Overture Magazine 2013-2014 September-October 2013 | Page 22

{ Program Notes view. This is a series of variations, which differ from conventional variations in that they do not vary any one common theme. Each variation seizes upon some feature of the preceding one and develops it, introducing … some counter-features upon which the next variation seizes. … “The Seven Stages. The variation form continues for another set of seven, in which the characters go on an inner symbolic journey … leading back to a point of comfort and security. The four try every means, going singly and in pairs, exchanging partners, and always missing the objective. When they awaken from this dreamodyssey, they are closely united through a common experience (and through alcohol) and begin to function as one organism. This set of variations begins to show activity and drive and leads to a hectic, though inconclusive, close.” Part II: “The Dirge is sung by the four as they sit in a cab en route to the girl’s apartment for a nightcap. They mourn the loss of the ‘colossal Dad,’ the great leader who can alway give the right orders, find the right solution, shoulder the mass responsibility, and satisfy the universal need for a father-symbol. This section employs, in a harmonic way, a twelve-tone row out of which the main theme evolves. There is a contrasting middle section of almost Brahmsian romanticism, in which can be felt the self-indulgent aspect of this strangely pompous lamentation. “The Masque finds the group in the girl’s apartment, weary, guilty, determined to have a party, each one afraid of spoiling the others’ fun by admitting that he should be home in bed. This is a scherzo for piano and percussion alone … The party ends in anticlimax and the dispersal of the actors … Thus a kind of separation of the self from the guilt of escapist living has been effected, and the protagonist is free again to examine what is left beneath the emptiness. “The Epilogue. What is left, it turns out, is faith. The trumpet intrudes its statement of ‘something pure’ upon the dying pianino [upright piano in the orchestra]; the strings answer in a melancholy reminiscent of the Prologue … All at once, the strings accept 20 O v ertur e | www. bsomusic .org the situation in a sudden statement of the newly recognized faith … The way is open, but at the conclusion, is still stretching long before the [protagonist].” Instrumentation: Three flutes, piccolo, two oboes, English horn, two clarinets, bass clarinet, two bassoons, contrabassoon, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion and strings. An elegant demonstration of this belief, the Concerto in G was enormously successful at its premiere in Paris on January 14, 1932. Piano Concerto in G Major Daphnis et Chloé Suite No. 2 Maurice Ravel Born in Ciboure, Basses-Pyrenées, France, March 7, 1875; died in Paris, December 28, 1937 Maurice Ravel was a masterful composer for both the orchestra and the piano. Strangely he did not combine these sonorities until quite late in his career, when he wrote two remarkable concertos: the Concerto for the Left Hand and the Concerto in G Major for both hands. The impetus for the Concerto in G was Ravel’s need for a work to show off his performing skills during a North American tour in 1928, but this painstakingly slow creator did not manage to launch the concerto before his boat left. It was finally written between 1929 and 1931. Opposed to the heavy Teutonic approach of Beethoven and Brahms, Ravel declared: “The music of a concerto should, in my opinion, be light-hearted and brilliant, and not aim at profundity or at dramatic effects.” An elegant demonstration of this belief, the Concerto in G was enormously successful at its premiere in Paris on January 14, 1932. Its first movement mixes a timeless exoticism, arrayed in Ravel’s most sparkling orchestral hues, with a percussive, jazz-driven 20th-century pace. The opening is arresting: the crack of a whip sets off dazzling, bell-like music with the pianist playing white keys in the right hand against clashing black keys in the left. The piccolo whirls through a piquant melody, inspired by the folk melodies of Ravel’s native Basque country. Then the tempo slows to a bluesy mood, with wailing clarinet and muted trumpet melodies that George Gershwin himself might have penned. Jazz takes a rest during the delicately beautiful slow movement, which is in the antique style of the composer’s famous Pavane for a Dead Pr [