PROGRAM NOTES FOR VIRGINIA SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA
Classics 08 - Guitarra Española - 28 Feb & 1 March 2014
By Laurie Shulman © 2013
First North American Serial Rights Only
This weekend’s program takes its subtitle, Guitarra española, from the gorgeous guitar
concerto that concludes the first half. Not only is Joaquín Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez the
most celebrated work of its kind in the literature, it is also an important political statement for its
era, protesting the atrocities of the Spanish Civil War in the 1930s. Our soloist, Artyom Dervoed,
is an exciting young guitarist who has won several competitions and is making his VSO debut
with these performances.
But the balance of the concert has a startling unity: not only two German composers –
Beethoven and Mendelsssohn – but a distinct influence from the older master on the younger
one.
Leonore No.3 is one of four overtures Beethoven composed for his only opera, Fidelio.
More than any of the other Fidelio overtures, even the one that eventually stuck, Leonore No.3
mirrors the opera. In fact, this overture actually reveals a good deal of the plot. The hero
Florestan is an unjustly imprisoned patriot; his wife, the heroine Leonore, disguises herself as the
youth Fidelio in order to infiltrate the prison where Florestan has been incarcerated. Beethoven
uses the theme of Florestan’s big aria in the slow introduction to Leonore Overture No.3.
Later in the movement, you can practically hear the dark, tentative steps down to the
dungeon, the fear and suspense before Florestan is liberated, and then of course the triumph of
deliverance. The overture’s famous trumpet call signals the arrival of Don Fernando, the king’s
minister and a just man, which results in Florestan’s rescue in the nick of time. Psychologically,
these cumulative events provide a condensed version of the entire opera.
Realizing that Leonore No.3 gave away too much of the story, Beethoven composed his
Fidelio Overture as a substitute prelude to the opera. Paradoxically, the same qualities that
overpower Fidelio in the opera house make for superb drama in the concert hall. Leonore No.3 is
arguably the greatest concert overture in the literature.
Spain’s Joaquín Rodrigo spent several years studying in Paris, but ultimately his music
remained faithful to his homeland. Perhaps nowhere is that more apparent than in his nostalgic
Concierto de Aranjuez for guitar and orchestra. Aranjuez is a small city about 30 miles south of
Madrid. It is best known for its opulent Palacio real [royal palace], an early 18th-century jewel of
architectural classicism whose apartments are among the most splendid in Europe. Magnificent
formal gardens and parks surround the edifice, enhancing its allure through most of the year.
Although the compound originated as a summer retreat, Spanish monarchs took to moving their
court to Aranjuez during the spring, when the gardens were at their loveliest.
Much of Rodrigo’s Concierto breathes the fragrant air of those gardens, with abundant
dance rhythms and wonderful melodies adding to its charm. The slow movement is a
spellbinding lament for the turmoil of Spain during the Civil War. Rodrigo was very moved
when he learned of the carnage at Guernica, the Basque village bombed by German and Italian
warplanes on 26 April 1937 at the behest of Franco’s Nationalist regime. The attack, which
killed many civilians and caused terrible damage, also inspired Picasso’s monumental painting
“Guernica.” Rodrigo’s Adagio has a sobbing quality in the spirit of classic flamenco, with
beautiful moments for English horn and French horn as well as guitar.
Rodrigo’s outer movements are a nostalgic remembrance of Spain’s glory days.
Throughout, Rodrigo maintains an admirable balance between guitar and orchestra that is a
model of restraint for this challenging combination. He exploits the guitar’s resources with
remarkably intensity and complexity, yet also allows the soloist to display refined artistry. Since
its premiere in 1940, Concierto de Aranjuez has been an audience favorite – and the grandfather
of all guitar concerti.
In the early 1820s, the teenage Felix Mendelssohn was absorbed with Beethoven’s
music – particularly the heroic works in C major (such as the Triple Concerto, Rasumovsky
String Quartet Op.59 No.3, and the Leonore Overture that opened this program) and C minor
(the Fifth Symphony, Coriolan Overture, and Third Piano Concerto). The latter group in C minor
surely influenced Mendelssohn’s choice of C minor for his Symphony No.1.
This was Mendelssohn’s first four movement symphony for full orchestra, and the first
major orchestral work of his early maturity. Yet he was already remarkably experienced, having
written a dozen string symphonies and several concertos for one or two instruments. Reason
meets passion in this early work: classical forms combine with romantic urgency. And the
woodwind writing is miraculous.
More extended program notes by Laurie Shulman are available at www.virginiasymphony.org
Leonore Overture No. 3, Op.72b
Ludwig van Beethoven
Born 16 December, 1770 in Bonn, Germany
Died 26 March 1827 inVienna, Austria
Approximate duration 14 minutes
Beethoven's sole opera, Fidelio, preoccupied him for nearly a decade. The plot concerns
an unjustly imprisoned man, Florestan, and the efforts of his wife Leonore to effect his release.
She disguises herself as a youth, Fidelio, in order to obtain employment in the prison where her
husband is being held. That accounts for the two names with which the opera is associated. But
why three overtures called Leonore and one additional for Fidelio?
