While we wait for the production of splendid new Sunday Classics posts, let's pause for a four-minute miracle

PROBABLY-NOT-BY-HAYDN*: Serenade (ii. Andante cantabile,
from String Quartet in F, Op. 3, No. 5)
[*As I put it in the amended title I assigned when I rejiggered the Internet Archive page for this clip (which we've heard before -- just don't ask me when, unless you really want to know): "Haydn's authorship of the six Op. 3 quartets is much disputed, but the alternate attribution to the monk Romanus Hofstetter is no slam dunk either."]

Yes, it's our old pals the Janáček Quartet (Jiří Trávníček and Adolf Sýkora, violins; Jiří Kratochvíl, viola; and Karel Krafka, cello; recorded May 1963) offering four minutes' worth of musical magic, from one of the most beautiful records I know. (Above we see the original British Decca LP jacket.)

by Ken

MONDAY UPDATE: I mentioned in the original version of this post that I had originally it was going to begin with a course of chatter having to do with how I happened on this subject. This has actually now happened -- see the "ON SECOND THOUGHT" Monday update down below, in the section "NOW, WE WANT TO HEAR THE WHOLE QUARTET, NO?"

All the same, the basic plan remains just to listen, with the proviso that this music -- actually, the entire set of six quartets that came to be known as Haydn's Op. 3 -- probably isn't by Haydn. Or then again, just possibly it is. And then still again, just to complicate things further, for reasons much too arcane to try to go into, it has been plausibly argued that the handy alternative attribution to the monk Romanus Hofstetter is just as unlikely. As far as I know, there the matter stands, and barring some startling document discovery (never out of the question!), we're never going to know any better than we do now!

But for us gathered here today, no matter! This seemingly simple, but in reality extraordinarily tricky, movement from Op. 3, No. 5, the movement that has always commandeered attention directed to the set, and it should already be obvious why: In the whole realm of music I've never heard anything like it. Maybe it's just one violin singing away at its infinitely expanding (and sometimes contracting) little song -- singing all the way through, note, with its mute in place, while the other violin, the viola, and the cello, pluck their fingers away in accompaniment -- is, well, pure magic. It would of course be ridiculously unscholarly to venture that it's too wonderful not to be by Haydn, but of course that argument doesn't have a leg to stand on.

(By the way, as long as we're thinking about that mute the violinist slaps on his instrument, we might note that the composer has done something interesting here. The quartet began in F major, and by using the utterly common device of pitching the second movement in the dominant key it winds up in C major, a pretty happy key tonally -- it practically radiates sunshine, and an especially happy key for string players. Except that the composer has gone and muted his singing violin and taken his playmates' bows away altogether. Really simple, right?)


BUT WAIT, THERE'S STILL MORE TO BE HEARD

"Post tease" afterthought: If you listened to the performances of Suppé's Fatinitza Overture in last week's "post tease," did any particular word come to mind?

I did provide notice in the above-mentioned "post tease" ("Well, why shouldn't we listen to the [at very rough guess] 8th- or 9th-best Suppé overture?") that I'd be asking the above-posed question.

In its day, Suppé's now-largely-forgotten operetta
Fatinitza was a sort of international sensation.

IN CASE IT'D HELP TO HEAR THE PERFORMANCES AGAIN
(THIS TIME WITH SOME COMPACT DESCRIPTIVE NOTES) --

FRANZ VON SUPPÉ: Fatinitza: Overture


Zestful and pungent: Hungarian State Orchestra, János Sándor, cond. From a Hungaroton-Laserlight CD of Suppé overtures

Classy, possibly even elegant: Orchestre symphonique de Montréal, Charles Dutoit, cond. From a Decca CD of Suppé overtures
Frothy, breathless, maybe downright lickety-split: Boston Pops Orchestra, Arthur Fiedler, cond. From the Boston Pops' RCA sequel LP More Classical Music for People Who Hate Classical Music

MAX SCHÖNHERR (arr.): 'Marziale' [i.e., a "martial" or military-ish piece] on themes from the operetta 'Fatinitza'

Always dependably musical: Royal Scottish National Orchestra, Neeme Järvi, cond. From a Chandos super-CD (89 minutes' worth!) of Suppé

by Ken

Before we proceed, I note that on the AllMusic website James Reel has gone to some length to describe the Overture for us. While we may quibble with some of the details ("like a chicken clucking"?), I think we have to applaud the effort.

