Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:
— Introibo ad altare Dei.
James Joyce, Ulysses
The first voice we hear in James Joyce’sUlysses is that of Buck Mulligan (the fictional counterpart to the author’s onetime friend, Oliver St. John Gogarty), gleefully singing the Gregorian chant of the Roman Catholic Mass from atop Dublin’s Martello Tower (left), in an attempt to rouse his sullen fellow lodger, Stephen Dedalus (Joyce’s literary stand-in and the hero of his previous novel, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man). This is the first time music appears in this vast, rambling, and wonderful book, but far from the last. As much as any of the arts and sciences that contribute to the colors and textures of Ulysses, music is a highly significant element and one which should be studied closely. Certainly, specialists in literature and average readers alike know that Ulysses is one of the greatest literary phenomena of the 20th century, as well as a prominent title on lists of banned books, the subject of major plays and films, the generator of a vast scholarly industry, and the steady holder of the #1 spot in the Modern Library’s 100 Best Novels list. Yet few music lovers seem aware that Ulysses is one of the most profoundly musical of the great books, even though music is neither the primary subject nor always apparent in the story.
The influence of Franz Joseph Haydn in the Classical era and beyond should not be underestimated. To many, he perfected the structure of the sonata, the symphony, and the string quartet, laying the foundations for nearly all subsequent composers who write in those forms. He lived a long and productive life, seeing his own fame and the appreciation of his talents spread throughout Europe. Haydn died on May 31, 1809, in his sleep, at his home in Vienna.
Both Vienna and Hungary are celebrating the Haydn anniversary with special events, exhibitions, and tours. For information, click here and here. The BBC has collected a few factoids and anecdotes about Haydn, also.
In the meanwhile, here are a few of our editors’ choices for listening to Haydn:
Haydn: Symphonies Nos. 31 “Hornsignal” & 45 “Farewell” Haydn’s Symphony No. 31 is known as the “Hornsignal” from its prominent horn parts in the first and last movements. Written in anticipation of palace-warming festivities at the Eszterháza estate, the symphony has a celebratory air in its bold fanfares and hunting calls. Haydn’s originality is evident not only in his clever motivic development of these ideas, but also in his placement of the horn pairs at a distance from each other. Haydn’s experimentation was unusual for its time, but it shows some of the freedom he enjoyed as Prince Nicholas’ court composer. The Symphony No. 45, dubbed “Farewell” from the musicians’ calculated exits in the closing Adagio, is darker in tone than the previous work. Influenced by the Sturm und Drang movement of the mid-18th century — the first flowering of what would later become Romanticism — the symphony is melancholy and more dramatic than might be expected from Haydn’s usually sunny output. Sir Charles Mackerras has achieved a pleasant compromise between conventional and historical approaches in playing these Classical works. Read the rest of the review here.
Haydn: The “Paris” Symphonies, Nos. 82-87 Over many decades, founder Nikolaus Harnoncourt and the early music ensemble Concentus Musicus Wien have maintained an exemplary musical relationship that has yielded wonderful results in the Baroque and Classical fields, particularly in their strongly characterized and idiomatic performances of music by Mozart and Haydn. This triple-disc collection of Haydn’s marvelous “Paris” Symphonies, Nos. 82-87, is topnotch, for it displays the musicians’ high standards in all aspects of historical scholarship and period performance practice, and offers interpretations that are admirable for their freshness, good humor, and zest. Read the rest of the review here.
Haydn: Symphonies 68, 93-104 Nikolaus Harnoncourt and the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra have a knack for delivering something with which many other orchestras and conductors struggle. That is, to produce a box set that has the ability to maintain a listener’s interest from disc one to, in this case, disc five. Like their cycle of the Mozart and Schubert symphonies, this set of the late Haydn symphonies is a treat from start to finish. Although Haydn’s symphonies do not display the dramatic changes from one symphony to the next that a listener might expect when listening to a cycle of the Beethoven or Mahler symphonies, Harnoncourt and the RCO play with ample exuberance, energy, and minute attention to detail so as to make every note and phrase as fresh as the last. Read the rest of the review here.
Haydn: Violoncello Concertos in C and D major Collectors and neophytes will both delight in this recording of the two Haydn cello concertos by cellist Pieter Wispelwey joined by the period instrument ensemble Florilegium. To call these performances energetic would be grossly understating the charisma, verve, and dynamism that are imbued into these popular works. Wispelwey’s execution is graceful and seemingly effortless. The third movement of the C major concerto is incredibly fast and exciting; the lightness of the period instruments makes it sound all the more shimmering and exhilarating. Read the rest of the review here.
Haydn: String Quartets Op. 33 Nos. 3, 5 & 6 In their survey of Haydn’s string quartets for ASV, the Lindsays have set about the business of restoring these Classical masterpieces to their proper place in the repertoire, with all their brilliant wit and brusqueness intact, and without undue sweetening or romanticizing. The point, it seems clear, is to bring Haydn out from under the familiar shadows of Mozart and Beethoven, and to render his quartets as the true models of quartet writing, not as light Rococo divertissements or tamer antecedents of greater works. The Lindsays are sharp in their characterizations of Op. 33, Nos. 3, 5, and 6, and their lean textures, crisp articulation, transparent repartee, and pungent attacks distinguish these performances from more commercially pretty or polished versions. Read the rest of the review here.
