of this program is cleansed of any personal references and has been filled with details that appear to be designed to entertain the reader rather than explain what he was actually thinking when he wrote the original version eight years earlier.
“The first ninety measures of Siegfried Idyll, in order to sing of the purity and holiness of the child’s soul, use Brünnhilde’s theme from the opera Siegfried (“From Eternity to Eternity Am I”). The mother, near his little bed, sings the boy to sleep with a lullaby. He falls asleep, during the soft, intermittent horn notes. The mother notices that he is asleep, but she continues to sing, though halting several times. A series of trills indicates that the boy is now deeply asleep. “The mother gazes thoughtfully upon her beloved child and dreams about his future. She seems touched by a shiver as she thinks about the unknown man who will grow from this boy – arpeggios in the strings. She envisions (when the meter changes to ¾) a handsome man in flowering youth. This is Siegfried’s theme of glory, from the opera (“Siegfried, Thou Glorious Protector of the World”), as sounded by an interplay of flutes, clarinets, and oboes. A descending clarinet run expresses the mother’s delight; then the strings pick up the theme. It is combined with the holy music: in the mother’s soul her remembrance of the boy’s childhood and of her cares joins with this vision of maturity.
“Now the mother envisions the youth becoming more manly and growing in strength: he is driven to accomplish important deeds. He gains for himself a place among men. But then comes a moment of contemplation. A nameless desire captures the youth’s heart as he wanders alone (forest sounds and birdsongs and the theme of love and unity from Siegfried). Passion awakens in him, and he feels for the first time soul-wearying pains. His passion grows until finally love makes him happy. The highest sound of joy signals the full happiness of his life in love. Birdsongs foretell success (from Siegfried), and gladness is expressed along with feelings about the innocent childhood of the soul (“From the Time of Youth, a Song Ever Sings in Me”).
“The mother awakens from her reverie and turns again to the slumbering child. She gives thanks for her happiness and prays for heaven to bless her son. Once again the lullaby is heard, along with the theme of holiness. Suddenly the haunting forest horns and birdsongs return. Does the boy dream of his future? No, he sleeps quietly with a happy smile. After a final loving kiss from the mother, the future hero rests in the care of God.”
~Don Adkins
CONCERTO FOR CELLO AND ORCHESTRA IN A MINOR, OP. 129 (1850)
ROBERT SCHUMANN (1810-1856)
Despite the efforts of musicians of discretion and good taste such as Mendelssohn and Schumann, European piano music in the 1830s, especially in Germany, had fallen upon bad times. The market was glutted with mindless fantasies on opera themes and popular tunes, and virtuosity was worshipped for its own sake. A writer of the time, Karl Weitzmann, reported: “The pianoforte works published by Hünten and Rosellen...fellow pupils of Herz...sank to the merest factory work, although when issued they went off so rapidly that the publishers paid higher prices for single sheets ...than the complete larger works of Beethoven had brought.” A man of letters as well as music, Schumann took up arms in his journal Neue Zeitschrift, initiated in 1834. It can be argued that this publication was a major factor in the development of Romantic music. In Schumann’s eyes, virtuosity was the plague of his time. Years later he wrote: “Herz and Hünten were the sole lords of the piano. And yet but a few years had elapsed since Beethoven, von Weber and Franz Schubert were with us. To be sure, Mendelssohn’s star was in the ascendant; and wonderful things were reported of a Pole, Chopin by name; but they exercised no real influence till later.” Schumann’s piano concerto (1845) was a model for many composers of how to write a concerto with no empty virtuosic effects. Fifteen years later his cello concerto again demonstrated the same style of honest, heart-felt musical expression instead of crowd-pleasing technique.