The shining star of Viennese operetta in the 1860s, Suppé was temporarily eclipsed at the beginning of the next decade by the emergence of the younger Johann Strauss as a stage composer. Suppé returned to public favor in 1876 with Fatinitza, an operetta set during the 1854-1855 Russo-Turkish war; the libretto, ironically, was one of Strauss' rejects. The overture begins sternly, with very subtle hints at both military marches and Turkish music without breaking into either. The main theme here is a little march, almost Tyrolean, that sounds like a chicken clucking. One of Suppé's typically tumultuous transitions leads to quiet but fully Turkish music, complete with triangle. The exoticism falls away almost immediately for a grand, romantic theme, although the Turkish march soon returns in full force, leading to more tumult. Another whimsical march arrives, this one sounding like a Russian folk tune. A transition of conventional operetta chugging leads to yet another march, one worthy of the Strausses; this is the work's sprightly hit tune "Vorwärts mit frischem Muth" ("Forward with renewed courage"), which is sometimes played as a separate concert piece.

Okay, back to business! Did you come up with "a" word for the Fatinitza Overture? Probably mine is obvious by now, so rather than tell you, I'm going to play it for you.


A WORD OF WARNING: ONCE THIS MARCH GETS IN
YOUR HEAD, IT MAY NOT BE EASILY GOTTEN OUT

Post tease: Well, why shouldn't we listen to the (at very rough guess) 8th- or 9th-best Suppé overture?

UPDATED with several additional performances,
including a fourth whole overture!
[Further updated to title the Järvi Fatinitza selection properly]

Don't ask me to dredge up from memory what's going on in Fatinitza as captured in this lithograph; we could all look it up. As to the lithograph itself, the photo viewed at full size tells us that it came from "H. A. Thomas, Lith. Studio, 865 Broadway, N.Y." -- in case you were wondering.

FRANZ VON SUPPÉ: Fatinitza: Overture


Hungarian State Orchestra, János Sándor, cond. Hungaroton

Orchestre symphonique de Montréal, Charles Dutoit, cond. Decca
Boston Pops Orchestra, Arthur Fiedler, cond. RCA

MAX SCHÖNHERR (arr.): "Marziale" on themes from the operetta "Fatinitza"
Royal Scottish National Orchestra, Neeme Järvi, cond. Chandos

MONDAY EVENING UPDATE: There's a "post-tease afterthought" coming up that will ask (and answer) the question: "If you listened to the performances of Suppé's Fatinitza Overture in the official 'post tease,' did any particular word come to mind?" So, thoughts? That post should go up tomorrow (i.e., Tuesday). (Okay, a hint: I'm thinking "rhythm.")

UPDATE: Okay, the "post-tease afterthought" didn't come Tuesday, but it did come: " 'Post tease' afterthought: If you listened to the performances of Suppé's Fatinitza Overture in last week's 'post tease,' did any particular word come to mind?"

by Ken

Just to be clear, I didn't sit down and list Suppé overtures and arrive at a scientifically precise ranking. It's just that awhile ago we had a post that began with Suppé's Poet and Peasant Overture, and I think we can likely agree that it's either the 1st- or 2nd-best Suppé overtures, neck and neck with Light Cavalry (I think that's the correct one-two order, if only because Poet and Peasant just has higher artistic ambitions, but it could depend on which day you ask me, like if maybe I happen recently to have heard an especially upllifting performance of Light Cavalry), and beyond that there are up to a half-dozen that most of us would probably go to before we get to Fatinitza. Nevertheless, the Fatinitza Overture is still a darned nifty piece (how many composers would have loved to compose one such?), and maybe all the more welcome for not being heard as often as the other six or eight Suppé overtures.

So, although as it happens we do have a reason for visiting Fatinitza, we don't need a reason beyond the fact that it is, you know, a really nifty piece, do we? Oh yes, in case you were wondering, there is neither rhyme nor reason to the order of the above performances of Fatinitza. It's just the order in which I drug up the audio files -- with, for once, no particular thinking. We know how thinking tends to lead inexorably to trouble.


AS LONG AS WE'RE HERE, WHY NOT GIVE A FRESH
LISTEN TO POET AND PEASANT AND LIGHT CAVALRY?

Inaugural Edition, no. 6: Fornow, no explanations, just music (that's the theory, anyways): Two operatic chunks, by Debussy and Verdi, that have lodged in my head

Plus, we're going to wind up (think of it as a "bonus"
of sorts) with yet another stupendous operatic scene

[TUESDAY EVENING NOTE: Since initial posting, this piece has undergone variously significant updating scattered all through it, with possibly more to come -- if I get up the courage to wade into the thing.]