Haydn: String Quartets, Opp. 64/5 “Lark”, 76/2 “Fifths”, 77/1 “Lobkowitz” Haydn is often referred to as the Father of the String Quartet, and rightfully so. When he began composing his first complete sets of string quartets in 1771, he was already a master of the form without equal and even his early examples in the genre demonstrate an unequaled maturity and sophistication in the new form. Twenty years later, Haydn was still highly active composing quartets, and the final sets that he composed in the 1790s are stunning examples of how Haydn brought the string quartet in terms of depth of melody, independence of parts, and command of texture. The three quartets heard on this Harmonia Mundi disc are some of the most popular and often performed works of this later period. The relatively young Jerusalem Quartet (founded in 1993) gives listeners an exemplary performance worthy of any collection. Gone are the days when Haydn was treated like a delicate, fragile flower. The members of the Jerusalem Quartet play with remarkable intensity and a big, meaty sound. Read the rest of the review here.
Joseph Haydn: Five Keyboard Sonatas on a Schanz Fortepiano There is nothing not to like about this disc of Haydn sonatas from Malcolm Bilson. The keyboard music of Haydn is often ignored, in favor of that of Mozart and Beethoven, but the works here demonstrate that Haydn was the master of the sonata form, using the same structural principles even in some of the slow movements. Bilson begins his program with the Sonata in C major, Hob. 16:50, one of Haydn’s best. It transcends the bounds of melody and accompaniment to use both hands more equally, more like how Haydn would use different orchestra sections to complement each other. The other sonatas here are less sophisticated technically, obviously meant for students. Their appeal lies in the directness of feeling, with emotions that are easy for students to express and in which expert performers such as Bilson can find greater depth. Read the rest of the review here.
For most of the early years of the LP, it was easy to distinguish classical albums from pop and rock albums with a quick glance at the cover art. There was stylistic diversity in classical cover art, but a recognizable graphic syntax served as a code that was understood virtually universally: this is serious music; if that’s not what you’re looking for, move on. The cover art for “popular” music, on the other hand, often using whimsical or sexual or just plain weird visuals to grab the shopper’s attention, tended to telegraph a more inviting, inclusive message: if you’re looking for good times, look no further!
Recorder virtuoso Michala Petri is a long established phenomenon in the classical music world, and as a performer she is quite astounding. While the average enthusiast would be happy to get a decent tune out of the recorder, Petri can pull off ripping glissandi that can make one’s hair stand on end or find shades of dynamics on the instrument one would not think possible. While many of the classical music ingenues who first appeared circa 1980 have moved on to other pursuits, Michala Petri remains busier than ever. In recent years, she and her husband, classical guitar virtuoso Lars Hannibal, have been running a label called OUR Recordings, which has swiftly established itself as one of the world’s premier artist-led recording concerns. Petri and Hannibal travel the world as a performing duo, and in China, Hannibal discovered Chen Yue, who is to Chinese bamboo flutes what Petri is to the European, wooden variety. To record Chen Yue and Michala Petri together, an entire repertoire had to be created, as there was no standing literature combining recorder and Xiao or Dizi. Nevertheless, the association has thus far produced two outstanding discs, Spirits and Dialogue. In our dialogue with Michala Petri, AMG’s Uncle Dave Lewis spoke with Michala Petri and Chen Yue via phone from Denmark.
Dmitry Shostakovich: Symphony No. 4
Bernard Haitink; Chicago Symphony Orchestra The last of Dmitry Shostakovich’s youthful, experimental symphonies, the Symphony No. 4 (1935-1936) marked a critical turning point, for its modernist tendencies provoked a hostile article in Pravda, thought to have been written by Stalin himself to intimidate the composer. Because of this rebuke, the symphony was withdrawn from performance and not played again until 1961, so due to its comparatively late absorption in the repertoire, it is one of the least played of Shostakovich’s symphonies. Yet this is one of his most gripping scores, full of volatile expressions and memorable ideas, and its expansive form, caustic themes, complex developments, and wide emotional range make it comparable in many ways to the symphonies of Gustav Mahler, on which it was partly modeled. Read the rest of the reviewby Blair Sanderson
Bernard Haitink, cond. - Dmitry Shostakovich: Symphony No. 4, 1. Allegro poco moderato
Hector Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique
Gustavo Dudamel; Los Angeles Philharmonic An international sensation and instant star in Deutsche Grammophon’s stable while only in his 20s, Gustavo Dudamel won kudos worldwide for his extraordinary musicality, wide expressive range, astute technical mastery, and acute perception of what works in a score, and he has brought great vitality and excitement to his performances of the Romantic symphonic repertoire. His 2007 release of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 with the Simón Bolivar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela brought critical praise, and his live follow-up with Hector Berlioz’sSymphonie fantastique with the Los Angeles Philharmonic is sure to do the same. What both recordings reveal is Dudamel’s amazing ability to reshape whole passages of overly familiar music into fluid and seemingly spontaneous renderings that sound almost like re-creations and make listeners really think about what they’re hearing. You may not always agree with Dudamel}’s choices, and his handling of the music may at times seem a bit too calculated, but once you are caught up in a performance, you are compelled to pay attention to everything this conductor does. Read the rest of the reviewby Blair Sanderson
Josef Suk: Symphony in C minor, “Asrael”