As municipal music director of Düsseldorf, Schumann worked mainly as a conductor. After a brief and unsuccessful beginning in 1850, he was asked to relinquish the position. He and his family enjoyed the town so much, however, that they remained for the next few years. The cello concerto was composed one month after their arrival in Düsseldorf. He and his wife Clara were ecstatic over their new surroundings and Robert quickly composed both the concerto and the “Rhenish” Symphony. These were his last major compositions before the onset of mental illness curtailed the pace of his compositional activities. Although it was written in just fifteen days, Schumann continued to tinker with the concerto for several years until he was hospitalized in the asylum at Endich, where he remained until his death. He had never heard a performance of his concerto.
This lyric concerto is devoid of all showmanship, although it has several difficult passages. All three movements flow almost seamlessly into each other, giving it the quality of a one-movement concerto, a form favored by Liszt and his supporters. The first movement opens with one of the most beautiful melodies written by Schumann. The slow second movement, due to the transition passage, feels more like a slow middle section than a separate movement. At the end of the second movement the opening melody returns, followed by a quasi-recitative section that leads into the final quick movement.
Like many of Schumann’s longer compositions, the Cello Concerto demonstrates the composer’s difficulties in working with larger forms. As a miniature writer, he was held in great esteem by his peers. However, although his larger works demonstrate all of his lyric gifts, they tend toward a looseness of construction. The Cello Concerto is no exception. Even his choice to write the concerto as one uninterrupted expanse of music runs against his aesthetic principle that multiple movements are essential to a clear understanding of extended works. The beauty of his Cello Concerto is found in the examination of each detail and the enjoyment of the moment.
~Don Adkins
MEDITATION FROM THAÏS (1893)
JULES MASSENET (1842-1912)
Thaïs is a vehicle opera: a show whose success depends almost entirely on the spectacular singing of the lead role. Massenet wrote this opera for a soprano from Sacramento, California, Sybil Sanderson, who was the toast of Paris at this time. Not only did she supply the glorious voice, but she also was involved in a “wardrobe malfunction” during the premiere which provided enough scandal to make this a true success in the eyes of the French. The opera was a big hit and remained in the repertoire of the Paris Opera until 1956. The story of Thaïs is based on a novel by Anatole France set during the fourth century. An Egyptian courtesan living in Alexandria, Thaïs, has been targeted by a Christian monk, Athanaël, for conversion. He convinces her that holy love is a greater prize than earthly love. After placing her in the confines of a convent, the monk returns to the desert only to discover that he now loves Thaïs. A vision of a dying Thaïs drives him back to the convent where he renounces his vows and declares that earthly love is the only way between earthly beings. Thaïs recognizes him at first but is consumed with her final vision of two angels and God preparing her for heaven. She dies a saint and Athanaël is left with nothing. The Meditation is played during the Act II scene change. The previous scene the monk and Thaïs have a confrontation which plants the seeds of conversion in her. The scene change music represents her thoughts through the night as she ponders her next step. The next morning finds Thaïs ready to go with Athanaël to begin her new life. The Meditation music returns at the end of the opera during Thaïs’s dying vision. The original instrumentation is for solo violin accompanied by harp and later joined by wordless choir. The version used for this performance features the solo violin with a reduced orchestra accompaniment.