As was the case with many works he labored over for a long time, Beethoven was never
entirely satisfied with Fidelio. The overture known as Leonore No.2 was played at the opera's
premiere in November 1805. The following May, Beethoven composed the overture we hear
this evening for a revival. Adding to the confusion, the inappropriately numbered Leonore No.1
was written for a performance in Prague in 1807 that never took place. And the overture to the
opera proper – the one known as Overture to Fidelio – dates from 1814. It is in a different key, E
major, and shares no melodies with the earlier Leonore Overtures.
Though the three Leonores are all thematically related, No.3 is considered to be the
crown jewel of the set. The eminent British scholar Donald Francis Tovey referred to Leonore
No.2 as "the operatic prelude," contrasting it with No.3, which he regarded as "the perfect tone
poem." Considering the overtures in context of the opera, George Marek has written:
There are many who consider Fidelio a work to be handled with respect and
reverence, but which, to put it bluntly, they find a bore. They'd exchange the
whole opera for one overture, the Leonore No.3.
Certainly no listener need fear boredom from this splendid work. Opening with a classic
Beethoven slow introduction in 3/4 time, we move through a succession of keys before we hear a
noble melody in A-flat major, borrowed from Florestan's great Act II prison aria. Beethoven
skilfully steers us back to the bright home tonality of C major; this overture, though intimately
tied to the drama that inspired it, is no recitation of major vocal themes.
The allegro section is taut and controlled, with considerable military briskness.
Beethoven admired the French operas of Luigi Cherubini (1760-1842), which were well known
in Vienna. Both the subject matter of Fidelio and the four overtures' martial air recall aspects of
Cherubini's style. In form as well, Beethoven was influenced by Cherubini. The relative
freedom of Leonore No.3 (especially when compared to his contemporary symphonic
movements) is certainly indebted to Cherubini.
Pivotal to the overture's development section is an offstage trumpet call. In the opera,
this signals the arrival of a minister who will investigate the prison governor's evil regime. The
trumpet call thus symbolizes Florestan's deliverance. Never one to underestimate the power of
effective drama, Beethoven repeats the trumpet call before resuming the forward motion of the
overture. Following a brief reference to a song of thanksgiving from the opera, Beethoven
sweeps us along in a torrent with a breathtaking presto section that brings the movement to a
triumphant close.
The Third Leonore overture is scored for woodwinds in pairs, four horns, two trumpets,
three trombones, timpani and strings.
Concierto de Aranjuez
Joaquín Rodrigo
Born 22 November, 1901 in Sagunto, Valencia, Spain
Died 6 July, 1999 in Madrid
Approximate duration 21 minutes
Much has been written about the powerful influence of Spanish music and culture on
French musicians. Of equal import, if more subtly manifested, is the reverse process: French
music, and particularly French pedagogy and the stimulating atmosphere of Parisian salons,
exercising its own power over Spanish musicians.
Joaquín Rodrigo was one of several major Spanish composers whose music bears a
pronounced Gallic flair. He went to Paris in 1927 to study composition with Paul Dukas
(composer of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice). Rodrigo spent five years under Dukas's tutelage,
gaining the respect of his teacher and his French contemporaries as both pianist and composer.
He also met and was befriended by his older countryman Manuel de Falla (1876-1946), who had
earlier studied in Paris and was enjoying great success there. French schooling left an
unmistakable imprint of refinement and elegance on Rodrigo's imaginative, individual, and
decidedly Spanish style.
About the composer
Joaquín Rodrigo was blind. He lost his sight when he was three, the victim of a
diphtheria epidemic. His hearing was unimpaired, however, and a strong predilection for music
led him to seek formal lessons in piano, violin, and theory as a child. He matriculated at the
Conservatory in Valencia when he was 16, and had won his first national competition in
composition by the time he was 23. He worked on a special Braille music typewriter, with
manuscripts being copied into conventional notation afterward.
Concierto de Aranjuez is not only Rodrigo's best known composition; it is also the best
known guitar concerto, and a 20th-century classic. Rodrigo composed it in 1939 in Paris, where
he and his wife had been forced to remain during the turbulent years of the Spanish Civil War.
They returned to Spain in late 1939, with the manuscript. At the work's premiere in 1940,
Rodrigo was immediately acknowledged to be the leader among Spain's younger generation of
composers.
Iconic 20th-century work
Part of the work's genius lies in the delicacy with which it is scored. Rodrigo was not
daunted by the relative quietude of the guitar as a solo instrument. Rather, he celebrated its
delicacy, providing the guitarist with extensive unaccompanied passages and segments with very
light accompaniment. This has the effect of making the guitar sound very loud indeed during the
forte sections, rather than being overpowered by the breadth of the orchestra. Further, when the
full orchestra enters during the passages when the soloist is silent, the drama is palpable. Both
idiomatic and virtuosic, Concierto de Aranjuez is a masterpiece.