Vladimir Ashkenazy; Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra Along with the increasing frequency that Josef Suk’sSymphony in C minor, Op. 27, “Asrael,” is performed and recorded, it’s great to see it has finally been released as a hybrid SACD. Though the legendary 1952 recording by Vaclav Talich remains the ne plus ultra for devotees of this searing symphonic requiem, it was recorded in mono, and by virtue of its technology has become a historical document that will be sought out mostly by aficionados. Newcomers to Suk’s towering work will be aided in appreciation by the fact that Ondine’s DSD recording is as clear and deep as always, and none of the details of the elaborate score are lost. Whether Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 2008 interpretation seems as hard-earned and profound as Talich’s is another matter, for the two conductors’ approaches are different: Talich was steeped in the Czech tradition, while Ashkenazy has always been more cosmopolitan in outlook, so there are clear differences in phrasing, rhythmic emphasis, orchestral sonority, as well as nuances of expression. Read the rest of the reviewby Blair Sanderson
Anton Bruckner: Symphony No. 5 in B flat major
Benjamin Zander; Philharmonia Orchestra of London In the 1990s, Benjamin Zander achieved a high degree of fame through a series of recordings he made of Gustav Mahler’s symphonies for Telarc, which combined elegant performances with bonus discs featuring the conductor’s enlightened commentary. This 2009 release of Anton Bruckner’sSymphony No. 5 in B flat major follows suit and delivers a remarkably clear and cogent reading of Bruckner’s most skillfully wrought symphony, along with a moving account of how Zander came to conduct this work so late in his career. One has to respect Zander’s intelligence in analyzing the symphony and sincerity of his views on the work’s deeper meanings, but it may be a stretch for some listeners to buy the programmatic explication he gives for particular themes, sections, and the overall structure of the work. Included in the package is a diagram of the symphony’s form, laid out like the floor plan of a cathedral, obviously tying into the work’s unofficial nickname, “Church of Faith,” an appellation Bruckner did not give the work. From this, it seems Zander extrapolates certain meanings behind the tonal scheme of the expanded sonata form, the inter-connectedness of thematic shapes, and the spiritual dimensions of Bruckner}’s work, all explained with lucidity and conviction. Yet another view of this work is that it, like all the rest of Bruckner’s symphonic output, is pure music, and that the religious and spiritual ramifications people are so eager to find in it are not necessary for appreciation. Read the rest of the review by Blair Sanderson
J.S. Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier
Angela Hewitt Acclaimed as one of the most creative and thoughtful performers of J.S. Bach’s keyboard music since the innovative performances of her compatriot, Glenn Gould, Canadian pianist Angela Hewitt has certainly matched her usual exquisite playing in this 2008 set of The Well-Tempered Clavier, an anticipated follow-up to the 2007 reissue of her 1997 recordings. Having both sets would be ideal for Hewitt fans, but for listeners who can choose only one, either is an excellent option and sure not to disappoint. While no one should expect vast differences in her interpretations here, which are rich in the variety of tone colors, moods, and nuances, Hewitt’s maturing appreciation of Bach is not a radical overhaul, though there are necessarily changes in the particulars of accentuation, phrasing, dynamics, and emphasis due to the passage of time, as well as to the spontaneity of Hewitt’s expression and the fluidity of the moment. Read the rest of the reviewby Blair Sanderson
Smile
Anne Akiko Meyers Violinist Anne Akiko Meyers’ Koch release Smile continues, to some extent, from her previous Avie issue Birds in Warped Time in that she is attempting to expand beyond the constraints of typical classical CD programming — combining a couple of big works, or collecting a bunch of little ones, “encores” — into something more imaginative and more in keeping with her own taste and personality. With that, Meyers has invested some measure of muscle into developing repertoire that fits her generous, yet transparent tone with the same degree of comfort as one of her designer-made concert gowns. Here we have an arrangement of the Japanese melody “Kojo No Tsuki,” made by Meyers herself in collaboration with Shigaeki Saegusa, for solo violin. With all apologies due to accompanist Akira Eguchi, this solo violin track is one of the loveliest things that Meyers has ever done. Read the rest of the reviewby Uncle Dave Lewis
Lincolnshire Posy: Music for Band by Percy Grainger
Jerry Junkin & The Dallas Wind Symphony Percy Grainger was best known during his lifetime as a virtuoso concert pianist and educator, but a major factor in reviving his work as a composer from its long eclipse was his interest in wind ensembles; Grainger’s Lincolnshire Posy (1938), probably more that any other, single band work became both touchstone and litmus test for symphonic bands and literature as these forms evolved in the latter half of the twentieth century. Jerry Junkin and the Dallas Wind Symphony remains one of only a few fully professional non-collegiate, non-military symphonic bands in the United States, and they do not take lightly the prospect of their all-Grainger disc, Lincolnshire Posy: Music for Band by Percy Grainger, for Reference Recordings. Their stated intent is to “set a new standard for Percy Grainger’s music,” partly through making an effort to connect with some musical instruments that Grainger utilized that have gone obsolete, and also in examining some of the many options he makes for instruments owing to his preference for “elastic scoring,” where a single piece can be realized by varying instruments, given the situation. Read the rest of the reviewby Uncle Dave Lewis
Journey to the New World
