Could these three ballet 'starters' be more different?

Sorry, but Part 2 of last week's "Chain of associations" post ("Retracing how 'Excerpt I' came into my head + the odd path to 'Excerpt II' + a stab at explaining how it mattered") isn't quite ready. I'm aiming for tomorrow.

In the meantime --

WE HAVE MUSIC RELEVANT TO THE WORK-IN-PROGRESS

Set design by Konstantin Ivanov for Ballet No. 1's first performance, 1892

The start of Ballet No. 1

[2:56] Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, William Steinberg, cond. Command, recorded in Soldiers & Sailors Memorial Hall, Apr. 29, 1964

The start of Ballet No. 2

[2:25] New Philharmonia Orchestra, Leopold Stokowski, cond. Decca 'Phase 4', recorded in Kingsway Hall, London, September 1965

The start of Ballet No. 3

[2:29] Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, Ernest Ansermet, cond. Decca, recorded in Victoria Hall, Geneva, November 1958

by Ken

Again, these are the openings of three really well-known ballets. I'll be surprised if you don't recognize all of them. In a moment -- well, right after the click-through -- we're going to hear them again, properly identified, and with additional performances of each of our ballets. Plus, as a bonus, we're going to hear how one of them continues on a bit once the stage action begins.

HERE ARE OUR THREE BALLETS PROPERLY IDENTIFIED
(And now with an interesting assortment of performances)

Chain of associations: Retracing how 'Excerpt I' came into my head + the odd path to 'Excerpt II' + a stab at explaining how it mattered

I KNOW I'LL REGRET IT, BUT I WANT TO TRY TALKING
ABOUT WHAT I THINK OF AS MUSICAL "AUTHENTICITY"
(Which has nothing to do with the kind usually talked about)

What is this distinguished-looking fellow up to? (FWIW,
note that whatever it is, he's doing it without a baton.)

EXCERPT  I

[2:47] New Philharmonia Orchestra, Leopold Stokowski, cond. Decca 'Phase 4', recorded in Kingsway Hall, London, September 1965

EXCERPT  II

[Don't overboost the volume! Note that Excerpt II starts 'p' (soft); even the crescendo is only to 'poco più f ' (a little louder).]

[4:49] Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, Leopold Stokowski, cond. Decca 'Phase 4', recorded in the Grand Théâtre, Geneva, Sept. 15-16, 1968

NOTE: Excerpt II is so startling in both conception and scoring, I've copied more of the score for when we hear it again. -- Ed.

A NOTE ON THE WORK THAT 'EXCERPT II' COMES FROM

Many (most?) people, when they think of it, think of the great love theme --


[2:48] Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert von Karajan, cond. DG, recorded in the Jesus-Christus-Kirche, Oct. 12-13, 1966

But that's not where we're heading. This theme is kind of foolproof, can't-miss. It's hard to imagine any conductor misfiring with it. -- Ed.

by Ken

Sometimes it's intriguing to try to retrace a train of thought, back to its point of origin, to maybe see how it was hatched, and then how it morphed through its wanderings. As it happens, in this case -- the case of the specific part of the "odd path" I referenced above, from Excerpt I to Excerpt II -- the pathway, if not the actual thought collision, is easy to identify: On a Stoky "compilation" CD that Decca put out, they're the first and last of the 17 tracks.


HOW EXACTLY DID THOSE TRACKS AT OPPOSITE
ENDS OF A 17-TRACK CD CRASH INTO EACH OTHER?

Hear three themes get made over!(A sneaky way to sneak a peek into an imagination like none other?)

You'll probably know the composer(s?) who created our themes -- and why I've made a group out of these themes

[Partial revise, 7/28/2025: Timings for all of the audio clips, now stripped out of Internet Archive's clip-embedding format, have been added -- and some other problems have been addressed, in an all-too-micro way. -- Ed.]

[1:58] Norwegian Chamber Orchestra players (Per Kristian Skalstad, violin; Hanne Skjelbred, viola; Ole Eirik Ree, cello; Kenneth Ryland, double bass; Ole Christian Haagenrud, piano) deliver the second of our themes -- from an NCO chamber series called "Feel Good" ("a weekly dose of music that will lift and comfort your spirits"). [Watch on YouTube.]

