Opening Night Gala

Joshua Bell, Violin
October 2, 2007, 8:00 p.m.
Strauss: Don Juan
Tchaikovsky: Capriccio Italien
Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1

STRAUSS: DON JUAN, OP. 20

RICHARD STRAUSS: Born in Munich, June 11, 1864; died in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, September 8, 1949

The Romantics were fascinated with the Don Juan figure - the pleasure-seeking character who pursues women passionately and relentlessly, who reels from one to the next in the futile search for the woman who will embody all the ideal traits of womankind, and who remains oblivious to the trail of broken hearts he leaves behind. This legendary libertine - gallant, dashing, daring and ruthless - first appeared in a play by the Spanish writer Tirso de Molina, El Burlador (1630). For nearly four hundred years, Don Juan has held sway over the literary world: witness such authors as Shadwell, Molire, Kirkegaard, Byron and Shaw. In music, he has been immortalized in Mozart's great opera Don Giovanni, not to mention works by Gluck, Liszt, Delibes, Mahler, Tchaikovsky and many others. Clearly this was subject matter for the brave new composer Richard Strauss to tackle.

Up until his 24th year (1888), Strauss had been composing in an essentially conservative style, highly reminiscent of Brahms and Schumann. With Don Juan, he broke out of this mold in a blaze of startlingly original creativity evident in his expressive harmony, in the incomparable verve of his themes, and especially in the phenomenally brilliant and virtuosic use of the orchestra. Following the line established by Berlioz, Liszt and Wagner, Strauss embraced a new musical sensibility, wedding music to literature. For his program, Strauss drew upon the Don Juan poem of Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850), published in 1851 as an unfinished series of fragments. Strauss prefaced his score with three fairly extensive quotations, providing a psychological window into the character's mind. Although the music does not follow Lenau's excerpts per se, Strauss portrays recognizable dramatic events, including two passionate love scenes, a carnival and a death scene.

The very opening bars of the score give an instant character sketch of a vibrant, restless and impetuous man. Even the most jaded concertgoer cannot fail to be jolted by the surge of electricity generated by the opening flourish. The virtuosic demands of this music, especially on the violins, guarantee it a place on nearly every audition list for a symphony job. Just as remarkable is the wealth of musical material contained in this overwhelming flash of sound - most of Don Juan's motivic fragments and melodic kernels are already exposed in that opening adrenalin rush. Themes of dash and brilliance mix with those of yearning intensity and soaring beauty. The long oboe solo halfway through, with its gently rocking undercurrent in the strings, is surely one of Strauss's most inspired ideas. Norman del Mar calls it "one of the great love-songs in all music . . . so profoundly, so heart-breakingly beautiful." This is followed by a proud, heroic theme played by all the horns in unison, reminding us of the composer's affinity for this instrument. (His father was one of Germany's most distinguished horn players.)

The music drives forward feverishly. At the height of the riotous carnival scene, a sudden and terrible silence arrives, followed by a grayness of instrumental tone color indicating that all frivolity has ended. The hero, thoroughly disillusioned, even disgusted with life, has allowed himself to be run through with a rapier. He expires with a few final shudders, consumed by the fires of his own passion.

Strauss himself conducted the premiere of his first truly important orchestral work in Weimar on November 11, 1889. It was an instant, resounding success, and the work has established itself in the repertory as one of the composer's finest works, as well as one of the most frequently performed of all pieces of program music.

TCHAIKOVSKY: CAPRICCIO ITALIEN, OP. 45

PIOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY: Born in Votkinsk, May 7, 1840; died in St. Petersburg, November 6, 1893

"I do not understand why I cannot sleep," wrote Tchaikovsky to his benefactress and friend, Nadejda von Meck on February 17, 1880. Part of the problem was surely the excitement and "wild folly" of the Roman carnival season. The composer was spending the winter months in Italy soaking up sun, local color and its music. "I have been working," he continued in his letter, "and during the last few days I have sketched the rough draft of an Italian Capriccio based on popular melodies. I think it has a bright future; it will be effective because of the wonderful melodies I happened to pick up, partly from published collections, and partly out in the streets with my own ears."