Sharon Isbin The very early history of the folk music revival in America is peopled to some extent by classical musicians such as Ruth Crawford Seeger (Pete’s step-mom) and Suzanne Bloch who acted as midwives, expert collectors of past folk material, sources of repertoire, and even as performers when there was no folk movement as such. Once the folk revival got going, however, the movement necessarily took its own direction, reaching out to the young, with some artists pursuing a distinct political agenda and all getting as far away from “art music” as they could. Although Peter, Paul & Mary have long moved out of the coffee houses and into the concert halls, the estrangement of American folk music — as it was practiced in the 1950s and ’60s — and art music has more or less continued since, however, in her Sony Classical disc Journey to the New World, classical guitarist Sharon Isbin brings it all back together in a very beautiful way. Read the rest of the reviewby Uncle Dave Lewis
Mark Grey: Enemy Slayer - A Navajo Oratorio
Scott Hendricks, Michael Christie & The Phoenix Symphony Orchestra & Chorus Advertised as “the first-ever oratorio to be founded on an indigenous creation story” — and it may well be so — Enemy Slayer - A Navajo Oratorio was commissioned from composer Mark Grey by the Phoenix Symphony as part of its longstanding effort to bring a little of the American Southwest into its concert halls and to bridge the gap between Native American and Western cultures. Grey’s fulfillment of his year-long tenure as the Phoenix Symphony’s composer in residence went well beyond the usual call of duty; a 70-minute oratorio for baritone soloists — Scott Hendricks, in this instance — full orchestra and a chorus of 140 voices. Enemy Slayer is based on a creation story of the Diné or, as familiarly known, Navajo people, and its libretto was written by the Diné poet Laura Tohe. Read the rest of the review by Uncle Dave Lewis
Vaet: Missa Ego flos campi
Cinquecento It’s certainly hard not to love this; for the first time since their first Hyperion disc, Music from the Court of Maximilian II,Cinquecento returns to the music of Jacobus Vaet for a full-disc serving, only the second this composer has ever enjoyed. Vaet, who worked in Germany and lived from c.1529-1567 only, has nine surviving mass settings, and one of these is the main event, ergo the album title Jacobus Vaet: Missa Ego flos campi. As this mass utilizes a melody of Vaet’s master, Jacob Clemens non Papa, the motet from which it is taken is included as one bookend to Vaet’s mass, and the other is supplied in a glorious motet, Antivenis varides, written in honor of Duke Albrecht of Bavaria. Filling out the program is a Magnificat, a short Miserere,Salve Regina, and four additional motets. Read the rest of the reviewby Uncle Dave Lewis
Marc-Antoine Charpentier: Songs of Love and Loss
Jolle Greenleaf & Hank Heijink For this recital of music by Marc-Antoine Charpentier, soprano Jolle Greenleaf and theorbo player Hank Heijink have chosen an exceptionally attractive selection of pastoral songs that deal with the joys and disappointments of love. These songs are over 300 years old, but they have a communicative directness, elegance, and musical and emotional subtlety that make them immediately engaging. Each is a little gem, but the chaconne, “Sans frayeur dans ce bois,” is particularly memorable, a simply drop-dead gorgeous example of Charpentier’s gift for appealing melody, and imaginative text setting. Greenleaf has the high, gleaming soprano that this repertoire requires. Her tone is pure, fully rounded and warm over its complete range, even into the highest reaches, and she sings with a luscious, velvety legato. She also has a sure grasp of the subtleties of mid-Baroque ornamentation and vocal production, and the discipline and agility to put the music across with both finesse and unmannered naturalness. Read the rest of the reviewby Stephen Eddins
Monteverdi: Teatro d’Amore
Christina Pluhar & L’Arpeggiata A warning to purists: there’s little in the packaging of this CD to indicate the interpretive freedom with which the ensemble, l’Arpeggiata, led by Christina Pluhar, treats some of the Monteverdi love songs and madrigals on the album. There’s a hint in the opening track, the toccata from Orfeo, in its wonderfully reckless abandon and prominent use of percussion. In Ohimè ch’io cado, the solo madrigal that follows it, the continuo part is transmogrified into a walking bass, the rhythm is swung, blue notes abound, and the Baroque trumpet launches into frankly jazzy riffs between verses. We’re clearly no longer in the land of scrupulously authentic period performance practice. It’s followed by a traditional, but lusciously sensual performance of Pur ti miro, fromL’Incoronazione di Poppea, its accompaniment as direct and heartfelt as that of an Appalachian folk song, sung with a smoldering — no, scorching — erotic charge, by soprano Núria Rial and counter tenor Philippe Jaroussky. Read the rest of the reviewby Stephen Eddins
Pawel Lukaszewski :Via Crucis
Stephen Layton Polish composer Pawel Lukaszewski has created a virtual anomaly: a contemporary, large-scale liturgical work that could function equally as well as part of a traditional religious service and as a concert piece with the musical integrity and inspiration to appeal to broad audiences. Lukaszewski, though little known in the West, is clearly a composer to be reckoned with; his wide ranging imagination and formidable compositional technique have equipped him to write a stunningly dramatic Via Crucis (the Stations of the Cross), traditionally in 14 sections, but here with an added 15th station depicting the Resurrection. The rich variety of his choral writing, which draws on traditional polyphony as well as an array of contemporary techniques, allows him to vividly convey the high dramatic profile of the texts. Another striking element is the structural sophistication of his handling of this large scale text. Read the rest of the reviewby Stephen Eddins
Handel: Faramondo
Diego Fasolis, Max Emanuel Cencic, Philippe Jaroussky Until it was revived in the late 20th century, Handel’s opera, Faramondo, was performed just eight times in London in 1738 and then fell into obscurity. According to the conventions of Italian opera of the period, men’s roles were often written for women, in spite of the lack of dramatic realism, and the use of castrati was common, so higher voices strongly predominate. Handel wrote the title role, which would have gone to a castrato, usually a male alto, for Cafarelli, who had the range of a mezzo-soprano. This recording is exceptional in its use of countertenors in all the male roles, and it’s intriguing to hear together the variety of voice types lumped together as “counter tenors” — the singers here are distinctly males altos, mezzo-sopranos and sopranos. The early 21st century is blessed with an abundance of extraordinarily fine counter tenors, and the singers on this recording are exceptional, with voices of great tonal fullness and purity, agility and individuality. Read the rest of the reviewby Stephen Eddins
