Katie Farrer
Senior Recital Program
February 20, 2004
Prelude and Fugue in E Minor…………………………………………………...J. S. Bach
from The Well-Tempered Clavier (Das Wohltemperirte Clavier), Book I
(1685-1750)
BWV 855
Sonata in F Major, Op. 10, no. 2…………………………………..Ludwig van Beethoven
(1770-1827)
I.
Allegro
II.
Allegretto
III.
Presto
-PauseFour Anniversaries……………………………………………………...Leonard Bernstein
(1918-1990)
I.
For Felicia Montealegre (February 6, 1922)
II.
For Johnny Mehegan (June 6, 1920)
III.
For David Diamond (July 9, 1915)
IV.
For Helen Coates (July 19, 1899)
Impromptu in F-Sharp Major, Op. 36……………………………………..Frédéric Chopin
(1810-1849)
Katie Farrer is a student of Michael Matsinko.
She is pursuing B.A. majors in music and in history.
Next year, Katie plans to continue her education in graduate school.
Please join us for a reception in the lounge following her recital.
Prelude and Fugue in E-Minor
From The Well-Tempered Clavier (Das Wohltemperirte Clavier), Book I
BWV 855
J. S. Bach
The composer and pianist Robert Schumann told young pianists in 1848, “Let the WellTempered Clavier be your daily bread. Then you certainly will become a solid musician.”1
Although the collection of forty-eight pieces were never formally published during Bach’s
lifetime as they were written primarily for instructive purposes for his keyboard and composition
students, they have remained an important part in the education of young pianists since the
eighteenth century because of the number of techniques presented in the two books of preludes
and fugues. Bach intended this to be the purpose for these works, as he inscribed “For the use
and profit of the musical youth desirous of learning and for the pastime of those already skilled in
this study [of learning the keyboard and compositional techniques]” on the title page of Part I of
the collection.2 Part I was completed in 1721 or 1722 while he was the organist and chamber
musician in Weimer and Part II in 1742 when he was in responsible for providing liturgical music
for Leipzig’s four main churches.3
What then, does the title of the collection infer? Bach used the term “clavier” to suggest
that any the pieces may be played on any keyboard instrument including a harpsichord,
clavichord, or organ, which today includes the modern piano. “Well-Tempered” referred to a
relatively new tuning system that divided the octave into twelve half steps of equal size.4 Such a
system enabled Bach to write a prelude and fugue for each major and minor key beginning with C
major and ascending chromatically. He was one of the first to exploit the tuning system’s
abilities in this way.
Each of the preludes and fugues in the two parts of The Well-Tempered Clavier are
unique and reflect Bach’s goal of introducing a variety of contrapuntal techniques to his students.
It is not uncommon to find two- and three- part inventions, toccatas, and binary dance forms
within the preludes alone. The prelude in E minor is unique because it is a study for both the
right and left hands. The left hand, although it does not carry the melody like the right, contains
only sixteenth notes that typically follow the pattern of a jump of a perfect fourth followed by
three notes in a scale pattern, providing momentum for the movement, which unlike others, does
not begin with an upbeat. The second part of the prelude is most like a two-part invention. Here,
the pianist plays the pattern established earlier by the left hand in both hands at a tempo that is
now nearly doubled. The changed tempo provides a perfect introduction to the fugue, which is
based primarily on arpeggiated chords. Bach employs double (invertible) counterpoint, which
means that the left and right hands are in a sense interchangeable. The theme, which is
introduced by the right hand in the first two measures, is then adopted by the left. However, it is
only developed by these two voices, making the fugue quite lively and more transparent than
other fugues in the collection.
1
Herbert Kupferberg, Basically Bach: A 300th Birthday Celebration, (New York: McGraw-Hill Book
Company, 1985), 7.
2
Stephen Daw, “Bach, Johann Sebastian” in Oxford Composer Companions: J.S. Bach, edited by
Malcolm Boyd, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 41.
3
Richard D. P. Jones, “Well-Tempered Clavier” in Oxford Composer Companions: J. S. Bach, edited by
Malcolm Boyd, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 516.
4
Mark Evans Bond, A History of Music in Western Culture (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2003),
269.
Sonata in F Major, Op. 10, no. 2
I.
Allegro
II.
Allegretto
III.
Presto
Ludwig van Beethoven
Most people would agree that having a sense of humor makes life more bearable.
