Program Notes
September 19, 2009
Chopin – Piano Concerto No. 1
Frédéric Chopin never wrote a single piece of music that did not, in some way, involve a piano. Poland’s most famous musical product of the 19th century (arguably of all time), Chopin was recognized early, as a teenager, for his talents as a performer; he has since been celebrated as perhaps history’s greatest (and certainly most devoted) composer for the keyboard. Both his initial and eventual reputations come through in intriguing ways in his First Piano Concerto.
Here we have the work of a young genius, a man of only 20 years, writing a grand showpiece for a Warsaw public that already knew his name. This would be a farewell piece, indeed, to the city of his birth, a city he already had deemed too provincial for his aspirations.
Yet when he finally seated himself at the keyboard on the evening of October 11, 1830, in front of a capacity audience at the National Theatre, his first responsibility was to sit still and listen.
For four long minutes, Chopin made nary a sound, as the orchestra played through an elongated introduction.
It was as if the young composer were foreshadowing his own ultimate fame. Though he would not live long as a pianist (he died at the age of 39, after a career in which he became increasingly unwilling to perform in public), his concerto would play on without him, eventually establishing itself as a cornerstone of the musical canon.
In this precocious music, one hears the unmistakable voice of a musician blessed with astounding inventiveness and flexibility. Though Chopin has been criticized for the rather workmanlike orchestration of the concerto’s accompaniment, one cannot fault the textural and melodic range of the piano solo itself, which ventures through sections of grand heroism, emotional lyricism, delicious chromaticism and dazzling virtuosity.
Those who knew him well said that Chopin was blessed with an almost otherworldly effortlessness, both as a player and a composer.
“The other day I heard Chopin improvise at George Sand's house,” wrote Karl Filtsch, a student of Chopin’s. “It is marvelous to hear Chopin compose in this way: his inspiration is so immediate and complete that he plays without hesitation as if it could not be otherwise. But when it comes to writing it down and recapturing the original thought in all its details, he spends days of nervous strain and almost terrible despair.”
It’s worth noting that this so-called “first” concerto was not, in fact, the first piano concerto that Chopin wrote. At the age of 19, he had written another concerto for piano in orchestra, that one in F Minor. The official numerical order of the concerti reflects the order in which they were published.
Tchaikovsky – Symphony No. 4
The years 1876-77 were pivotal in Tchaikovsky’s personal and artistic development. In January of 1876, the 35-year old composer attended a performance of Bizet's new opera, Carmen, which profoundly affected the Russian composer. Then, in August, Tchaikovsky attended the first-ever production of Wagner's complete cycle of Der Ring des Nibelung. Though Tchaikovsky found this music mostly repelling, it was to influence his style throughout the rest of his life.
A scant two weeks after he attended the Wagner operas at Bayreuth, Tchaikovsky wrote to his brother: "I have decided to marry. I cannot avoid this; I have to do it..." Tchaikovsky had long resisted his homosexual urges, and this proved to be his final attempt to triumph over what he viewed as an emotional malaise.
The marriage was a rash and hasty act of desperation. Tchaikovsky had only known his fiance (a former pupil from the Moscow Conservatory) for a week before he proposed to her. After a quickly arranged wedding in July of 1877, Tchaikovsky found himself unable to bear his wife's presence, and in late September he attempted suicide. The pathetic attempt failed; but Tchaikovsky realized that the marriage was a fruitless endeavor, and he left his wife within three months of their marriage.
It was against this backdrop of emotional turbulence and artistic influence that Tchaikovsky composed his Fourth Symphony. He began composing the Symphony in early 1877, soon after completion of his fiery symphonic fantasy, Francesca da Rimin. Tchaikovsky made no excuses for the bold beginning of the Symphony: in a letter to his long-time patron Nadezhda von Meck, Tchaikovsky wrote, "this is Fate...that force that prevents the impulse to happiness from attaining its goal." Indeed, the entire work can be viewed as a struggle between, in Tchaikovsky's words, "hard reality" and "swiftly passing dreams of happiness."
Structured in four movements, the Fourth Symphony features a dramatic, emotionally intense first movement, in which the opening 'fate' theme recurs several times. The second movement contrasts the first, offering a nostalgic melancholy which Tchaikovsky described as "both sad yet somehow sweet." The third movement, a brilliant Scherzo featuring extended pizzicato sections, offers a sprightly diversion from the heavy tone of the first two movements; it leads immediately into a crashing finale, grand and incredibly fast, which asserts Tchaikovsky's conclusion: "Rejoice in others' joys. To live is still possible!"
Program notes written by Joe Nickell |