THE THREE THEMES

[1] A familiar-to-us "Introduction" and "Theme" for flute and piano
(As we've heard, this stand-alone work gets a gorgeous "Introduction")

[4:56; Theme at 3;15] Alexander Korneyev, flute; Emil Gilels, piano. Melodiya, recorded in Moscow, 1958
[4:38; Theme at 3:01] Jean-Pierre Rampal, flute; Robert Veyron-Lacroix, piano. EMI, published 1959
[4:43; Theme at 2:46] Emmanuel Pahud, flute; Eric Le Sage, piano. Valois, recorded in the Salle de Châtonneyre (Switzerland), February 1994

[2] A theme for piano (+violin/viola/cello/double bass) quintet
(I've cheated and tacked on a variation, so we get to hear the piano! -- Ed.)

[1:58] Berlin Philharmonic soloists (Guy Braunstein, violin; Amihai Grosz, viola; Olaf Maninger, cello; Janne Saksala, double bass); Yuja Wang, piano. Live performance, Salle Pleyel, Paris, Mar. 20, 2011 [from the Yuja Wang Archives]
[2:05] Smetana Quartet members (Jiří Novák, violin; Milan Škampa, viola; Antonin Kohout, cello); František Pošta, double bass; Josef Hála, piano. Supra­phon-Denon, recorded in the House of Artists, Prague, Oct. 11-14, 1983
[2:18] Alexander Schneider, violin; Michael Tree, viola; David Soyer, cello; Julius Levine, double bass; Peter Serkin (age 18), piano. Vanguard, recorded in New York City, 1965
[UPDATE: From quickest performance to slowest, the timings broaden by only 7 and 13 seconds -- but hear what a difference those seconds make!]

Finally: [3] A haunting theme for string quartet --

[2:17] Tokyo String Quartet (Peter Oundjian and Kikue Ikoda, violins; Kazuhide Isomura, viola; Sadao Harada, cello). RCA, recorded in Richardson Hall, Princeton University, Princeton, NJ, Sept. 19-22, 1989
[2:27] Brandis Quartet (Thomas Brandis and Peter Brem, violins; Wilfried Strehle, viola; Wolfgang Boettcher, cello). Nimbus, recorded in the Concert Hall of the Nimbus Foundation, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth, Wales, Mar. 2-3, 1994
[2:58] Kodály Quartet (Attila Falvay and Tamás Szabo, violins; Gábor Fias, viola; János Devich, cello). Naxos, recorded in the Unitarian Church, Budapest, Oct. 8-11, 1991

The Tokyo and Brandis are our speed merchants here, but these are such solid and sonorous players that the music doesn't sound rushed, or at least not too rushed. But enter the wider-open, vibrant-toned, and yet lurkingly dangerous world of the Kodály, and now we've really got something! (Longtime readers know how easily seduced I am by the singing tones of a good Hungarian or Czech string ensemble.) We even get the sense of foreboding built into the music. I like this performance a lot. -- Ed.

by Ken

Anyone who happens to have kept tabs on these theoretically weekly posts knows that we're simultaneously immersed in an almost uncountable number of musical inquiries. Today I propose to begin cleaning up an unforgivable breach of Sunday Classics conduct. It dates back [link tk] to when I was taking note of the very musical transformations we're listening to "up-closer." But back then, I merely mentioned that we'd heard them all before and left it at that -- without providing so much as a link!

This isn't how we normally do business in this department. Wherever possible, I try to take advantage of our basic format opportunity: to actually hear stuff that comes up for discussion, or even just mention, not just yammering.


WHAT WE HEARD ARE ALREADY TRANSFORMATIONS --
NOW LET'S GO BACK TO THEIR "SOURCE" FORMS

The nature of those "sources" -- three songs -- is obviously how these themes have come to form a group. And as we hear them, we're also going to hear the final transformations that were wrought on them. I'm going to try to keep the chatter to a minimum, so it'll be (I hope) mostly listening and hearing.

THE THREE SONGS -- TAKING SOME NOTE NOW
OF THE TRANSFORMATION(S) THEY WOULD UNDERGO

(2) It's Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau's 100th birthday Wednesday!And (1) We ask a panel of experts:Can a flute do "somber"?

WE'RE GOING TO ATTEMPT HERE SOMETHING WE'VE NEVER DONE BEFORE: THE BEGINNINGS OF TWO DIFFERENT POSTS

HAPPY 100th, DIETRICH F.-D.! (1925-2012)

With András Schiff, Fischer-Dieskau sings "Trockne Blumen" (1991).
Of course we're going to hear it, right after some administrative stuff.