Judging from this sonata, it would be safe to say that Beethoven agreed. Beethoven composed
the three Opus 10 piano sonatas from 1796-1798 while living in Vienna where he witnessed the
development of the pianoforte, a new keyboard instrument, which was designed to produce legato
lines because of the addition of a damper pedal, as well as gradations in volume. 5 The influences
of earlier composers such as Clementi are discernable in some sonatas, but the Opus 10 trio is
distinctively Beethoven. Although Beethoven often used four movements in his early piano
sonatas (most commonly used in symphonies), this sonata only has three. The lyrical and
reflective second movement interrupts the intensity found in the other two faster movements.
The humor present, especially in the first movement, reflects joy in twisting “words into
puns and nonsense rhymes in his letters.”6 The two main themes both begin on upbeats rather
than on downbeats, catching listeners off-guard and the second theme is significantly longer than
the first. Beethoven interrupts both by introducing new ideas and keys. Adding to the curiosities
of this movement is the use of only the intervals between the last three notes of the exposition in
the development section. Furthermore, the beginning of the recapitulation is not in the tonic key
of F major, but in D minor instead. Although Beethoven called the second movement an
Allegretto, it actually is a scherzo, a type of dance. Both hands introduce the movement by
playing the theme in unison. Beethoven follows the structure of a scherzo by interjecting a
contrasting trio section that is reminiscent of a four-part chorale or hymn before reintroducing the
theme in a polyphonic and syncopated manner. He uses the last two chords of the movement to
modulate from f minor to F major, in a sense introducing the third movement prematurely. 7 The
third movement begins with the left hand introducing the theme and continuing to develop it
while the right hand echoes it. Unlike the similar structure seen in Bach’s fugue, the texture does
not remain imitative. The movement therefore is divided into two sections (with the second being
longer) and is like that of an early sonata, similar to what a composer such as Domenico Scarlatti
may have written. If you listen closely, you can hear the original theme recur throughout the
movement, especially in the inner lines. The Presto is loud, fast, lively, and intense, and a perfect
ending for the jocular first movement and the reflective second.8
It was also at this time that he first began having trouble hearing. Harold Truscott, “The Piano Music—I”
in The Beethoven Reader, edited by Denis Arnold and Nigel Fortune (New York: W. W. Norton and Co.,
Inc., 1971), 68; Russell Martin, Beethoven’s Hair (New York: Broadway Books, 2000), 59.
6
Eric Blom, Beethoven’s Pianoforte Sonatas Discussed (New York: Da Capo Press, 1968), 39.
7
Randel, “Scherzo,” 591.
8
Although not paraphrased or quoted directly, Eric Blom’s Beethoven’s Pianoforte Sonatas Discussed has
been referenced in explaining the sonata.
5
Four Anniversaries
I.
For Felicia Montealegre (February 6, 1922)
II.
For Johnny Mehegan (June 6, 1920)
III.
For David Diamond (July 9, 1915)
IV.
For Helen Coates (July 19, 1899)
Leonard Bernstein
In the midst of a blossoming career as a conductor, in 1948 Leonard Bernstein wrote this
cycle of piano pieces in honor of the birthdays of the people with whom he felt he had been
closest during the previous year. Four Anniversaries was not the only such cycle, as he wrote
Seven Anniversaries in 1943 (dedicating movements to his sister, the conductor Sergei
Koussevitzky, and composer William Schuman), Five Anniversaries in 1965, and Thirteen
Anniversaries in 1988. The short piano pieces capture Bernstein’s compositional characteristics
with their “chromatically conceived melodious themes, multicolor rhythms, [and] rich
harmonies.”9 Four Anniversaries, like other works written in the late-1940s, shows the influence
of Igor Stravinsky in rhythmical drive and of Aaron Copland in the melodic lines.10 Copland’s
legacy is heard most clearly in the first movement, dedicated to Felicia Montealegre, Bernstein’s
then-fiancée and later bride. The movement is introduced by a simple lyrical section, followed by
a section that contains more movement, chromaticism, and texture while remaining motivically
related to the original. Bernstein did not merely dedicate the pieces to his friends and colleagues,
but rather he strove to capture the essence of each person’s personality and if applicable, their
own compositional tendencies. Perhaps the best example of this is the second movement,
dedicated to the jazz pianist John Mehegan, with whom Bernstein had spent part of the summer
of 1947 at Tanglewood. This is the shortest movement, but possibly the most technical, as it is
riddled with syncopation, jazz chords, and sudden changes in dynamics. His familiarity with
writing such lively rhythms would become most evident later in West Side Story (1957) or Mass:
A Theater Piece for Singers, Players, and Dancers (1971). Treated similarly was David
Diamond, a composer who was more of a classicist than Mehegan and Bernstein. Diamond had
studied with Nadia Boulanger in France as well as with Roger Sessions, and had written for
symphonies, chamber ensembles, the piano, voice, and chorus. His style is reflected in the lyrical
nature of the third movement (though not to the extent of the first), and is contrasted with the
jazz-influenced second movement.11 The second part of this movement contains imitation that
could be likened to an invention, a reference to the counterpoint that Diamond also studied.
