For this week, I thought I would turn to a big-name composer -- someone like Bach, Brahms or Beethoven -- and listen to a piece I had never heard before. I listen to classical music daily (usually via my local radio station WVTF and also WQXR out of New York), so I’m familiar with a lot of classical music, but I certainly can’t say I’ve heard everything the major composers have written. About a year or so before the pandemic, I travelled to the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC, for a concert that featured Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2, one of my favorites. However, the program also included Tchaikovsky’s “The Tempest.” I’d never heard nor heard of that piece. I knew Tchaikovsky wrote an orchestral fantasy based on Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” but I didn’t know he’d composed any other work based on Shakespeare. Oh em gee -- “The Tempest” was awful. I would have to say it was one of the worst things I’ve heard in concert. I can understand why the piece is not played regularly or included on “greatest hits” albums and CDs of Tchaikovsky. I ran a Google-search on “The Tempest” and found this information, a passage written by the composer himself after hearing the work in concert in 1879: “Today's performance of The Tempest did not please me. Its form is too long, episodic and unbalanced. The effect of these disconnected episodes produces a lack of movement and coherency. It grieves me to admit that I could be responsible for something so unsuccessful at its performances, and incomprehensible to the public" Sooo...back to my decision to listen to a never-heard-before piece by a major composer. I wondered if I would have another experience similar to the Tchaikovsky/Tempest incident? Would I find some long-lost or neglected work by one of the greats that has fallen out favor with the public for good reason? To select a piece, I ran a Google-search on “least known works by Mozart,” and I found this article, “Discover the 10 most unfairly neglected Mozart works,” HERE. It was here I found Mozart’s “Piano Duet Sonata in F, K497,” coming in at number 5 on the list. A piano duet sonata? I didn’t even realize that such a thing existed (and I play the piano). I had no idea that Mozart wrote piano sonatas for both two pianos and for one piano, four hands.
Another article I found about the piece said this:
"Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart entered his Sonata for piano duet in F major, K. 497, into his personal catalog of works on August 1, 1786, 12 years after he had composed his last sonata for piano duet. Prior to 1786, he had composed three sonatas for piano duet for himself and his sister. But after he left Salzburg for Vienna, Mozart no longer had his sister at hand, and his production of duet sonatas abruptly stopped. Indeed, he was to write only one more sonata in 1787 for piano duet before he stopped writing piano duets altogether. The four-movement Sonata in F major is in the form of a church sonata opening with an Adagio followed by an Allegro di molto, an Andante, and an unmarked closing movement that is self-evidently an Allegro. Although the virtuoso technique and witty dialogue of the players is as elegant as earlier, the tender charm of his youthful music is replaced by a more self-consciously bright and brilliant elegance of his mature music." Oh, the sonata is bright and elegant -- and very Mozart-y to be sure; however, to be honest, it just didn’t do a whole lot for me. Generally my reaction to the entire piece was kinda “meh” -- but in a very positive way. It is certainly very charming to listen to, and it makes for lovely background music. I just don’t think I’d queue this up often to listen to again, and if I were going to select something to play by Mozart, it would not be this. Interestingly, some phrases in the second movement kept niggling me. Had I heard the piece before? No, but it sure sounded the same or very similar to some other piece by Mozart -- but what? It was driving me crazy -- and then I scrolled through the comments on the YouTube video and found this: “The andante sounds just like the second movement of K 495"; click HERE. (Thank you to listener "StevemStevenson" for posting that comment and link!) : ) Overall, Mozart's Piano Sonata in F Major for Four Hands rated BLUE for me on my scale of Red to Green (below), and I suppose in the coming days I can check out some of the other pieces on Gramophone's list of neglected works by Mozart. Maybe some of them will rate higher?