You'd think it'd be a snap to find a shot (no pun intended) of the Prison Scene from Don Carlos. Hah! In the spirit of last week's makeshift "Mélisande tower" (which I'm embarrassed to report we're going to be seeing again), I've wound up making do with, you know, "a prison."

VERDI: Don Carlos: Act IV [or III], Scene 2, Death of the Marquis of Posa ("Che parli tu di morte?" . . . "O Carlo, ascolta" . . . "Io morrò, ma lieto in core")

Recitative, "Che parli tu di morte?" -- and surprise!
DON CARLOS [trembling]: Why do you talk of death?
RODRIGO: Listen! Time grows short.
I have turned back onto me the terrible thunderbolt.
Today it's no longer you who are the rival of the king.
The bold agitator for Flanders -- it's I!
DON CARLOS: Who could possibly believe that?
RODRIGO: The proofs are tremendous!
Your papers, found in my possession,
are clear testaments to rebellion,
and on this head for certain
a price has already been set!
[Two men are now seen descending the prison staircase: One of them is dressed in the garb of the Holy Office; the other is armed with an arquebus. They stop for a moment and point out to one another DON CARLOS and RODRIGO, by whom they are unseen.]
DON CARLOS: I will reveal everything to the King!
RODRIGO: No, save yourself for Flanders!
save yourself for the great work that you will have to accomplish.
A new golden age you will cause to be reborn;
you were meant to reign, and I to die for you!
[The bearer of the arquebus now takes aim at RODRIGO and fires.]
DON CARLOS [stupefied]: Heavens! Death! but for whom?
RODRIGO [mortally wounded]: For me!
The vengeance of the king couldn't be delayed!
[Falls into the arms of DON CARLOS]
DON CARLOS: Great God!
Recitative, "O Carlo, ascolta"
RODRIGO: Oh Carlos, listen! Your mother, at San Yust,
tomorrow will expect you -- she knows everything.
Ah! the ground gives way beneath me --
my Carlos, give me your hand --
Aria, "Io morrò, ma lieto in core"
I die, but light of heart,
since I have thus been able to preserve
for Spain a savior.
Ah! do not forget me!
Do not forget me!
You were meant to rule,
and I to die for you!
Ah! I die, but light of heart,
since I have thus been able to preserve
for Spain a savior.
Ah! do not forget me!
Ah! the ground gives way beneath me!
Ah! do not forget me!
Give me your hand . . . give me . . .
Carlos, farewell! Ah! ah!
[RODRIGO dies. CARLOS falls, in despair, on his body.]

["O Carlo, ascolta" at 1:37; "Io morrò" at 2:39] Robert Merrill (b), Marquis of Posa; with Jussi Bjoerling (t), Don Carlos; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Fritz Stiedry, cond. Live performance, Nov. 11, 1950

["O Carlo, ascolta" at 1:29; "Io morrò" at 2:31] Robert Merrill (b), Marquis of Posa; with Giulio Gari (t), Don Carlos; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Fausto Cleva, cond. Live performance, Apr. 4, 1959

by Ken

I mean it: no talking. Or hardly any. Otherwise we'll never get anywhere. (If you read on, you may wonder at the application of this theory. You would be entirely within your rights. No refunds will be available, however. Meanwhile, I'm thinking that if I just go ahead and post this "as is," it'll be sufficiently embarrassing to force me to go back and at least fill in the more obvious gaps. I'm not confident that much can be done with the stuff between the gaps.)

Some other time I can explain how these particular scenes took up lodging in my brain. One of them, as I trust you've noticed, is the Prison Scene from Verdi's Don Carlos (the first scene of Act IV in the original five-act version; of Act III in the truncated four-act one), which I've heard pared down here to just the actual death of Rodrigo, the Marquis of Posa. We're going to be hearing a bunch more times in more proper context: with what precedes it in this scene . . . .


THAT IS, RIGHT AFTER WE HEAR OUR OTHER SCENE,
THE ONE WE BEGAN LISTENING TO LAST WEEK . . .

Inaugural Edition, no. 5: Post tease: Has any operatic act begun more beautifully? (Not to mention suggestively?)

"My long hair descends all the way to the door of the tower"

Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, Pierre Boulez, cond. CBS-Sony, recorded 1970

Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, Ernest Ansermet, cond. Decca, recorded in Geneva's Grand Théâtre, August 1964

by Ken

I can't think of one. And my goodness, doesn't this mere minute's worth of music make you crazy to know what comes next? We're going to find out in today's main post, after we take care of business.

"Ah! I breathe at last!"

George Shirley, tenor; Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, Pierre Boulez, cond. CBS-Sony, recorded 1970

Or, if we allow it some of its proper build-up --

"Ah! I breathe at last!"