The Capriccio italien is no mere potpourri of tunes. Tchaikovsky took care to organize his melodic material into a carefully crafted formal structure in which we find elements of sonata form, theme and variation, and canon incorporated into a grand design. In addition Tchaikovsky clothed his melodic ideas in exceptionally brilliant and colorful instrumental garb. These colors are constantly varied, so that no two successive themes are heard by the same instrumental ensemble. The percussion section, augmented by tambourine and glockenspiel, accompanies almost constantly in some form or another. Tchaikovsky dedicated his Capriccio italien to Charles Davidov, director of the St. Petersburg Conservatory. The first performance took place in Moscow on December 18, 1880.

One of the melodies Tchaikovsky picked up in Rome was the opening fanfare, a bugle call he heard daily from his hotel room near the barracks of the Royal Italian Cuirasseurs. After this introduction comes a melancholy theme played in the warmly expressive lower range of the violins. A sprightly folk melody played by two oboes is next in line, followed by an even more animated theme divided between violins and solo horn. A last reminder of the melancholy violin theme from the beginning of the work precedes the concluding tarantella section. According to legend, this fiery dance is the antidote to the bite of the tarantula spider - anyone bitten must perform a tarantella to effect a cure. The Capriccio italien ends in utmost gaiety and riotous brilliance.

BRUCH: VIOLIN CONCERTO NO. 1 IN G MINOR, OP. 26

MAX BRUCH: Born in Cologne, January 6, 1838; died in Friedenau, near Berlin, October 2, 1920

Max Bruch is remembered by concertgoers today on the strength of just two or three works: Kol Nidre for cello and orchestra, the Scottish Fantasy for violin and orchestra, and of course, the First Violin Concerto in G minor. We of the twenty-first century have mostly forgotten that Bruch was highly regarded in his day, especially for secular choral music. His career as a composer embraced more than seven decades, from his earliest orchestral work at the age of eleven to the songs and choral music written just before he died at 83.

Bruch was born in Cologne and remained most of his life in Germany, traveling extensively throughout the country. His career peaked in 1891 when he was appointed professor of composition at the Berlin Academy, a post he held for nearly twenty years. The general lack of attention paid to Bruch today may be explained by Sir Donald Tovey: "He was the type of artist universally accepted as a master, about whose works no controversy could arise because no doubt was possible as to their effectiveness and sincerity."

Bruch began working on his First Violin Concerto in 1857, but put it aside for nine years. It was taken up again and completed in 1866. Otto von Knigslow performed the work on April 24, with the composer conducting. But Bruch was not satisfied with the concerto; after some revisions, he submitted it to the famous violinist Joseph Joachim for comment. Joachim suggested numerous changes, but rejected the composer's opinion that, because of the free-form first movement, it would be better entitled a fantasy than a concerto. Joachim wrote: "The designation concerto is completely apt. Indeed, the second and third movements are too fully and symmetrically developed for a fantasy. The separate sections of the work cohere in a lovely relationship, and yet - and this is the most important thing - there is adequate contrast. Moreover, Spohr entitled his Gesangszene a concerto!" The final version was first heard in Bremen in January, 1868. Nearly forty years later, Joachim still ranked the concerto as one of the four greatest of the nineteenth century, alongside those of Beethoven, Mendelssohn and Brahms, noting that Bruch's was "the richest, the most seductive."

The composer himself had these comments to make regarding his interest in the violin: "In my youth I studied the violin for four or five years. ... The violin seemed to me even at that time the queen of instruments. ... I was destined by nature to write compositions for the voice, and I always studied singing with special interest and have associated largely with singers. This tendency has, of course, also been displayed in my violin works."

The first movement, marked "Prelude," does not follow the standard sonata-allegro form. Nevertheless, its dark undercurrent of passion and drama serves to maintain interest. A brief cadenza precedes the orchestral transition to the second movement, the emotional heart of the concerto. Here we find three distinct themes, some of the loveliest and most lyrical in the violin repertory. A vigorous, energetic orchestral passage introduces the third movement. The soloist enters with a full statement of the gypsy-like theme, played with virtuosic flair across all four strings of the instrument. It has been suggested that Brahms had this movement in mind when he composed the finale of his own violin concerto. A more expansive and lyrical second theme alternates with the first, and the movement builds to an exciting, brilliant conclusion.