0 Comments
For this week, I thought I would listen to a piece that features an instrument that is rarely featured on the concert stage, so I ran a Google-search on “concertos for the double bass.” To be honest, I didn’t even know if any concertos for the double bass even existed. I figured that some must have been written at some point throughout the history of music -- and sure enough, some have -- but not very many. I found this article on Wikipedia, HERE, that listed various concertos, and I ultimately selected Giovanani Bottesini’s Concerto for Double Bass No. 2 in B Minor because (1) Bottesini was described as the “Paganini of the double bass” and (2) several articles I found stated that this concerto is “the most widely studied and performed work in the bass repertoire.” The concerto is relatively short -- only about 16 or 17 minutes long -- and it is divided into three movements: I. Allegro moderato II. Andante III. Allegro con fuoco I did enjoy the piece though I was somewhat disappointed -- and maybe unfairly so -- because much of the work focused on the instrument’s upper register. At times it sounded more like a work for cello. Hmm -- perhaps this should have been a concerto for cello and bass? I had hoped for more of a focus on the lower register of the bass. The Wikipedia article I linked above states, “The double bass has not been a popular choice for a solo instrument, mainly due to the difficulties of balancing the soloist and orchestra so that the former is not overshadowed by the orchestra's volume. The low register of the double bass makes it difficult to project; to help resolve this problem, many composers (most notably Bottesini) wrote solo parts in the high register of the instrument.” Of course, this concerto was written in 1845, so it’s predictably traditional in sound. Also, I’m not surprised that Bottesini composed so much of it in the higher reaches of the bass. In this way, he could show off the versatility of the instrument. However, I suspect that a featured work for the bass written today would take a more modern approach and really emphasize the lower and deeper ranges of the instrument.
Sooo...overall, I did enjoy Bottesini's concerto. I just wish it featured a bit more of the lower range of the bass because -- as we all know -- it's all about the bass!
To select a piece to listen to this week, I ran a Google-search on “unsung classical music composers,” and the first hit was this article, “The 11 Most Underrated Composers in Classical Music,” from ClassicFM.com, HERE. From the article: “This list started life as 'The 10 most underrated composers in classical music', but then John Suchet played some Moritz Moszkowski in his weekday mornings show and said he hadn't heard of the composer. Shocked Classic FM listeners contacted John to say they couldn't believe he didn't know Moszkowski's work - and so we've added him to this list.” I’ve never heard of Moszkowski either, so I decided to listen to one of his piano concertos based on info in the ClassicalFM article; however, the article and its link is a bit misleading because it says this: “The brilliant young German pianist Joseph Moog recently recorded his (Moszkowski's) Piano Concerto” -- specifying a singular "piano concerto." The link in the post took me HERE where another article states, “The piano concerto by Moritz Moszkowski is an unjustly forgotten work” -- again, specifying a singular "piano concerto." However, when I ran a search on the "piano concerto” by Moritz Moszkowski, I discovered that he had actually written TWO of them, not one. I decided to listen to the one in E Major, the Piano Concerto No. 2, because that was the one mentioned in the article concerning Joseph Moog’s recording. I did find the recording by Moog on YouTube; however, it was not uploaded as a single video. Instead, the individual movements are posted independently: For now, I've listened to the concerto once, and I plan to listen to it at least one more time before posting my comments and overall rating -- so I'll try to have those up soon!
