Program Notes: George Li Plays Rachmaninoff
Notes on our November 11 program by Ken Meltzer
Tormenta del Sur (1994)
Nancy Galbraith was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on January 27, 1951. The first performance of Tormenta del Sur took place at the Teatro Alberdi, San Miguel de Tucumán, Argentina, on September 24, 1995, with Eduardo Alonso-Crespo conducting the Orquesta Sinfónica de Tucumán. Approximate performance time is ten minutes.
Pittsburgh native Nancy Galbraith is Professor and Head of Composition at the Carnegie Mellon School of Music. Galbraith holds the Vira I. Heinz Professorship of Music endowed chair at the College of Fine Arts. The Pittsburgh Symphony has performed many of Galbraith’s works, including premieres conducted by Gennady Rozhdestvensky, Mariss Jansons, and Donald Runnicles. In addition to orchestral music, Nancy Galbraith is renowned for her compositions for chamber ensembles, wind ensembles, concert band, and chorus. An accomplished keyboard artist, Galbraith has composed numerous works both for piano and organ. Her music may be heard on a wide range of recordings.
“Tormenta del Sur begins ominously with a bass drum roll and a contrabass pulse, which is followed by a rhythmic motive in the celli, and subsequently stated in all of the strings. This motive becomes more frantic, and eventually explodes into a texture in the treble instruments. A melody is introduced under this texture in the bass instruments. The rhythmic motive then becomes accompaniment for the main theme of the first section, which is stated in the violins and answered by the celli. After several more statements of this theme, this section builds to a grand climax, with repeated notes in the violins, and a repeated a-minor chord in the brass. The repeated note fades away into a polyrhythmic texture with a bass pizzicato, percussion, and staccato woodwinds. The woodwinds gradually become legato and pianissimo, and the opening bass motive is then stated in a more lyrical fashion by the celli. A soft string tremolo follows, and the opening bass pulse reappears, introducing a gradual and steady ascent to the final climax.”
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Opus 43 (1934)
Sergei Rachmaninoff was born in Semyonovo, Russia, on April 1, 1873, and died in Beverly Hills, California, on March 28, 1943. The first performance of the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini took place in at the Lyric Opera House in Baltimore, Maryland, on November 7, 1934, with the composer as soloist, and Leopold Stokowski conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra. Approximate performance time is twenty-two minutes.
The Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Sergei Rachmaninoff’s final work for solo piano and orchestra, was completed in 1934 and premiered that same year in Baltimore on November 7. Rachmaninoff was the piano soloist, performing with Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra. That Christmas Eve, those same musicians recorded the work for RCA. This priceless historical treasure (think of what we would give for recordings of Mozart, Beethoven or Chopin interpreting their own compositions!) continues to be available for purchase and listening.
Rachmaninoff’s prodigious technique, which allowed him to negotiate the most difficult passages with ease and clarity, is evident throughout the 1934 recording. Equally striking is a lack of the interpretive indulgences and excesses many assume to be essential to late-Romantic repertoire. But Rachmaninoff’s taut, straightforward (and flawlessly executed) rendition of his Rhapsody is ideally suited to a work notable for its unity of construction, logical sequential argument, inexorable progression, and admirable partnership of soloist and orchestra.
While the term “Rhapsody” traditionally suggests a rather free-flowing piece, Rachmaninoff’s composition is, in fact, a tightly organized series of twenty-four variations on the principal theme of the Caprice No. 24 for solo violin by the Italian virtuoso and composer Nicolò Paganini (1782-1840). Although the Rhapsody is performed as a single continuous movement, it also divides rather neatly into four sections: Variations I-XI constitute the opening fast portion (with cadenza), Variations XII-XV are a combination minuet and scherzo, Variations XVI-XVIII offer a slow-tempo interlude, and Variations XIX-XXIV constitute the lively, concluding portion.
The Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini teems with felicities that, at every turn, display Rachmaninoff's skill and imagination as a composer. Take, for example, the work's opening measures, in which the first variation precedes the introduction of the theme itself!