~Don Adkins
SYMPHONY NO. 100 IN G MAJOR “MILITARY” (1794)
FRANZ JOSEPH HAYDN (1732 –1809)
At the advanced age—especially for those times—of 58, Haydn found himself in an exciting situation. He had faithfully served as Kapellmeister in the service of the Esterházy family since 1761, a position allowing him to develop into Europe’s foremost composer. Haydn’s obligations precluded any opportunities to travel to the large cultural centers of Europe. His situation did have its advantages as Haydn told his biographer Griesinger: “My Prince was satisfied with all my endeavors; I was applauded; as chief of the orchestra I could make experiments, observe what improved the general impression and what weakened it; and so I could correct, add, cut out; and I could be daring. I was isolated from the world and there was nobody near me to torment me or make me unsure of myself; and so I had to become original.” Haydn’s Prince for 28 years, Nicolaus Esterházy, the music lover who had jealously kept Haydn in this creative isolation, was dead. The new prince, Paul Anton Esterházy, fired both the Esterházy court orchestra and opera company two days after his father’s death and gave Haydn a comfortable yearly stipend with no duties expected. Haydn was now essentially on his own. Haydn immediately tested his new freedom by moving to Vienna where a strange thing took place. Soon after his arrival, a man entered his room and announced: “My name is Salomon. I have come from London to fetch you; we shall conclude our accord tomorrow.” Salomon was a well-known violinist and impresario who commissioned Haydn to write numerous works for Salomon’s series of concerts in London. Not only were the financial arrangements spectacular, but the prospect of such an exciting journey for a healthy and curious Haydn was beguiling. After many goodbyes, including Mozart who was also being considered by Salomon for the next season, Haydn and his new friend made the grueling journey from Vienna to London. The voyage across the English Channel was especially stormy but Haydn was pleased to report he was one of the few who did not get sea-sick. Haydn found himself in the middle of a competition between the Salomon concerts and Cramer’s Professional Concerts who hired Pleyel, a student of Haydn’s, to serve as principal composer the next season. Two weeks after Haydn’s arrival, the Morning Chronicle reported the following: “Upon the arrival of HAYDN, it was discovered that he no longer possessed his former powers. Pity is that the discovery did not possess the merit of novelty.” During this extended period of speculation and sniping, Haydn quietly worked on the first two symphonies, now numbered 96 and 95. The public debut of 96 silenced the opposition once and for all. The Morning Chronicle now reported: “Never, perhaps, was there a richer musical treat. It is no wonder that to souls capable of being touched by music, HAYDN should be an object of homage, and even of idolatry; for like our own SHAKESPEARE, he moves and governs the passions at his will.”
Haydn loved England. He constantly traveled and attended social functions including dinner with the Royal family. He was awarded an honorary doctorate from Oxford. Estranged from his wife for many years, he attracted the attention of several English ladies and enjoyed the attention he received from his many admirers even though he spoke little English. When his contract concluded, Haydn stayed in England for several more months before returning to Vienna. He wanted to return to England the next year but decided to stay in Vienna until the social upheaval caused by the Napoleonic Wars and the guillotining of Louis XVI settled. He returned in 1794 with a contract which included another six symphonies. (Haydn’s last twelve symphonies were written for the London concerts.) He might have stayed in London for an extended time if not for the death of Paul Anton Esterházy. When the music-loving Nicholas II assumed leadership and dedicated himself to restoring the musical life of the court, Haydn decided to return to Austria at the end of his London contract.
The subtitle for this symphony, “Military”, was not supplied by Haydn. The inspiration for this label came from the appearance in the second movement of a trumpet signal and the use of percussion instruments associated with Turkish music: triangle, cymbals and bass drum. The program for the premier performance in London listed it as a New Grand Overture with the “Military Movement.” London’s Morning Chronicle reported after the second performance of the symphony: “Another new symphony by Haydn was performed for the second time; and the middle movement was again received with absolute shouts of applause. Encore! encore! encore! resounded from every seat: the ladies themselves could not forbear. It is the advancing battle, the sounding of the charge, the thundering of the onset, the clash of arms, the groan of the wounded, and what may well be called the hellish roar of war increased to a climax of horrid sublimity! which, if others can conceive, he alone can execute; at least, he alone hitherto has effected these wonders.” A program that was used by an audience member during one of these performances has written across the top: “grand but very loud.” This movement was actually written eight years earlier for the King of Naples as the Romance movement of a concerto for the lira organizzata, a type of hurdy-gurdy. Haydn orchestrated this movement with relatively few changes to the basic work. Some scholars believe his use of such aggressive instrumentation was inspired by the ongoing French Revolution. The use of the Turkish percussion instruments at the end of the fourth movement was called into question by some critics who thought their use in the second movement was sufficient to establish a military mood. When Haydn’s former student Ignaz Pleyel published the symphony in 1799, he gave it the title Symphonie turque which was probably more in keeping with Haydn’s original inspiration for his unique orchestration.
~Don Adkins