UPDATE 1: Woodwinds and strings open the concerto with a four-bar theme before the piano takes off with a multi-octave run. The piano then picks up the opening theme and expands it. As the movement continues, the main theme and comparable variations weave between the orchestra and the piano with little to no rest for the pianist. The sound is so expressive and lush, it begged a type of chicken-or-egg question: Who came first, Rachmaninoff or Moszkowski? Well, it turns out that Moszkowski wrote this, his second piano concerto, in 1898, and Rachmaninoff composed his Piano Concerto No. 2 between 1900 and 1901. Moszkowski composed his first piano concerto in 1874, and Rachmaninoff wrote his in 1891. To be honest, I even heard hints of Grieg in Moszkowski’s concerto, and Grieg composed his Piano Concerto in A Minor in 1868. Well, I don’t know whether or not classical music historians would say that Moszkowski influenced Rachmaninoff or that Rachmaninoff and Grieg influenced Moszkowski, but all were most certainly men of their times, and all were motivated, shaped and swayed by the musical qualities and styles of the Romantic era. By the way, when I was looking up the dates for the Grieg, Rachmaninoff, and Moszkowski piano concertos, I stumbled upon this bit of information (HERE): “The disappearance for years of the composer's Piano Concerto No.1 led to the mistaken conjecture that "Piano Concerto No.2" was a reference either to a lost "piano concerto no.1" or (as with other composers, e.g. Ferdinand Ries) labeling his violin concerto as "Concerto No.1" and continuing his piano concerto as "Concerto No.2". With the rediscovery of his Piano Concerto in B minor, Op.3 (mentioned after all in Moszkowski's autobiography and elsewhere), its reconstruction and first recording, the use of "No.2" for Op.59 is no longer such a mystery.” Written in 1874, Moszkowski’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in B Minor was lost and only rediscovered in 2011 and published in 2013; hence the confusing use of the singular “piano concerto” in the ClassicFM article I mentioned above. Anyway, back to the first movement of Moszkowski’s Piano Concerto No. 2, a composition characterized by non-stop brilliance on the part of the pianist. There are three or four bars of rest here and there while the orchestra advances the piece, but other than that, the pianist rarely gets a dotted-eighth note time to rest in the piece as the work races on. About ten minutes in, though, the movement slows a bit, marked “tempo calmato (i.e. a calmer tempo), and it includes dynamics such as “molto calmato,” “espressivo,” and “tranquillo.” It doesn’t take long, though, before a final “allegro animato” section with a crescendo “quanto possibile” (as much as possible) has the piano flying once again to the movement’s rousing conclusion. The second movement opens with soft pizzicato notes from the woodwinds and strings, and this passage provides almost a sneaky mood to the piece. Soon, the piano joins in “con duolo” (with grief). The orchestra then moves to a variation on the opening theme as the piano plays triplet sixteenth notes “leggiero e staccato” (light and detached) above more pizzicato strings. This synergetic relationship between the piano and orchestra provides a sweet but forlorn lament. Finally, a concluding passage marked “pochissimo ritard” – with no delay – takes us to the vivace (i.e., lively) scherzo, the third movement of the concerto. “Attacca” (i.e., “Attack”) wrote Moszkowski at the start of the third movement, and the pianist does just that with nary a moment to rest. The piece takes off as the orchestra and piano weave in and out of a brisk and vivacious theme. Things do calm down a bit in a legato section that calls to mind themes from the opening movement, only to have the piano take off again in a sprint to a final section marked “ancora più presto” (i.e., even faster) in a race to the end. Oh, if only Moszkowski had ended the piece there. But no. There’s still the fourth movement, marked “Allegro deciso” (firmly cheerful). **sigh** I loved the concerto up to this point, and to be honest, there’s nothing specifically unpleasant about the final movement – except to me, it has too much of a cheerful Broadway air to it – as if Shirley Jones were about to step onto the Oklahoma prairie to sing about a beautiful morning. Of course, the piece doesn’t actually sound like “Oh What a Beautiful Morning,” but to me it has that saccharine-y, mawkish feel to it. Take a listen to the piece yourself. Am I wrong? Am I being too hyper-critical? Oh, there are some sections of the movement that fit a little better with the overall feel of the concerto, but the sunshiny passages just make think that the sun is going to come out tomorrow and orphans everywhere are going to be decidedly cheerful (i.e., “allegro deciso”). With about thirty-eight bars left in the work, the orchestra and the piano replay the opening theme from the first movement forcefully and magnificently to bring the work to a close. I suppose I would have been okay with this if Moszkowski had just tacked that onto the end of the third movement (although it really isn't needed); however, concerning most of the fourth movement – I could have done without it. My rating for the work? Well, this is a first: I'm going to give this concerto two separate ratings. I loved the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd movements -- so they rated "Green." The 4th movement rated "Blue."
