By Warren Cohen

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Igor Stravinsky: Pulcinella Suite

 

One of the odd consequences of the First World War and the fall of European empires was the evaporation of resources for musical gigantism. Concert halls, impresarios and composers had to create music using smaller ensembles. So it was that Sergei Diaghilev, the man responsible for Stravinsky composing the huge scores of The Firebird, Petrushka, and The Rite of Spring, asked the composer to write a ballet based on 18th century chamber music using a small orchestra. Diaghilev showed Stravinsky a collection of scores supposedly by Giovanni Battista Pergolesi -- as it turns out, most were by other composers. Stravinsky, smitten with these tunes, began his 30-year dalliance with what was later called his “neo-classical” style.

 

The most remarkable feature of this score is that it sounds so much like Stravinsky, yet the composer changed very little of the source material. The tunes are presented complete and unaltered, and the basic harmonies are usually not the same. Yet Diaghilev was shocked at how different the music sounded from the originals. The secret? Stravinsky filled in the harmonies in a distinctive way, and his choice of instruments and register made everything sound modern. Because Pulcinella is so much better known today than the source material, when a modern listener hears the originals -- especially the delightful trio sonatas by Domenico Gallo, which give us about half the music of the ballet -- it is impossible not to hear Stravinsky in it.

 

The music is charming and witty, for the most part “light-hearted” rather than overtly funny. Parts are unquestionably deliberately humorous, and the original ballet has comedic twists and turns. One of Stravinsky's favorite compositions, it was the last work he conducted at his final concert, with the Toronto Symphony in 1967.

 

Sergei Prokofiev: Symphony no. 1 “Classical”

 

Prokofiev's “Classical” Symphony predates Stravinsky's Pulcinella, which is generally thought to be the first neo-classical work. But Prokofiev's style, even here, was far from the neo-classicism of Stravinsky. Stravinsky's neo-classicism could more accurately be called neo-Baroque, using figurations and sounds from the music of the early 18th century, while Prokofiev's model is the late symphonies of Joseph Haydn, written in the 1790s.  While studying Haydn symphonies in his conducting class with Nikolai Tcherepnin, Prokofiev thought it would be fun to write a work with a Haydnesque feel but a somewhat modern sound. He was also attracted to Haydn's wit and humor; Prokofiev is one of the few composers with anything like Haydn's gift for writing funny music.

The symphony is indeed humorous. A 15-year-old Leonard Bernstein laughed out loud the first time he heard it, before he had even heard of Prokofiev. It is far too familiar a work today to elicit that response, but it is certainly easy to hear why Bernstein thought it so funny. Prokofiev repeatedly sets the listener up to expect a certain musical solution, then pulls the rug out and goes in a different direction. He does this so seamlessly and perfectly that the results are never contrived, but if you listen as if you had never heard the piece before, you will realize how startling they are. To be fair, he learned many of the tricks from the Haydn scores he was studying. The size of the orchestra is the same as Haydn used for his last six symphonies; the form, of the first and last movements especially, follows exactly the classical pattern,;and the transparency of the scoring is clearly a tribute to his model. But the tunes themselves sound very much like Prokofiev in a sunny mood, and the key changes and virtuosity required to play this score are the composer at his most typical.

 

Joseph Haydn: Symphony no. 60, Il Distratto

 

The conductor Kenneth Woods once made a rather long list of his favorite symphonies in C major, and this symphony was in the top five. He described it as “possibly the funniest and most modern symphony ever written. ”Given that his all-time favorite list included Sibelius’s 7th Symphony and Shostakovich’s Leningrad Symphony, that is an incredible statement. “Haydn uses most of the 20th century ‘isms’ in this piece -- surrealism, absurdism, modernism, poly-stylism, and hops effortlessly between tightly integrated symphonic argument and rapid-fire cinematic jump-cutting. This is Haydn at his absolute boldest -- he undermines every expectation, and re-examines every possible assumption about music,” Woods noted.

 

Placing this astonishing work in juxtaposition to the Prokofiev is fascinating, precisely because Haydn employs all the “modern” devices that Prokofiev uses: irregular phrases, sudden changes of key, humorous chattering over a pretty tune, the juxtaposition of different registers of music. There are so many surprises, some of the laugh out loud type, many of the “how did he think of that?” type, and some incredibly charming music.