[Screen cap from video of their Schöne Müllerin in Feldkirch (Austria)]

by Ken

Post No. 1 is the long-awaited follow-up to the April 21 post, "Schubert understood that life sometimes works out and other times . . . well, it doesn't." The beginning has been sitting ready for a while now, waiting for the rest of it to come together. Much progress has been made, but we're not there yet, and when, amid the huffing and puffing to get there, I was reminded that the Fischer-Dieskau centenary is imminent --

I got the idea for "Post No. 2," which could be made by simply ripping a completed chunk out of the draft of Post No. 1, with minimal alteration, as an introduction to a selection of Fischer-Dieskau gems from the SC Archive. Not so simple, alas, as I realized when I got as far as some Bach and Gluck. No problem: We'll reserve the full archival dip to a future date and tack the Bach and Gluck excerpts onto the chunk extracted from "Post No. 1."

OH, ONE MORE THING: We'll be hearing the two post-beginnings in reverse order. After all, it's Dieter F.-D.'s b'day!


Post No. 2
IT'S D.F.-D.'S 100th BIRTHDAY WEDNESDAY!

Just 'cause here's no longer with us is no reason not to mark the occasion.

SCHUBERT: Die schöne Müllerin (The Beautiful Milleress), D. 795:

[1] Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, as we heard in our last post, from his 1971 DG recording of Die schöne Müllerin with Gerald Moore at the piano
[2] AS PICTURED ABOVE: Fischer-Dieskau at 65 (!), with András Schiff, at the Schubertiade in Feldkirch (Austria), June 1991  [Watch here, at 47:18]
[3] Baritone Sanford Sylvan, with David Breitman accompanying on fortepiano, from their 1991 Schöne Müllerin for Elektra Nonesuch

Schubert understood that life sometimes works out and other times . . . well, it doesn't

PANICKY MONDAY 12:15pm UPDATE: OMG, after the heap of fixing and tinkering I've done, suddenly the audio clips aren't loading! I think it's an Internet Archive website problem and, um, maybe it'll fix itself? Please check back, and maybe pray? -- Ed.

RELIEVED MONDAY 12:50pm UPDATE: I think we're OK! In the meantime, I've fixed yet another incorrect clip. Sigh! -- Ed.

The world's first superstar flutist, Jean-Pierre Rampal, with his frequent collaborator -- on both harpsichord and piano -- Robert Veyron-Lacroix

I THINK SOMETHING OF A MIRACLE HAPPENS AT
THE VERY START OF THIS ROUSING MUSICAL BIT

For now let's call it "Flute & Piano Bit A," and note that it consists of a mere eight bars of music, repeated. Note too how differently our two elite performing teams imagine it. (If you need a hint, start by noting the timings.)

Jean-Pierre Rampal, flute; Robert Veyron-Lacroix, piano. EMI, ℗1959
Emmanuel Pahud, flute; Eric Le Sage, piano. Valois, recorded in the Salle de Châtonneyre (Switzerland), February 1994

BUT TO APPRECIATE WHAT HAPPENS AT THE START OF 'BIT A,'
WE NEED TO HEAR SOMETHING REALLY QUITE DIFFERENT

We can call it "Flute & Piano Bit B" -- and note again how differently our performers hear this music. (A word of caution: Be careful not to crank your volume up. Note that this bit begins pp [very soft] for the piano and p [soft] for the flute, and while it does heat up, it quickly cools back down.)

Jean-Pierre Rampal, flute; Robert Veyron-Lacroix, piano
Emmanuel Pahud, flute; Eric Le Sage, piano

by Ken

Before we go on, there are a few more things you should perhaps know about "Flute & Piano Bit A."

(1) My proffer of "something of a miracle" may be misleading, given that we usually think of "miracles" as happy-making events. I think the composer was well aware of this, and really meant for what's happening here to sound happy-ish, but I don't want you to blame me if the "miracle" turns out to seem fairly catastrophic.

"Out-of-body" Beethoven, part 2: Is one of these three string-trio slow movements even more special than the other two?