Rachmaninoff’s preoccupation with the ancient Dies Irae chant is well documented, and it is fascinating to see how the composer weaves this music into Variations VII, X, and XXIV. Certainly the inclusion of the Dies Irae (“Day of Wrath”), as well as the use of the bone-rattling col legno effects in Variation IX, inject a diabolical element into the Rhapsody (rumors circulated during Paganini’s life that he acquired his phenomenal virtuosity via a contract with the Devil). Even the unforgettable Andante cantabile melody in Variation XVIII is the product of a bit of compositional legerdemain, as it is derived from an inversion of the original Paganini theme.
Rachmaninoff believed that each musical piece contained what he termed “the point,” the work’s culminating moment. In the Rhapsody, “the point” bursts onto the scene in the concluding variation, with the Paganini theme overwhelmed by a blazing account of the Dies Irae. Still, Rachmaninoff offers one last delightful surprise, as the Rhapsody ends not with the expected orchestral bang. Instead, the soloist teases the listener with a hushed fragment of the Paganini theme.
Symphony No. 7 in D minor, Opus 70 (1885)
Antonín Dvořák was born in Nelahozeves, Bohemia, on September 8, 1841, and died in Prague on May 1, 1904. The first performance of the Symphony No. 7 took place at St. James’s Hall in London, England, on April 22, 1885, with the composer conducting the London Philharmonic Society. Approximate performance time is thirty-five minutes.
Antonín Dvořák’s Ninth Symphony, Opus 95 (1893) (“From the New World”) is his most performed and well-known. But many commentators believe that the Seventh is the Czech composer’s greatest achievement in this genre. There is no doubt that Dvořák composed this Symphony with singular ambition and enthusiasm.
In June of 1884, The London Philharmonic Society nominated Dvořák as an Honorary Member and requested that he compose a new symphony. Dvořák hoped that his new creation would receive international acclaim in the manner of the works of his friend and idol, the German composer, Johannes Brahms. In a December, 1884 letter to his friend, Antonín Rus, Dvořák wrote: “Now I am occupied with my new symphony (for London), and wherever I go I have nothing else in mind but my work, which must be such as to make a stir in the world and God grant that it may!”
Dvořák began work on his Seventh Symphony in December of 1884. He completed the score the following March. The Symphony premiered in St. James’s Hall in London on April 22, 1885, with Dvořák conducting the London Philharmonic Society. The premiere was a great success. Nevertheless, Dvořák decided to cut 40 bars from the second-movement Andante. The composer informed his publisher, Simrock: “Now I am convinced that there is not a single superfluous note in the work.”
A performance on January 16, 1887, by Hans Richter and the Vienna Philharmonic helped to solidify the reputation of the Seventh as a major symphonic work. However, Berlin concerts directed by Hans von Bülow on October 27 and 28, 1889, made the greatest impression. After those triumphant performances, Dvořák affixed a portrait of Bülow to the title page of the score, and added the following inscription: “Glory be to you! You brought this work to life!”
It is clear why the Seventh has inspired such respect and affection among those who love Dvořák’s music. While all Nine of Dvořák’s Symphonies offer considerable pleasure, it is perhaps the Seventh that marks the summit of his achievements in this realm. In the Seventh, Dvořák (like Brahms) demonstrates that the Classical-era musical structures advanced by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven do not inhibit Romantic expression. Quite the contrary, Dvořák’s presentation and ingenious development of a remarkable wealth of thematic material produce a work of overwhelming momentum and impact.
The Symphony No. 7 is in four movements. The first (Allegro maestoso) is based upon two themes. The violas and cellos softly introduce the insinuating first principal theme that grows in volume and intensity. The woodwinds sing a lyrical, major-key waltz-like theme, marked dolce (“sweetly”), that in time also gains tremendous power. In a dramatic masterstroke, Dvořák concludes with a quiet, fragmented restatement of the opening theme. The slow-tempo second movement (Poco adagio) recalls its counterpart in the Brahms Third Symphony (1883), a work Dvořák greatly admired. The third movement is a Scherzo (Vivace). The literal translation of the Italian word scherzo is “joke,” but there is little humor in this fiery movement, set in the home key of D minor. The stormy Finale (Allegro) gives every indication of maintaining a tragic mood to the work’s conclusion. Suddenly, and most unexpectedly, the orchestra erupts in a D-Major outburst, bringing the Symphony to a triumphant (but perhaps somewhat unsettling) resolution.