Back in December 2020, I listened to and commented on Fanny Mendelssohn's "Overture in C," HERE. Truth be told, though, there just aren't many pieces by women composers that I can name -- so I ran a Google-search on "classical music by women," and I found this list, "21 of the Greatest Women Composers in Classical Music," HERE. When I opened that article, I glanced through it and then decided to listen to a work by the woman listed in the 21st spot -- Phamie Gow -- so that I could hear (a) something by a female composer and (b) a contemporary work. The article mentioned "War Song," so I decided to listen to that. Since the work is under four minutes long, I thought I would try another work as well, and that's how I chose Ethel Smyth's "The March of the Women": when I scrolled back through the article of 21 female composers (from the bottom to the top), Ethel Smyth at number 14 on the list was the first composer from the end of the list who was no longer alive. Therefore "The March of the Women" would provide both a classical work by a woman composer as well as a piece from history as Smyth's march became the anthem of suffragettes at the turn of the twentieth century. I'll post my comments and ratings on these two works later this week so be sure to check back -- and since Smyth's march is also just over three minutes, I have one other piece by a woman which I'll mention at the bottom of the post! : ) UPDATE: First I listened to Phamie Gow's "War Song" because -- as stated above -- that was where I fist landed after reviewing the article on 21 women composers. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, but "War Song" was nothing at all what I thought I would hear. I suppose I anticipated a song for full orchestra with some sort of martial tune featuring brass and drums -- lots of brass and drums -- and "War Song" was nothing of the sort. It was a gentle piece for the piano with mellifluous melodies, airy harmonies, and gentle grace notes. It reminded me a lot of tunes I've heard before by George Winston, and -- since it was called "War Song" -- it called to mind "Ashokan Farewell," a song composed by the American folk musician Jay Ungar. For many years "Ashokan Farewell" served as a goodnight or farewell waltz at the annual Ashokan Fiddle & Dance Camps run by Ungar and his wife Molly Mason at the Ashokan Field Campus of SUNY New Paltz in Upstate New York. However, it was also used as the main title them for the 1990 PBS miniseries "The Civil War" by Ken Burns. Despite the song's date of composition -- 1982 -- it has a definite old-timey feel to it, so it was included in the PBS series and its 1991 companion album "Songs of the Civil War." Listen to "Ashokan Farewell" HERE. Some music historians have noted similarities between Ungar's work and Stephen Foster's song, "Massa's in the Cold Cold Ground," written in 1852, so some have speculated that that might have been the reason why Burns included a contemporary song in his series and on an album about the Civil War. Most YouTube videos of Forster's work included the song's very racist lyrics; however, I did find one of the piece played on acoustic guitar -- HERE -- so you can listen (without the awful lyrics) and compare Foster's melody to Ungar's "Ashokan Farewell." So back to Phamie Gow's "War Song." Was she purposefully making reference to works like Ungar's and/or similar songs by Stephen Foster? Was she alluding to a certain war -- or just any war? Was she touching on war from a women's point of view? Or perhaps is the song alluding to some sort of post-war perspective?
I did enjoy the piece. It is pleasant, although it is short and very much like an "easy listening" tune. Because Gow's work was so short, I thought that I would also listen to Ethel Smyth's "The March of the Women," and again, it was not quite what I expected. Oh, it is a stirring piece, and it certainly works as a rousing anthem and call to battle for suffragettes -- but I expected something more traditional in the way of form.
"The March of the Women" is a nice enough tune -- supposedly based on a melody of a traditional tune Smyth had heard in Italy -- but there is no other development, expansion or augmentation. Just the one tune. As Jerry Seinfeld might say, "not that there's anything wrong with that." One other bonus work: I heard classical WQXR mention Charlotte Blake on International Women's Day, so I looked her up, and I listened to "Gravel Rag." It's a very fun piece, and I bet it's even more fun to play! You can listen to it on piano, HERE, and as an instrumental piece HERE. For information on Charlotte Blake and a list of her compositions, click HERE.
|
A New Hope:As the header above says, each week I will listen to a piece of classical music that I've never heard before, and then I will report out what I thought about it. Archives
September 2023
Categories
All
|