BEETHOVEN: String Trio in G, Op. 9, No. 1:
ii. Adagio ma non tanto e cantabile (key: E major)

Itzhak Perlman, violin; Pinchas Zukerman, viola; Lynn Harrell, cello. EMI, recorded live at the 92nd Street Y, New York City, June 6-7, 1990

BEETHOVEN: String Trio in D, Op. 9, No. 2:
ii. Andante quasi allegretto (key: D minor)

Itzhak Perlman, violin; Pinchas Zukerman, viola; Lynn Harrell, cello

BEETHOVEN: String Trio in C minor, Op. 9, No. 3:
ii. Adagio con espressione (key: C major)

Itzhak Perlman, violin; Pinchas Zukerman, viola; Lynn Harrell, cello

"[These three] extraordinary slow movements in the key of E major [from the Piano Trio in G, Op. 1, No. 2; the String Trio in G, Op. 9, No. 1; and the String Quartet No. 8 in E minor, Op. 59, No. 2] . . . share an almost out-of-body quality, and it’s inspiring to wonder what this beautiful tonality must have meant to Beethoven."

-- David Finckel, in "Making the most out of chamber music coaching," from The Strad newsletter, Jan. 21, 2025

by Ken

The David Finckel quote, of course, is a pickup from last week's first installment of "'Out-of-body' Beethoven?," wherein we took advantage of this linkage of three Beethoven slow movements in E major, offered as an example of the kind of musical context he can offer to students as part of one of his most enjoyed yet enormously complex activities: coaching chamber music. I thought it would be fun as well as instructive to listen to David F.'s three E major slow movements -- along with two stringless ones I added, from the Op. 90 and Op. 109 Piano Sonatas.

For me there was no question that David F.'s trio of slow movements have something special in common. One thing I wanted to do was listen to what assorted performers have heard in them, to get some idea of how we might think about that special "E major quality." I also wanted to hear those movements in the context of the works they're part of, to get a sense of the kinds of use Beethoven made of that special quality (or qualities). And we're still going to attempt to do both of those things.

I'm still plugging away at that next step. Meanwhile I thought it would be interesting just to set one of those E major movements against alongside some comparable slow movements, which is what we've done above. The G major Trio, Op. 9, No. 1, is part of a set of three, and above we've heard the same performers play the slow movements of all three.

I suspect that for many of us, even the most confirmed Beethoven-philes, the string trios don't figure prominently in our listening. I'm always reminded when I have occasion to return to them (the three trios of Op. 9 were preceded by a six-movement Trio in E-flat, Op. 3, and the five-movement Serenade in D, Op. 8), I'm reminded that they're not only potentially more entertaining but more substantial than I remembered. It's generally pointed out that the trios were in some sense a preparation for the creative force that Beethoven would unleash in the Op. 18 set of six string quartets. Already I think it's fair to say that the three slow movements of Op. 9 are pretty gorgeous.

If the Adagio ma non tanto e cantabile of Op. 9, No. 1 were in E minor, it would be in the parallel minor key of the first movement's G major, but it's not in E minor, it's in E major. (We have this same relationship in the Op. 1, No. 2 Piano Trio.) In the remaining trios the slow movement is in the parallel minor or major of the first. The nervous tension of the D minor of Op. 9, No. 2 is a striking contrast to the D major of the first movement, while the C major of the harmonically ambiguous Adagio con espressione of Op. 9, No. 3 is about as un-C-majory a C major as I can think of.


AS A REMINDER, HERE ARE THE PERFORMANCES WE HEARD OF THE OP. 9, NO. 1 "ADAGIO MA NON TANTO E CANTABILE"

"Out-of-body" Beethoven? We have three gifted samples (and then we'll add a couple more)

"[These three] extraordinary slow movements in the key of E major . . . share an almost out-of-body quality, and it’s inspiring to wonder what this beautiful tonality must have meant to Beethoven."

-- David Finckel, in "Making the most out of chamber music coaching,"

from The Strad newsletter, Jan. 21, 2025 [from which much more below]

(1) from the Piano Trio No. 2 in G, Op. 1, No. 2:
ii. Largo con espressione (Largo with expression)

Suk Trio (Josef Suk, violin; Josef Chuchro, cello; Josef Hála, piano). Supraphon-Denon, recorded in the House of Artists, Prague, April 1984
[NOTE: Volume on this clip is a bit low -- you might nudge your level up.]

