Celebration Finale
Classical Six
Christopher O'Riley, Piano

Sat, May 3, 2008, 8:00 p.m.
Sun, May 4, 2008, 2:30 p.m.

 

Celebration Finale
By Robert Markow

 

SIBELIUS: SYMPHONY NO. 7 IN C MAJOR, OP. 105

(in one movement)

 

JEAN SIBELIUS: Born in Tavastehus (Hämeenlinna), Finland, December 8, 1865; died in Järvenpää (near Helsinki), September 20, 1957

The Seventh is Sibelius' final symphony, the culmination of a lifetime of work in the direction of concision, compression and organic unity within symphonic form. In this twenty-minute work, the composer presents a seamless tapestry of motives, all interrelated, all rigorously and logically controlled so as to create, as he expressed it, "an inner connection between all the motifs." Sibelius' Seventh is the ne plus ultra of the single-movement symphony.

Sibelius himself was at first unsure what to call this work. At its premiere, conducted by himself in Stockholm on March 24, 1924, it appeared on the program as

Fantasia sinfonica. Afterwards he decided that it did indeed fulfill the requirements of symphonic design - not of symphony in the classical form of the model established by Haydn and Mozart, or even of the later works by Brahms and Tchaikovsky, but in the genre: a large-scale work striving for organic unity among its constituent. There is scarcely a moment of silence in the entire symphony; ideas and motifs follow one another without pause, at times overlapping, dovetailing and intertwining as well. 

There are really no themes one can leave the concert hall humming, yet the symphony abounds in memorable ideas and events. The opening rap on the tympani is often regarded as a kind of "call to attention." The ensuing scale-like passage in the strings constitutes one of the "seeds" or "germs" that will engender many of the symphony's subsequent motivic elements. Three times throughout the symphony the solo trombone delivers a noble incantation that cuts effortlessly through the dense polyphony around it; each of these incantations is a kind of landmark on the symphony's journey to its final cadence in C major. The Vivacissimo is another of the memorable moments, as strings and woodwinds in turn race skittishly in every direction.

As this symphony fits no traditional mold, yet is obviously continuously active in the unfolding of musical events, former Cleveland annotator Klaus Roy suggests that the listener experience it as a "tone poem without a story or picture."  Hence, each listener must create his or her own program. Another annotator (Timothy Day) finds in its conclusion "a resolution ... the dignified calm of a human spirit which has struggled and won through in a hostile environment."

Despite its relative brevity and the concentrated attention it demands, the Seventh Symphony exudes an epic character. Robert Simpson grandly regards it "like a great planet in orbit, its movement vast, inexorable, seemingly imperceptible to its inhabitants. [It] has both the cosmic motion of the earth and the teeming activity that is upon it; we are made to observe one or the other at the composer's will."

 

RAVEL: PIANO CONCERTO IN G

 

MAURICE RAVEL: Born in Ciboure, Pyrénées-Atlantiques, France, March 7, 1875; died in Paris, December 18, 1937

                                                        I. Allegramente

                                                       II. Adagio assai

                                                      III. Presto

The Boston Symphony Orchestra invited several important composers to write compositions for its fiftieth anniversary season of 1930-31, among them Stravinsky, Roussel, Honegger and Prokofiev. Ravel too was asked for a work, and he suggested a piano concerto. Nevertheless, the dedication did not go to the Boston Symphony after all, but to his favorite pianist, Marguerite Long. The first performance was given in Paris by

the Lamoureux Orchestra on January 14, 1932. Ravel had originally intended to play the piano part himself, but because of declining health, he granted the solo role to Marguerite Long, while he conducted.A number of elements combined to influence the style and form of the Concerto. Music of the Basques is immediately evident in the opening bars, for instance, where the exuberant piccolo theme bears strong relation to the folksong style of the Basques. The second theme, played first by the piano, suggests the influence of neighboring Spain. Ravel had spent much time in the Basque country during the summer and autumn of 1929, when he began to write the Concerto. Ravel's Basque hometown of Ciboure (a tiny seacoast town on the Bay of Biscay where France and Spain meet) honored him the following year, strengthening the composer's ties to his homeland.