Puccini: Madama Butterfly
Angela Gheorghiu, Jonas Kaufmann, Antonio Pappano The most notable thing about this recording of Madama Butterfly is the conducting of Antonio Pappano. His reading emphasizes the opera’s dramatic intensity, and has a sinewy, sometimes brutal power that never lets the listener forget the cruelty and arrogance that are at its core. Pappano highlights the modernist elements in Puccini’s score — its harsh dissonances, sometime startling orchestration, and astonishing harmonically unresolved conclusion — that tend to be glossed over in more conventionally romantic performances. His approach throws the irony of the love scene into harsh relief, and makes Cio-Cio-San’s naïve devotion all the more poignant. The rhythmic fluidity that he brings to the score creates a terrific sense of spontaneity and vitality, and his attention to detail, such as having the strings subtly bend the tone in the pentatonic sections, creates a lovingly nuanced performance. Altogether, it’s a revelatory version of the opera. Having a uniformly outstanding cast and two stars at the top of their form also contributes hugely the recording’s impact. Read the rest of the reviewby Stephen Eddins
Brahms: Symphony No. 2
John Eliot Gardiner & Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique John Eliot Gardiner, the conductor more highly decorated by the recording industry than any other, returns for his second installment of his complete cycle of the Brahms symphonies. This disc includes the Second Symphony along with the lush Alto Rhapsody and three Schubert songs (two of which were arranged by Brahms). Gardiner’s argument to juxtapose vocal and symphonic works is sound; Brahms’ true compositional love was for the voice, and his symphonies reflect this in their frequent vocal, choral qualities. Like other recordings of Gardiner, an abundance of research preceded these Brahms performances. Read the rest of the reviewby Mike D. Brownell
Haydn: Symphonies Nos. 42, 49, 44
Arion While we may conceptually think of a symphony as a composition for a large number of musicians, such was not the case when Haydn, the so-called “Father of the Symphony,” composed the majority of is 104 symphonies. Rather, his symphonies were composed for the smaller number of musicians (generally no more than two to a part) that were available to him, usually at the Palace of Esterház. Many modern recordings of Haydn’s symphonies, even those incorporating period instruments, still use far greater forces than Haydn originally had at his disposal. This album by the Canadian early music ensemble Arion, led by the talented harpsichordist/fortepianist Gary Cooper, returns listeners to the time of Papa Haydn by using the proportions of instruments that Haydn himself would have used. Read the rest of the reviewby Mike D. Brownell
Italia 1600, Argentina 1900
Verónica Cangemi France’s Naïve label has overdone it this time with the electronica-like design for the cover of this release, which gives the buyer little idea of what he or she is going to hear. Even the title is not much help; most of the music does not come from Italy in the years around 1600 nor from Argentina around 1900, and the South American selections are more in the nature of punctuation of the program than the equivalent group the title implies. One might also note that the Spanish accent marks are pointing the wrong way in the track list. And there the list of complaints ends. This is a breathtaking vocal recital that, in its way, represents a landmark for the long incorporation of early music in the classical mainstream. The biggest news is that Argentine soprano Verónica Cangemi emerges as a major new talent, capable of handling perhaps the most devastatingly difficult of Vivaldi’s operatic arias, the storm aria “Come in vano il mare irato,” from Catone in Utica, track 2. But more intriguing is the diverse set of paths Cangemi takes as she approaches and departs from these centerpieces. Read the rest of the reviewby James Manheim
Impression
Katsuya Watanabe The oboe’s solo literature is not large, and the list of works represented on this recital disc by Japanese oboist Katsuya Watanabe may not look promising at first glance, with composers traditionally thought of as minor and an extended “morceau de salon” by the Czech early Romantic Johann Wenzel Kalliwoda Q 3188. All of it is written for the oboe rather than being arranged from other music, however, and in this resides its utter charm. These are “technical” pieces, written to display aspects of the oboe’s, and the oboist’s, capabilities, and Watanabe, taking that as a basis, treats the music with the utmost lyricism. The effect is unique. The program is carefully framed for maximum effect, with the 1955 Sonata for oboe and piano of William Alwyn immediately showing what Watanabe can do. Read the rest of the reviewby James Manheim
Boccherini: Trio, Quartet, Quintet & Sextet for Strings
Europa Galante This could be the best disc of Boccherini’s chamber music ever recorded. Whereas most ensembles seem to hold to the idea that Boccherini was a more charming but less profound Haydn,Europa Galante plays Boccherini like he’s a sophisticated composer who was a moody and mercurial master in his own right. Led by violinist Fabio Biondi, Europa Galante delivers performances of tremendous tonal beauty and revelatory soul. A portion of its success is attributable to the choice of repertoire. Instead of the lighter Boccherini fare, Biondi has picked a String Quintet in C minor, a String Sextet in F minor, and a String Quartet in C minor, and, as dessert, a String Trio in D major. Read the rest of the reviewby James Leonard
The violent Russian spring that seemed to begin in an hour and was like the whole earth cracking — that was the most wonderful event of every year of my childhood.