Camille Maurane, baritone; Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, Ernest Ansermet, cond. Decca, recorded in Geneva's Grand Théâtre, August 1964


ON FURTHER CONSIDERATION, I GUESS WE COULD
SLIP JUST A TAD FARTHER INTO OUR MYSTERY SCENE

Inaugural Edition, no. 4: It's not just Sarastro who sings to usabout the miraculous restorative powers of the sun's rays

Gurre-Lieder in piano-vocal score -- the piano version prepared, note,
by Alban Berg! (As I'll explain, this isn't the image I'd have liked to use.)

TO REMIND US WHERE WE'RE COMING FROM, HERE ARE
4 "NEW" CLIPS OF OUR CLIMACTIC MAGIC FLUTE MOMENT

SARASTRO: The rays of the sun drive away the night,
destroy the dissemblers' ill-gotten might.

[Performance A]

[Performance B]

[Performance C]

[Performance D]


by Ken

If you've been here before, you've no doubt figured out there's a reason why the performers of Performances A–D have been withheld, and you know all will be revealed. We are, in fact, going to hear this microbit of the final episode of The Magic Flute still unidentified in fuller form -- somewhat fuller, in fact, than we've heard before. (See the immediately preceding installment in this series, "While I toil away at this week's Inaugural-themed post, let's hear the end of The Magic Flute in our five performances -- plus a couple of 'new' ones.")


BEFORE WE GET TO GURRE-LIEDER, LET'S HEAR THE
(NEW) FULLER VERSION OF PERFORMANCES A–D!

Inaugural Edition, no. 3: While I toil away at this week's Inaugural-themed post, let's hear the end of The Magic Flute in our five performances -- plus a couple of "new" ones

There doesn't look to be much sense of danger from this, er, highly decorative band of conspirators: John Easterlin as Monostatos, Kathryn Lewek as the Queen of the Night, and Deborah Nansteel, Sarah Mesko, and Jacqueline Echols as the Second, Third, and First Ladies, as designed by Jun Kaneko in a joint production by five American opera companies, seen here at Washington National Opera in 2014. (Photo by Scott Suchman)

A rocky landscape. Night. The dark-spirited MONOSTATOS has entered stealthily with the QUEEN OF THE NIGHT, accompanied by her THREE LADIES carrying torches. There is thunder, and the sound of water.

MONOSTATOS: But hush, I hear a terrible rushing
like rolling thunder and a waterfall.
THE QUEEN and THE LADIES: Yes, fearful is this rushing,
like the distant echo of thunder!
MONOSTATOS: Now they are in the hall of the temple.
ALL [variously]: There we will fall upon them,
exterminate the pious ones from the earth
with glowing fire and mighty sword.
THE THREE LADIES and MONOSTATOS:
To you, great Queen of the Night,
let our revenge be brought as a sacrifice.
[There is loud thunder and lightning, followed by streaming holiness.]
THE QUEEN, THE THREE LADIES, and MONOSTATOS:
Shattered, destroyed is our might!
We are all plunged into eternal night!
[They sink into the ground.]

Change of scene (without curtain): The Temple of the Sun. SARASTRO stands elevated on an altar, TAMINO and PAMINA in front of him, both in priestly clothing. Beside them the priests of Egypt on both sides. THE THREE BOYS hold flowers.

SARASTRO: The rays of the sun drive away the night,
destroy the dissemblers' ill-gotten might.
CHORUS: Hail to you initiates!
You penetrate the night.
Thanks, thanks, thanks be to you, Osiris!
Thanks brought to you, Osiris!
[Allegro]
Strength conquers and crowns as reward
Beauty and Wisdom with an eternal crown!

Martti Talvela (bs), Sarastro; with Gerhard Stolze (t), Monostatos; Cristina Deutekom (s), Queen of the Night; Hanneke van Bork (s), Yvonne Minton (ms), and Hetty Plümacher (c), Three Ladies of the Queen of the Night; Vienna State Opera Chorus, Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond. Decca, recorded 1969

Samuel Ramey (bs), Sarastro; with Aldo Baldin (t), Monostatos; Cheryl Studer (s), Queen of the Night; Yvonne Kenny (s), Iris Vermillion (ms), and Anne Collins (c), Three Ladies of the Queen of the Night; Ambrosian Opera Chorus, Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, Neville Marriner, cond. Philips, recorded July 1989

Kurt Moll (bs), Sarastro; with Robert Tear (t), Monostatos; Luciana Serra (s), Queen of the Night; Marie McLaughlin (s), Ann Murray (ms), and Hanna Schwarz (ms), Three Ladies of the Queen of the Night; Leipzig Radio Chorus, Staatskapelle Dresden, Colin Davis, cond. Philips, recorded January 1984