The jazz influence is even more pronounced, stemming from Ravel's tour throughout the United States in 1928. He visited the jazz clubs of New Orleans and Harlem, and no doubt heard, among others, Paul Whiteman's orchestra. With George Gershwin he struck up a mutually admiring friendship. The influence of Gershwin's Piano Concerto in F can be felt in Ravel's Concerto, especially in the first movement with its "blues" notes, jazz harmonies and rhythms.

Ravel professed that "the music of a concerto should, in my opinion, be lighthearted and brilliant, and not aim at profundity or at dramatic effects." In this respect his Concerto in G succeeds splendidly, and Ravel liked to refer to it as a divertissement de luxe.

 

SAINT-SAËNS: SYMPHONY NO. 3 IN C MINOR, OP. 78
(Organ)

 

                                     I. Adagio - Allegro moderato - Poco adagio

                                    II. Allegro moderato - Presto - Maestoso - Allegro

CAMILLE SAINT-SAËNS:  Born in Paris, October 9, 1835; died in Algiers, December 16, 1921

 

For grandeur, majesty and sheer tonal opulence, few symphonies can stand beside the Third of Saint-Saëns. The prominent contribution from the organ, the "King of Instruments," provides an additional measure of imposing sonority to the work. Yet this symphony is an anomaly in the composer's oeuvre. First, it is the only one of his five symphonies to achieve any lasting reputation. Furthermore, Saint-Saëns is not much regarded as a "symphonist," and were it not for the Organ Symphony, he would have no more importance in this field than Fauré or Gounod. (Saint-Saëns also left two numbered and two unnumbered symphonies, all written many years before the Third.) Second, there exists virtually no French symphony upon which Saint-Saëns could have modeled his Third in terms of spaciousness and grandness of design. The last really great French symphony had been Berlioz' Symphonie fantastique (1830), which relied heavily on programmatic elements, which are totally lacking in Saint-Saëns' symphony. Hence, the Organ Symphony was really the first in a line of grand French symphonies, which bore fruit from Franck, d'Indy and Chausson among others. And third, there is little in Saint-Saëns' other music to prepare us for this symphony's monumentality and its undisguised attempts to "wow" the audience. Saint-Saëns generally conformed to the stylistic traits of much French music - charm, elegance, restraint, plus the transparent scoring, clean outlines and consummate craftsmanship of a basically classical orientation. The Organ Symphony has all of this, but it has more as well - much more. Michael Steinberg has dubbed Saint-Saëns the "master of the immense and effortless fortissimo."

The Third Symphony was written in early 1886 as the result of a commission from the Philharmonic Society of London. The first performance took place in St. James's Hall in London on May 19 of that year. It was a gala event of course, with the Prince and Princess of Wales (Edward VII and Queen Alexandra) in attendance. Saint-Saëns conducted his symphony after having already appeared as soloist in Beethoven's Fourth Piano Concerto in the same concert. The public loved the symphony, and critical reception was generally favorable, though some critics grumbled about its unorthodox design. 

The entire symphony is based on the principle of continual transformation of a "motto" theme. This theme makes its first full appearance in the restless series of short detached notes in the violins, following the slow, mysterious introduction. The attentive ear will pick out this theme in its rhythmic and coloristic metamorphoses throughout the symphony - at varying times flowing and lyrical, detached and fragmented, broad and noble, or agitated and restless. The melodic line is also sometimes altered as well.

Although ostensibly in two large parts, the work conforms basically to a standard four-movement symphony. The first movement contains a contrasting second theme - a gently swaying line in the violins which serves as a contrast to the first - but it is the first theme (the "motto') that is mostly developed. The Adagio movement is ushered in by soft pedal points in the organ, and unfolds leisurely in a mood of elevated and lofty contemplation. After a full, extended pause comes the agitated scherzo-like movement, one of extraordinary energy and drive. Into its nervous principal theme are worked fragments of original "motto" material (lightning flashes of woodwinds). The most exultant moments are reserved for the concluding section, announced by an enormous C-major chord from the organ. Sonic thrills pile up to ever greater heights, and the symphony ends in a magnificent blaze of C major.