- Igor Stravinsky
Of all scandalous modern classical works — and there were many in the 20th century — Igor Stravinsky’s 1913 ballet, Le Sacre du printemps is undoubtedly the most ground-breaking and influential. (The English title, The Rite of Spring, is more accurately translated from French as The Consecration of Spring; it is subtitled, Tableaux de la Russie païenne or Pictures from Pagan Russia.) So bold and innovative were its explorations of complex metrical changes, polyrhythms, polytonality, and dissonance, it redefined what could be considered music. In one masterstroke, Stravinsky broke decisively with the past and opened new paths for composers who would follow, from George Antheil and his Ballet mécanique, to John Williams and his scores for Jaws and Star Wars. The furor over Le Sacre du printemps was a signal moment in 20th century modernism, and the work became a landmark of western music history. Yet as a few anecdotes of this ballet’s origin and reception suggest, its path to greatness was not straight and its success was far from assured.
Le Sacre du printemps was the third ballet Stravinsky composed for Sergei Diaghilev’s Ballet Russe, and was choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky, who had brilliantly danced the lead role in Stravinsky’s 1911 ballet, Petrushka. The creation of Le Sacre began with an idea of an ancient Russian fertility ritual, centered on the sacrifice of a young virgin who dances herself to death. Though Stravinsky later claimed the idea was his, it was actually the inspiration of the Russian artist, archaeologist, and folklorist, Nicholas Roerich. Stravinsky worked out the scenario for the two-act ballet with Roerich, who had created the sets for Alexander Borodin’s opera, Prince Igor, and went on to design the set for the original performance of Le Sacre (above, right).
Stravinsky began sketching Le Sacre in 1911 in Clarens, Switzerland, on a muted upright piano in a room that measured eight by eight feet. This is an important aspect of the work’s gestation, because many of its dissonances and percussive rhythms were derived from Stravinsky’s obsessive sounding of chords on the piano. For example, the famous “Augurs of Spring” chord (sampled below), an F flat major triad and an E flat dominant seventh played together and repeated almost 200 times, fits under the fingers naturally and has a deeply resonant quality when played at the keyboard. As he composed the orchestral score of Le Sacre, Stravinsky simultaneously worked on a four-hand piano arrangement, which was the public’s primary means of studying the work in its early years and is regarded today as a valid version. In June of 1912, Stravinsky and the French composer Claude Debussy (left) sight-read it together. Debussy commented that the music resembled “a beautiful nightmare.” Later, Stravinsky made two versions of Le Sacre for player piano.
After hearing the composer play Le Sacre on the piano, the conductor Pierre Monteux remarked, “The very walls resounded as Stravinsky pounded away, occasionally stamping his feet and jumping up and down to accentuate the force of the music. Not that it needed such emphasis.” Monteux gave the work its first performance, despite misgivings that it might cause a scandal.
The premiere at Paris’ Théâtre des Champs-Élysées on May 29, 1913 is remembered for the riot, which started shortly after the introductory bassoon melody. Beyond that, little of the music was heard. Yet even though tradition holds that the boos and hisses were triggered by the strange sounds coming from the orchestra, the fracas was apparently preplanned, because factions had formed before the event and were itching for a fight. While the music certainly was shocking, as were the dancers, whose movements were decidedly primitive, awkward, and not at all the refined pirouetting of conventional ballet, the mayhem erupted on ideological grounds. As Jean Cocteau (right) recalled, the dispute was between ” …the smart audience in tails and tulle, diamonds and ospreys, and the suits and bandeaux of the aesthetic crowd. The latter would applaud novelty simply to show their contempt for the people in the boxes.” Cocteau also related that the audience ridiculed the women dancers in their braids and primitive costumes as “knock-kneed Lolitas.”
The initial din of catcalls led to fisticuffs in the aisles, and the police arrived by intermission, only to restore a modicum of order. Stravinsky fled the audience, reportedly weeping, and went backstage to find Diaghilev switching the lights on and off, and Nijinsky standing on a chair, shouting numbers in Russian to the dancers, who could no longer hear the orchestra. Monteux was calm and collected as he conducted Le Sacre to the end, despite the maelstrom surrounding him.