Bernstein’s childhood was plagued with illnesses and as a result, he was an introverted
youngster. He began taking piano lessons when he was ten, much to the chagrin of his Russianimmigrant Jewish father who associated music with poverty and who wanted his son to become a
rabbi or businessman. After being properly introduced to piano technique by Helen Coates (he
had learned to improvise on the piano on his own), he took lessons from several prominent
pianists and musicians both in piano and composition. Coates, for whom the last movement was
named, had been his secretary and personal assistant since 1944.12 The overall pattern in the
movements is slow-fast-slow-fast, ending with this lively and ebullient movement.
9
Peter Gradenwitz, Leonard Bernstein: The Infinite Variety of a Musician, (New York: Oswald Wolff
Books, 1987), 139.
10
Ibid., 139.
11
Don Michael Randel, ed., “Diamond, David,” The Harvard Concise Dictionary of Music and Musicians
(Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999), 185.
12
Gradenwitz, 21-24 passim.
Impromptu in F-Sharp Major, Op. 36
Frédéric Chopin
In order to appreciate Chopin’s music, it is necessary to recognize that although he was
trained as a composer and many of his contemporaries viewed him as such, he was also a pianist
and therefore understood the compositional complexities of his instrument. Yes, melodies from
nocturnes or even this impromptu could be taken and transposed onto another instrument, but
because he designed beautiful melodies, as well as intricate harmonies and accompaniments to
complement them, it is nearly impossible to reproduce the sounds heard rising from the piano.
The expressiveness of his music then comes not from the melody, but the balance between the
melody and the accompaniment, as these two elements are frequently intertwined. Chopin
himself said, “In my view he is a lucky man who can be both composer and executant at the same
time.”13 This said, however, Chopin only performed in about thirty truly public performances
(this number discounts an unknown number of performances or appearances that he made in the
salons, or private house parties that frequently had musical performances, and that were quite
popular in nineteenth-century France). Unlike Franz Liszt, whose performance style could best
be described as “grandiose,” Chopin believed that those characteristics that defined proper
nineteenth-century men such as precision, good manners, “poetic warmth and a romantic fervor
of expression” should be present in public performance as well.14
The Harvard Concise Dictionary of Music and Musicians defines an impromptu as “a
composition, usually for piano, in an offhand or extemporized style or perhaps intended to
suggest the result of sudden inspiration.”15 Therefore, although impromptus typically ascribe to a
ternary form, this need not always occur; any form may be used so long as the piece does not
adhere to the rules of formal theory too rigidly. Within the Impromptu, Chopin frequently
expressed this sense of “sudden inspiration” by ending various sections of this piece abruptly,
instead of transitioning smoothly into another or fully developing a theme as might otherwise be
expected.16 The folklike theme initially introduced by the right hand at the beginning of the piece
frequently returns in foreign keys interrupting martial interludes and a brilliant scale passage
accompanied by an intriguing chromatic harmony that in many cases draws more attention than
the thirty-second note runs in the right hand. The scale passage ends the Impromptu with a trill
that leads into the recurring chordal processional section introduced in the beginning of the piece,
as though awakening the listener from a dream.
Arthur Hedley, “Chopin: The Man” in Chopin: Profiles of the Man and the Musician, edited by Alan
Walker, (New York: Taplinger Publishing Company, 1966), 14.
14
Ibid., 16.
15
Randel, “Impromptu,” 314.
16
Herbert Weinstock, Chopin: The Man and His Music (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1965), 241-242.
13