Isaac Stern, violin; Leonard Rose, cello; Eugene Istomin, piano. Columbia-CBS-Sony, recorded in CBS 30th Street Studio, July 11 & Dec. 18-19, 1969

(2) from the String Trio in G, Op. 9, No. 1:
ii. Adagio ma non tanto e cantabile (Adagio but not too much and cantabile)

Jascha Heifetz, violin; William Primrose, viola; Gregor Piatigorsky, cello. RCA, recorded in Radio Recorders Studios, Hollywood, Mar. 27, 1957 (mono)

Trio à cordes français (Gérard Jarry, violin; Serge Collot, viola; Michel Tournus, cello). EMI France, recorded 1970

(3) from the String Quartet No. 8 in E minor, Op. 59, No. 2 (Rasumovsky No. 2): ii. Molto adagio. Si tratta questo pezzo con molto di sentimento (This piece is to be treated with much feeling)

Brandis Quartet (Thomas Brandis and Peter Brem, violins; Wilfried Strehle, viola; Wolfgang Boettcher, cello). Harmonia Mundi France, recorded November 1986

Borodin Quartet (Ruben Aharonian and Andrei Abramenkov, violins; Igor Naidin, viola; Valentin Berlinsky, cello). Chandos, recorded in the Small Hall of the Moscow Conservatory, March 2003

by Ken

Yes, yes, we have many important projects afoot, and during the long silence I've been toiling away at them. All I can say is, watch this space. Then, as part of my daily online dose of The Strad, that invaluable publication that takes as its brief everything and everyone having to do with string instruments, I found myself immersed in the above-referenced piece by cellist, professor, and general music administrator-impresario David Finckel offering an overview of one of his favorite and at the same time most demanding musical activities: coaching chamber music.

from "Making the most out of chamber music coaching"
(from The Strad newsletter, Jan. 21, 2025)

by David Finckel

"Teaching chamber music has been one of the greatest pleasures of my professional life. Students who seek my guidance garner my utmost admiration for their pursuit of expertise in one of the highest forms of art ever devised by humankind. I cannot possibly encourage them enough.

The start of an all-too-quick remembrance of a special singer we'll be hearing from (too briefly) in an upcoming Mahler 3 post

[(MORE) PROPER EXPLANATION TO COME,
plus another whole installment (though not today for that!)]

MOZART: Exsultate, jubilate (motet, Exult, rejoice),
K. 165: iv. Alleluja

Judith Raskin, soprano; Cleveland Orchestra members, George Szell, cond. Columbia-CBS-Sony, recorded in Severance Hall, May 11, 1964

by Ken

Yes, yes, we have some things to talk about, but not just now. There's all kinds of things in the works, which I'll tell you a bit more about when I get the rest of this "sampler" post up -- execept to note that when we return to Mahler 3, we're going to be hearing, all too briefly, from a singer I worry has been forgotten. Although she had a lovely voice, it wasn't one of the sort that by itself thrills you, and you didn't necessarily feel you'd had a chunk of repertory suddenly illuminated for you. But Judith Raskin (1928-1984) did something maybe better: A performance of hers pretty much always left you feeling good.

I have these clips ready (though the Stravinsky is so fresh, it's still warm), and I really wanted to get something posted on Sunday. But even in so skimpy a sampler, there's more I want to share -- like some moments from her Nannetta when Leonard Bernstein conducted Falstaff at the Met, and more Mozart, and some songs . . . and, well, I'm still not quite sure what else. Maybe I'll have something to say about these excerpts, or then again maybe I won't. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

(1) ABOUT THE "ALLELUJA"

This luscious performance comes from an Exsultate, jubilate that originally occupied one side of a Szell Mozart LP that otherwise didn't have absolutely tight logic, in spite of which it became one of the readiest "go to" record in my collection.

Most of a lifetime later I can vouch that I adore both works, but I can't imagine that at the time I was looking for this particular coupling -- and I honestly don't remember which work I was shopping for. The Exsultate you now know something about; the Sinfonia Concertante -- featuring Cleveland concertmaster Rafael Druian and principal violist Abraham Skernick -- is still possibly my favorite recording of a piece I adore. I guess it worked out, because both sides of that LP got plenty of play. Nevertheless, it seems worth noting that since that original LP issue I don't believe the two performances have ever shared a disc. I have them both on CD, but on separate CDs. The Exsultate is still only semi-logically coupled, sharing a CD with the performance we're about to hear --

As we've noted, there's more than one reason to care about Mahler's loopy little Wunderhorn song "Ablösung im Sommer," Part 1

FOR STARTERS, IS THIS THE SAME SONG?