Though the fiasco depressed Stravinsky and Nijinsky, Diaghilev was delighted with the chaos and claimed afterward that it was exactly what he wanted. However, critical reaction was predictably harsh, though it’s surprising to see how long after the premiere reviewers still took a negative view of the music. Below are some of the more notorious comments, selected from Nicholas Slonimsky’sLexicon of Musical Invective:
The most essential characteristic of Le Sacre du printemps is that it is the most dissonant and the most discordant composition yet written. Never was the system and the cult of the wrong note practiced with so much industry, zeal and fury.
- Pierre Lalo, Le Temps, Paris, June 3, 1913
The music of Le Sacre du printemps baffles verbal description. To say that much of it is hideous as sound is a mild description. There is certainly an impelling rhythm traceable. Practically it has no relation to music at all as most of us understand the word.
- Musical Times, London, August 1, 1913
One recalls the scandalous spectacle of this Sacre du printemps, or rather a “Massacre du printemps.” Never before had such a challenge been made to human ears.
- H. Moreno, Le Ménestrel, Paris, June 6, 1914
I’m not competent to discuss Le Sacre du printemps as I have heard it only on the piano. But assuming…that Stravinsky is mechanism become music…I don’t want it…I’m bored with imitations of noises…and their monotonous cacophony.
- Deems Taylor,The Dial, New York, September, 1920
Of course, Le Sacre went on to become a modern classic and ever more popular over the years, thanks to orchestral concerts, recordings, and performances choreographed by such major figures as Leonide Massine, Maurice Bejart,Kenneth MacMillan, Paul Taylor, Martha Graham, Mary Wigman, and Pina Bausch. It was also widely promoted by Walt Disney’s use of the score in the 1940 film, Fantasia. Yet even this was not free of controversy. At first, Stravinsky was flattered to learn that Le Sacre was to be animated, but he was less than thrilled to learn that sections had been reordered, and the prehistoric visuals of dinosaurs and volcanoes did little to please him. Add to this the irony that Deems Taylor, who had criticized Le Sacre in 1920, was called upon to provide a spoken introduction and narration in the film, though the introduction only appeared in the road show version and was later cut.
In 1987, the Joffrey Ballet (right) presented a restored Le Sacre, employing the set and costume designs by Roerich and the original choreography by Nijinsky, long thought lost. The ballet had only received eight performances before it was withdrawn, and because Diaghilev split with Nijinsky and had the 1920 production choreographed by Massine, the Nijinsky version was not seen for decades. But due to the efforts of director Robert Joffrey, dance historian Millicent Hodson, and her husband, art historian Kenneth Archer, the resurrected ballet was staged to critical acclaim, and in subsequent years was revived by the Paris Opéra and Kirov ballets.
The Joffrey Ballet’s complete reconstruction of Le Sacre du printemps is presented below.
No collection of anecdotes of Le Sacre du printemps would be complete without a recommendation of some important recordings. Below are several excellent renditions, though this list is far from exhaustive. While each offers a different understanding of Stravinsky’s masterpiece, and all will continue to be argued over by fans, there is never a last word on Le Sacre and no definitive reading. So take your pick!
Have fun sampling, and by all means make Le Sacre du printemps a staple of your listening, if you haven’t already. But don’t forget, if the weather’s nice, be sure to turn off the stereo and go outside. That’s what spring is really for!
Everyone’s heard of Beethoven’sMoonlight Sonata, right? And all they know is that theme from the first movement. But what about the rest of the sonata? And what about other piano sonatas? Here’s a short guide to the genre, with samples for all the movements of each one of those really famous ones, so that you get a better idea of what the genre is about and can then impress others with your pseudo-in-depth understanding of the subject. (Whether the impression is good or bad depends on your delivery.) We’ll start with the basics here, and next time, get into the slightly more obscure, so that it seems like you’ve more than just skimmed the surface. Click through the links to get more information about the composers and the sonatas.
Before we get into the music, here’s a bare bones introduction to the sonata as a form. Sonata comes from the term referring to what is usually the first of a grouping of two, three, or four movements. That first movement is a fast or moderately paced one, usually with three sections: the exposition, the development, and the recapitulation. In the exposition, themes or melodies are introduced; in the development, they are given a work out: put in new keys, shuffled around, transformed somehow; in the recapitulation, the themes are re-stated. The other movements typically included are a slow one, a dance-like or playful one, and a finale, also fast. A small set of variations can be one of the movements, and finales are often rondos. The same basic structure applies to sonatas for a solo instrument accompanied by piano, for string quartets and other chamber music, for symphonies, and for concertos. That’s all you really need to know to get started.
A glance at the lists of winners of major composition awards and commissions shows that many women are emerging as noteworthy composers, but their works are not yet making it onto commercial recordings at the same rate as men’s — an indication that there is still much room for progress toward real parity. The sampling presented here includes composers in their thirties and forties who represent a variety of national backgrounds and have established significant international careers. They may not yet be on the radar screen of the general public, but they deserve to be.
Composer and pianist Lera Auerbach defected from the Soviet Union while still in her teens and has gone on to establish a dual international career in the mold of nineteenth century composer-virtuosos. She was trained at Juilliard, where her teachers were Milton Babbitt and Robert Beaser, and at the Hannover Hochschüle für Musik. Gidon Kremer, Wu Han,Kremerata Baltica, the Tokyo String Quartet, and the Hamburg State Ballet are among the individuals and ensembles who have performed her music. Although her current discography consists primarily of piano and chamber music, she has written in a broadly impressive array of forms, including opera, ballet, symphony, concerto, orchestral music, and choral and vocal music. Among her recent projects is a ballet based on Hans Christian Anderson’s The Little Mermaid, for the Royal Danish Ballet. She is also recognized as a major poet in Russia, where her writing has already entered the literary canon.