Rodrigo's own words about Concierto are as relevant today as they were when he wrote
them 75 years ago:
Throughout the veins of Spanish music, a profound rhythmic beat seems to be
diffused by a strange phantasmagoric, colossal and multiform instrument . . . that
might be said to possess the wings of the harp, the heart of the grand piano and
the soul of the guitar. . . . The Aranjuez Concerto is meant to sound like the
hidden breeze that stirs the tree tops in the parks, and it should be only as strong
as a butterfly, and as dainty as a veronica.
The score calls for two flutes (second doubling piccolo), two oboes (second doubling
English horn), two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets, solo guitar, and strings.
Symphony No.1 in C minor, Op.11
Felix Mendelssohn
Born 3 February, 1809 in Hamburg, Germany
Died 4 November, 1847 in Leipzig, Germany
Approximate duration 32 minutes
In November 1824, the German violinist and composer Wilhelm Speyer visited Berlin,
where he called on friends and attended various cultural and social events. Reporting to his
friend Louis Spohr (another prominent composer/violinist), he described a performance he
attended.
Karl Arnold, a childhood friend of mine, gave a concert. In this I heard a symphony by the little
Felix Mendelssohn, which moved me to astonishment. This boy is a phenomenon such as nature
seldom produces. This, his thirteenth symphony, is so excellent that it might be attributed to the
leading masters. Fantasy, originality, symmetry of forms, outstanding melodies, combined with
the strictest style of writing, the purest harmony and contrapuntal art. . . . And how splendidly,
how expressively this boy plays.
Felix was all of fourteen years old. Karl Arnold did not exaggerate: the boy was indeed a
prodigy, some think a greater genius than Mozart at a comparable age. And Arnold was correct
in identifying the symphony he heard as Mendelssohn’s thirteenth. (The composer labeled his
manuscript “Sinfonia XIII.”) This C minor symphony was pivotal, signaling a graduation from
student works to a full-fledged, ambitious, adult symphony.
The first performance, which Speyer apparently heard, is believed to have taken place in
the Mendelssohn home, on the occasion of Fanny Mendelssohn’s nineteenth birthday. The
symphony was subsequently revised and published as Felix’s Symphony No.1 in C minor, and is
commonly known as his first symphony.
Felix clearly recognized the progress he had made in this symphony. He made his
conducting début with this work in 1825 at a concert of Carl Möser, music director and
concertmaster of Berlin’s Hofkapelle. Four years later, when Mendelssohn first traveled to
England, he brought the First Symphony with him at the request of the composer Ignaz
Moscheles, then resident in London. Mendelssohn’s friend Carl Klingemann wrote from
London:
As for the symphony, I told Moscheles that I doubted whether you would already have one-although I obviously knew that you’ve been contemplating one. He assured me, however, that he
had heard one, and a very good one indeed, in C minor. He would not budge, even when I told
him that the Felix M. of today would hardly want to exhibit the Felix of the past here [in
London].
The English première of the symphony took place on 25 May, 1829 at London’s
Philharmonic Society concerts, led by the Society’s principal conductor, Sir George Smart. The
pianist and composer Johann Baptist Cramer led Mendelssohn on stage afterward to greet an
adoring public. Felix was made an honorary member of the Philharmonic Society shortly
afterward. The love affair between Mendelssohn and the British was to last through his lifetime.
To this day, the English retain a great fondness for Mendelssohn and his music.
The symphony reflects the strong influence of Beethoven, particularly stormy works in C
minor such as the Fifth Symphony and the Coriolan overture. We cannot discount other German
composers’ influence, however. Mendelssohn heard Weber’s Der Freischütz in Berlin in 1821
and was very impressed. The heady romanticism of that opera made a strong impact on the
precocious boy. He responding by infusing his opening movement with passion, fury, and drama
– characteristics we associate more with romanticism than classicism.
Equally important is the compositional skill and skilled command of instrumental
resources. The young composer sustained that polish throughout the work. His slow movement is
a monothematic sonata form softened with Italianate lyricism. The minuet and trio show his
knowledge and understanding of both Mozart and Schubert.
For the most part, the writing in the symphony is less self-consciously academic than in
the earlier string symphonies. In the finale, however, Mendelssohn does incorporate a fugato into
the development section and the transition to the coda. It is his bow to extensive counterpoint
lessons and a growing interest in the music of Bach. The fugato idea would recur in his later
symphonies, notably the finales of the “Italian” and “Scottish.” Another highlight of the finale
include a lovely clarinet second theme introduced then accompanied by pizzicato strings. The
theme (doubled by flute later in the movement) has a mystery and whimsy worthy of Berlioz.
Throughout this marvelous early work, Mendelssohn’s fastidious scoring is a harbinger
of a brilliant career as orchestrator. Every detail matters. The balance among instruments and
sections is remarkable for a fourteen-year-old. Any experienced composer twice or thrice his age
would have been proud to accomplish so much. However well we think we know Mendelssohn,
his music still holds many surprises.
Mendelssohn scored the symphony for woodwinds, horns, and trumpets in pairs; timpani,
and strings.