MAHLER: Lieder aus der Jugendzeit (Songs from Youth):
"Ablösung im Sommer" ("Summer Replacement")

Cuckoo has fallen to his death
on a green willow tree.
Cuckoo is dead!
Fallen to his death.

Who then for us this whole summer
will while away the time?
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Hey! Lady Nightingale must do so!

She sits on a green branch:
the small, delicate Nightingale,
the dear, sweet Nightingale!
She sings and hops, is ever happy,
even when other birds are silent.

We'll wait for Lady Nightingale,
who lives in green hedgerows.
And if the cuckoo is at an end,
then she will start to warble.

-- original text "based on" Des Knaben Wunderhorn but
mostly by Mahler, translation (mostly) by William Mann

Listen on YouTube (audio only)
Or click here to go to Internet Archive, then press ► to play


Janet Baker, mezzo-soprano; Geoffrey Parsons, piano. Hyperion, recorded in Rosslyn Hill Unitarian Chapel, Hampstead, London, Feb. 24-25, 1983

Or click here to go to Internet Archive, then press ► to play


Diana Damrau, soprano; Stephan Matthias Lademann, piano. Telos Music, recorded in Telos Music Studios, Mechernich-Floisdorf, Germany, May or Sept. 2003

Click here to listen on Internet Archive, then press ► to play


Anny Felbermayer, soprano; Viktor Graf, piano. Vanugard, recorded in Vienna, 1952

Click here to listen on Internet Archive, then press ► to play


Judith Raskin, soprano; George Schick, piano. Epic-CBS-Sony, recorded in New York City, June 1965

A NOTE ON THIS WEEK'S MUSIC (AND SOME
CONSIDERATIONS GOING FORWARD)

Happily, Internet Archive seems back to something like normal functioning, meaning that it's once again possible to draw on Sunday Classics clips that reside there. However, this post, as you may recall, was originally conceived to depend on YouTube for music, and so a fair amount of today's music is so sourced, though it's all audio-only.

A number of today's performances already existed in the SC Archive (chez Internet Archive), and I've returned to embedding clips, hoping they'll play normally. But for these selections I've also included links to their Internet Archive pages. And I've included them in a particular form: with the "Webamp" player active. I've done this for another reason. While I.A. was grounded, the team was also working on a new version of its player, which is what 's used to play the clips that are embedded here. So that even after access to the archive was restored, for a while it was necessary, even if you were listening on-site, to switch to the Webamp option in order to hear anything.

At some point the new player must have been activated, but it appears that, understandably, it wasn't designed to work on old, no-longer-supported browser versions. So anyone who's dependent on such browsers isn't going to be hearing much music. If there are any SC readers in that situation, I'd love to know about it, because this means that all those years' worth of posts are going to be music-less for you. K can at least continue going forward to provide on-site links.

by Ken

In last week's post ("Not that it takes much, but I'm in an 'Urlicht' frame of mind -- and we're going to have some other Mahler Wunderhorn songs too," Oct. 28) we listened to a pair of Mahler's great song hits, "
Urlicht" and "Father Anthony's Fish Sermon," both settings of texts drawn from the folk-song anthology Des Knaben Wunderhorn" ("The Youth's Magic Horn") -- and a little wisp of a third, less consequential Wunderhorn song: the song we've just heard again in an almost confounding range of renderings, "Ablösung im Sommer." It's one of Mahler's early Wunderhorn settings, which he felt no need (or reason) to orchestrate himself, though we've already heard it with orchestra (and we have in store performances with orchestratations by several different hands).


IT'S A CHARMING, PERHAPS GOOFY
OR MAYBE EVEN WEIRD LITTLE SONG

Not that it takes much, but I'm in an "Urlicht" frame of mind -- and we're going to have some other Mahler Wunderhorn songs too

AND DO WE HAVE A KNOCKOUT "URLICHT" COMING UP!

---

TODAY WE HAVE MUSIC!!!  (It's just not in our usual form)

Internet Archive, where SC's music is lodged, has been dealing with major cyber-attacks (see below). While it's back online (hooray!), it's still in "read-only" form, so I still had to find another way to "re-musicalize" an SC post.