Lisa Bielawa has a degree in literature from Yale, but has been active as a composer and performer since the early 1990s. She was a vocalist with the Philip Glass Ensemble, has toured and recorded with John Zorn, and is frequently the soloist in her own works. Bielawa won the 2001 Aaron Copland Award for Emerging Composers, and in 2002 received a prestigious Whitaker Commission, for which she wrote the major orchestral work, The Right Weather. She has had her works performed by Boston Modern Orchestra Project (where she is currently Composer in Residence), the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, the Omaha Symphony, at the Bang on a Can Festival, and at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Orchestral music has constituted a significant part of her work, but she has also written vocal, choral, and chamber music, and a chamber opera. Cerddorian Vocal Ensemble - Bielawa: Lamentations for a City
Gabriela Lena Frank is one of the growing number of young American composers to make a career outside the academic community. A defining element in her work is her diverse multi-cultural heritage, which includes Lithuanian, Peruvian and Chinese backgrounds. Although she has written in a variety of styles, including the use of aleatory techniques, the tradition that has most strongly shaped her musical voice is that of her mother’s native Peru, and her work is frequently characterized by the rhythmic vitality of South American folk musics. Frank composes in a number of genres, but is best known for her vocal, chamber, and orchestral music. Her music has been widely performed and recorded by prestigious groups including the Silk Road Project, the Kronos Quartet,Chanticleer, and the Symphony Orchestras of San Francisco,Houston,Baltimore, Atlanta,Los Angeles, and Chicago. Also an accomplished pianist, Frank has established a solid reputation both as a recitalist and recording artist.
Sadie Harrison was born in Australia, but was raised and trained in Great Britain and has gone on to develop a multinational career. She has devoted herself primarily to chamber music, and she has a special affinity for strings, but she has recently begun work on an opera based on St. Christina the Astonishing. A recurring theme in her work is a fascination with the folk traditions of Eastern Europe and Asia. A number of her works draw directly on her research of the musics of Lithuania, Georgia, Armenia, and she has written a cycle, The Light Garden Trilogy, based on Afghan music. Her music has received performances by a number of acclaimed ensembles, including the London Chamber Symphony, the Kreutzer Quartet, and the Bournemouth Sinfonietta, and she won the International Grieg Memorial Composition Competition 2005. Her involvement with folk cultures is related to her interest in archaeology, and in 2005 she began a program of studies in archaeology at Southampton University.
Weronika Ratusinska studied at the Warsaw Academy of Music and later studied with Louis Andriessen in The Hague, and his influence is easily heard in her music, which is tinged with the sounds and procedures of post-minimalism. Her work is best known in her native Poland, where she has been honored with many awards, but she is beginning to make a mark on the international scene, with performances in The Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Belgium, the Ukraine, and the United States. She is best known for her chamber music, but has also received recognition for her choral music. She has taught at the Warsaw Academy of Music since 2002.
The first voice we hear in James Joyce’s Ulysses is that of Buck Mulligan (the fictional counterpart to the author’s onetime friend, Oliver St. John Gogarty), gleefully singing the Gregorian chant of the Roman Catholic Mass from atop Dublin’s Martello Tower (left), in an attempt to rouse his sullen fellow lodger, Stephen Dedalus (Joyce’s literary stand-in and the hero of his previous novel, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man). This is the first time music appears in this vast, rambling, and wonderful book, but far from the last. As much as any of the arts and sciences that contribute to the colors and textures of Ulysses, music is a highly significant element and one which should be studied closely. Certainly, specialists in literature and average readers alike know that Ulysses is one of the greatest literary phenomena of the 20th century, as well as a prominent title on lists of banned books, the subject of major plays and films, the generator of a vast scholarly industry, and the steady holder of the #1 spot in the Modern Library’s 100 Best Novels list. Yet few music lovers seem aware that Ulysses is one of the most profoundly musical of the great books, even though music is neither the primary subject nor always apparent in the story.
For most of the early years of the LP, it was easy to distinguish classical albums from pop and rock albums with a quick glance at the cover art. There was stylistic diversity in classical cover art, but a recognizable graphic syntax served as a code that was understood virtually universally: this is serious music; if that’s not what you’re looking for, move on. The cover art for “popular” music, on the other hand, often using whimsical or sexual or just plain weird visuals to grab the shopper’s attention, tended to telegraph a more inviting, inclusive message: if you’re looking for good times, look no further!
Le Sacre du printemps was the third ballet Stravinsky composed for 
Stravinsky began sketching Le Sacre in 1911 in Clarens, Switzerland, on a muted upright piano in a room that measured eight by eight feet. This is an important aspect of the work’s gestation, because many of its dissonances and percussive rhythms were derived from Stravinsky’s obsessive sounding of chords on the piano. For example, the famous “Augurs of Spring” chord (sampled below), an F flat major triad and an E flat dominant seventh played together and repeated almost 200 times, fits under the fingers naturally and has a deeply resonant quality when played at the keyboard. As he composed the orchestral score of Le Sacre, Stravinsky simultaneously worked on a 