 

The work began as the incidental music for a play called Il Distratto, the “absent-minded man”. The play is a comedy about a fellow who is so absent-minded he forgets to show up at his own wedding. His absent-mindedness causes numerous other problems, and the music underscored them so brilliantly that Haydn was persuaded to turn the music into a symphony. It is unusual  from the start, in that it is in six movements instead of the usual four. The jokes start almost immediately; the first theme is unsure whether it is in 6/8 or 3/4 time. The music drifts off into nothingness for no good reason, only to be suddenly dragged back in -- in the middle of phrase! Each movement is a masterpiece of ridiculous juxtaposition, but Haydn leaves the best and silliest joke -- one that no one could miss – until near the end of the piece.

 

It is wonderful to have the chance to play these three delightful masterpieces in one program. Hearing them in context with each other they make for a truly extraordinary meal of great music that is enhanced by their interconnectedness.

 

Mozart: Overture to the Magic Flute

 

With this piece, we welcome as our guest conductor Nicholas Edwards, who is beginning a master’s program in composition that will include studies in conducting. He and his mother won an auction at our gala last year for the opportunity to lead the orchestra.

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For the last several years of his life, Mozart was an active Mason, regularly attending meetings of the Masonic Temple and encouraging others (including his father and Joseph Haydn) to become Masons. The Magic Flute is his most extended work to reference Masonic elements, and they start with the opening passage of the Overture: a rhythmic figure that suggests knocking at the door, repeated three times. This ritualistic knocking on the door is the first thing a person does when they want to become a Mason, and it suggests the entire work will be seeped in Masonic imagery.

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After this introduction, the allegro section begins with a fast-moving theme that Mozart “borrowed” from Muzio Clementi. This phrase was the opening of a sonata that Clementi played at a musical contest between the two composers in 1784, when Mozart was initiated into a Masonic order. The use of this tune suggests that Mozart was trying to emulate the Masonic virtues of acceptance and high-mindedness, to overcome the vicious jealousy that he had displayed toward Clementi. (No clear winner of the contest was determined. Mozart was deemed the more expressive player, but Clementi was clearly the technically superior performer. Mozart, not used to being bested at anything, wrote a series of catty letters to his father and sister that make it clear he was not happy).

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What links this work with the others on the program is that, despite some dark moments, it is ultimately a light work. It is not an opera (although often described as such) but rather a “singspiel,” an 18th century German version of musical comedy with spoken dialogue rather than recitatives, lots of jokes, and happy endings. The overture is cheerful and light-hearted, as Mozart extends the “Clementi tune” with an extended contrapuntal treatment (something very much in the spirit of Masonic preferences) and brings the music to a brilliant close.

 

 

 

MusicaNova Orchestra

Violin I

Julian Nguyen, concertmaster

    John & Elizabeth McKinnon chair

Priscilla Benitez

Dasom Jeon

Linda Quintero

Jamie Wu

Danny Yang

 

Violin II

Luke Hill, principal

   Robert Dixon chair

Lisa Eisenberg

Jamilyn Richardson

Rebecca Rosmanitz

Grace Wills

Esther Witherell

 

Viola

Mason Haskett

   Domenique van de Stadt & Octavio Parajo chair

Vanessa Bisaha

Elizabeth Hanson

Jill Osborne

   David & Dory Mawyer chair

Carolyn Snyder

 

Cello

   Ed & Cynthia DuBrow section

Maria Simiz, principal

Gina Choe

Jennifer Cox

Cindy Leger

 

Bass

Nathan Benitez, principal

Alberto Allende

 

Flute

Lisa Tharp Friedeman, principal

   Caroyln Whitaker chair

Nancy Sowers

 

Oboe

Nick Flickinger, principal

   Nina Gurin memorial chair

Hannah Selznick

   Marj Sherman chair

 

Clarinet

Timothy Haas, principal

   Robert Leger chair

Anthony Masiello

 

Bassoon

Melanie Sanguinetti, principal

John Friedeman

 

French horn

Martha Edwards, principal

Gail Rittenhouse

 

Trumpet

Chris Albrecht, principal

Stephen Martin

 

Trombone

Brad Edwards

 

Percussion

Sonja Branch

   Blair & Pat Snyder chair