---

zart  adj  sensitive, delicate, tender
[from Mahler's directive to the singer of "Urlicht":
"durchaus zart" -- "throughout zart"]

MAHLER: Symphony No. 2 in C-sharp minor (Resurrection):
iv. "Urlicht" ("Primal Light"): Sehr feierlich, aber schlicht (Choralmässig) (Very solemn, but simple/plain/truthful) (Chorale-like)
Then at bar 3: "Nicht schleppen" ("Don't drag")


Per the 2015 YT posting: "the first known footage of Glenn Gould conducting"

O little red rose,
Man lies in greatest need,
Man lies in greatest pain,
I would rather be in heaven.
Then I came upon a broad path,
then came a little angel and wanted to turn me away.
Ah no, I didn't let myself be turned away:
I am from God and want to return to God,
the dear God will give me a little light,
will light the way for me to eternal blissful life.

-- original German text from Des Knaben Wunderhorn

Maureen Forrester, contralto; orchestra, Glenn Gould, cond. Live performance filmed in Loew's Uptown Theatre, Toronto, for the CBC's 1956-57 Chrysler Festival series, aired Feb. 20, 1957

by Ken

To quote myself from the Oct. 2 Sunday Classics post:

Mahler had access to sheer beauty in a way that only Schubert could rival (think of "Urlicht," the radiant alto setting drawn from Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano's three-volume German folk-poetry anthology Des Knaben Wunderhorn, which sets the stage for the monumental finale of the Resurrection Symphony). In addition, for all Mahler's command of musical tragedy, he was the genuinely wittiest composer the classical world has produced (think of "Father Anthony's Fish Sermon," a very different Wunderhorn settting).

Now, the above text chunk contains a basic breach of Sunday Classics protocol -- did you spot it? It's the, er, inspiration for the form this blogpost has finally taken: to rectify that error, which we'll talk about -- after:

(1) We deal with the Internet Archive disaster;
and (2) we hear more Mahler songs based on Des Knaben Wunderhorn.


(1) NOW, ABOUT INTERNET ARCHIVE: FINGERS CROSSED
FOR A RETURN TO NORMAL (BUT MORE SECURE) SERVICE
[Feel free to skip this section -- I really had to include it, though. -- Ed.]

You've probably noticed that we haven't had music on Sunday Classics since early October, and that's because essentially all our music is lodged on the indispensable Internet Archive, which describes itself as "a non-profit library of millions of free texts, movies, software, music, websites, and more." The Archive took itself offline in response to massive cyber-assaults beginning Oct. 8-9 (prefigured by lesser attacks in the spring). This update was posted by I.A.'s director of Library Services. (There are numerous links, which you can see in the online posting.)

Internet Archive Services Update: 2024-10-21
Posted on October 21, 2024 by Chris Freeland

Brahms knew, and so did Mahler: Being a for-real functional artistic genius is (gosh!) really hard work

"Mahler's way of thinking in music did not easily conform to the rules of the symphonic scholars. He could not contain himself in the A B A divisions of symphonic form. In this unique first movement he adapted large-scale sonata form to his own power of improvisation. He believed that music should continually grow, phrase by phrase, one section balancing another, by laws not only of musical form as usually obeyed but also by psychological and organic growth and the logic of contrast. . . ."

-- Neville Cardus, in his "Appreciation of Mahler's Third"
[reproduced in part in the last post in this Mahler 3 series]

"This final published version [of the Andante sostenuto of Brahms's First Symphony] is clearly both tauter and richer, for there is less repetition and more diversity, and Brahms has cast fresh light on his themes by bringing them into new relationships. Altogether these changes provide a deeply fascinating insight into genius at work."

-- Robert Pascall, vice chair of the New Complete Brahms Edition (and editor of the symphonies), in his notes for the Mackerras-Teldec Brahms 1

REMEMBER THE VERY DIFFERENT VERSIONS WE'VE
HEARD OF THE ANDANTE SOSTENUTO OF BRAHMS 1?

BRAHMS: Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 68:
ii. Andante sostenuto

► A reconstruction of the "initial performing version":

► And this: the familiar published (i.e., final) version
(which we'll be hearing -- and thinking about -- a lot more!):

Scottish Chamber Orchestra, Sir Charles Mackerras, cond. Telarc, recorded in Usher Hall, Edinburgh, January 1997

WE'LL TALK ABOUT THEM, BUT FOR NOW MIGHT WE HAVE
MAESTRO M. PLAY US ANOTHER SYMPHONIC ANDANTE?

BBC Philharmonic, Sir Charles Mackerras, cond. BBC Music Magazine, recorded live in Bridgewater Hall, Manchester (England), Nov. 16, 2002 (published 2005)

by Ken

It's taken us a long time and a crazy path to get here, "here" being out-the-other-end of the first movement of the Mahler Third Symphony --

OUR CRAZY PATH TO WHEREVER WE ARE NOW:

► "Setting out to trace the lineage of Boston Symphony concert-masters back to 1962, we wind up trapped in the gigantic first movement of the Mahler Third Symphony," July 23

► "Coming momentarily (if not sooner): An adventure in musical metamorphosis -- presented in a pair of mutually accessible parts," Sept. 22

► "Part 1: Marching in anguish, or to triumph, or toward what? In the 1st movement of Mahler 3, we've sure left BrahmsWorld behind!," Sept 23

► "Part 2: Marching in anguish, or to triumph, or toward what? In the 1st movement of Mahler 3, we've sure left BrahmsWorld behind! (Then again, are we so sure?)," Sept. 27

► "Brahms knew, and so did Mahler: Being a for-real functional artistic genius is (gosh!) really hard work," today

BECAUSE THE ANDANTE SOSTENUTO IS SO DEAR TO ME,
THE SC ARCHIVE TEEMS WITH PERFORMANCES OF IT

While we've got another whole group of recordings coming up in this post, for immediate hearing I've plucked out two, from the Brahms symphony cycles I feel closest to, returning to them regularly with tingly expectation that's always rewarded. Kurt Masur's Andante sostenuto and Kurt Sanderling's are different; notably, though Masur sounds in no way rushed, Sanderling sets a still-more-spacious pace, which the Dresden players fill with glowing life. But both draw me back above all because the orchestras have achieved real identification with the music, playing not just with heart-enriching beauty and finesse but with a soul-stirring sense of really living the music, whether in melodic or accompanimental or ensemble writing -- all of it sounded and made to fit together with such fullness and depth and general "rightness" of expression.

(It sobers me to realize that I've been loving the Sandering-Dresden Brahms cycle for something like half a century now, especially enjoying, in the early decades, those beautiful Eurodisc LP pressings.)

Part 2: Marching in anguish, or to triumph, or toward what? In the 1st movement of Mahler 3, we've sure left BrahmsWorld behind! (Then again, are we so sure?)

"[Mahler] could not contain himself in the A B A divisions of symphonic form. In this unique first movement he adapted large-scale sonata form to his own power of improvisation. He believed that music should continually grow, phrase by phrase, one section balancing another, by laws not only of musical form as usually obeyed but also by psychological and organic growth and the logic of contrast. This gargantuan first movement of the Third Symphony is truly well shaped, with natural and inevitable sequences: Chaos at the beginning is changed to cosmos."

-- Neville Cardus, from his "Appreciation of Mahler's Third" (1967),
reproduced in the High Performance CD reissue of the Leinsdorf-BSO M3

Neville Cardus (Apr. 2, 1888 – Feb. 28, 1975; from 1967, Sir Neville), longtime music critic of the Manchester Guardian, had a passion for Mahler which found full expression in his 1965 book Gustav Mahler: His Mind and His Music. His "Appreciation of Mahler's Third," which graced RCA's original LP issue of its 1966 Leinsdorf-Boston Symphony recording, is happily retained in the booklet for the 1999 High Performance CD edition.

MAHLER: Symphony No. 3 in D:
i. Kräftig. Entschieden. (Strong. Decisive.)


Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Rafael Kubelik, cond. DG, recorded in the Herkulessaal of the Residenz, Munich, May 1967
[NOTE: We'll hear this performance deconstructed, then re-constructed]

TO RETURN TO PART 1 OF THE POST, CLICK HERE

INTRODUCTION
by Ken

"Such a movement defies conventional analysis." -- N.C.
[More text follows his commentary on the first movement of M3]

As I explained in Part 1 of this post, the key to our attempt in this double post to make our way through the gigantic first movement of the Mahler Third Symphony is guidance from Mahler super-enthusiast Neville Cardus, which is the first -- and principal -- order of business here in Part 2.

My way into Mahler 3 was one that would hardly have occurred to composers of Mahler's or earlier times, or, really, for several decades after his time: repeated hearings -- via, yes, a sprinkling of live performances, but even more broadcasts, and mostly through recordings.

CASE IN POINT: The earliest Mahler 3 recording is a November 1947 BBC studio job by Sir Adrian Boult