Franz Crass (bs), Sarastro; with Friedrich Lenz (t), Monostatos; Roberta Peters (s), Queen of the Night; Hildegard Hillebrecht (s), Cvetka Ahlin (ms), and Sieglinde Wagner (ms), Three Ladies of the Queen of the Night; RIAS Chamber Chorus, Berlin Philharmonic, Karl Böhm, cond. DG, recorded June 1964

Matti Salminen (bs), Sarastro; with Peter Keller (t), Monostatos; Edita Gruberová (s), Queen of the Night; Pamela Coburn (s), Delores Ziegler (ms), and Marjana Lipovšek (c), Three Ladies of the Queen of the Night; Chorus and Orchestra of the Zürich Opera House, Nikolaus Harnoncourt, cond. Teldec, recorded November 1987

by Ken

When last we met ("Post tease: Sarastro sings a mouthful when he sings, 'The sun's rays drive away the night'"), I was presenting the first of my three musical expressions of feelings I felt on Inauguration Day, namely the tiny block of two lines we had heard five notable Sarastros sing this tiny bit of the dénouement of The Magic Flute now heard buried in the above clips from the same five recordings, which we're hearing now in their proper context: the final minutes of Mozart's Magic Flute.

Our starting point last time comes a little after the one-minute mark.)

SARASTRO: The rays of the sun drive away the night,
destroy the dissemblers' ill-gotten might.

Martti Talvela (bs), Sarastro; Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond. Decca, recorded 1969

Samuel Ramey (bs), Sarastro; Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, Neville Marriner, cond. Philips, recorded July 1989

Franz Crass (bs), Sarastro; Berlin Philharmonic, Karl Böhm, cond. DG, recorded June 1964

Matti Salminen (bs), Sarastro; Zürich Opera House Orchestra, Nikolaus Harnoncourt, cond. Teldec, recorded November 1987


WAIT, ISN'T THERE ONE MISSING?
SHOULDN'T THERE BE FIVE CLIPS?

Inaugural Edition, no. 2: Post tease: Sarastro sings a mouthful when he sings, "The rays of the sun drive away the night"

UPDATED WITH AN ALARMING QUANTITY OF POST-POSTING
THOUGHTS ABOUT THE PERFORMANCES WE HEAR HERE

SARASTRO: The rays of the sun drive away the night,
destroy the dissemblers' ill-gotten might.

Martti Talvela (bs), Sarastro; Vienna Philharmonic, Georg Solti, cond. Decca, recorded 1969

Samuel Ramey (bs), Sarastro; Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, Neville Marriner, cond. Philips, recorded July 1989

Kurt Moll (bs), Sarastro; Staatskapelle Dresden, Colin Davis, cond. Philips, recorded January 1984
Franz Crass (bs), Sarastro; Berlin Philharmonic, Karl Böhm, cond. DG, recorded June 1964

Matti Salminen (bs), Sarastro; Zürich Opera House Orchestra, Nikolaus Harnoncourt, cond. Teldec, recorded November 1987

by Ken

As I mentioned in Wednesday's Sunday Classics "Inaugural Edition," I had very powerfully in mind some musical thoughts beyond the two noble marches we listened to, and I mentioned in particular moments from The Magic Flute and Pelléas et Mélisande. Add to that list Schoenberg's Gurre-Lieder, and you've got today's post laid out.


POST-POSTING THOUGHTS ABOUT THE PERFORMANCES
[NOTE (for those who saw my earlier note): The audio clips have now been resequenced to match (I think!) the order of discussion below.]

Inaugural Edition, no. 1: Wanna hear in full the marches we heard in part during today's (pitch-perfect, I thought) inauguration?

Here, as I recall, is pretty much what we heard:
(1)

Concert Arts Symphonic Band, Felix Slatkin, cond. Capitol, recorded 1958
(2)

Morton Gould and His Symphonic Band. RCA, recorded October 1956
[Okay, I backed No. 2 up a bit to hear the lead-in, then let it run to the end.]

by Ken

What a difference two weeks makes! To give credit where it's due, while it's not an eventuality that any sane, decent person would have wished, did you notice how the national conversation changed on January 6 in the aftermath of the SwampMonster's failed coup?

I confess I had no little trepidation approaching the inauguration with its horrifying setting of security-first armed fortification. In the event, however, I could scarcely believe how well-manged it was, given the circumstances. Which was the whole point: The planners and executors took full and accurate account of those circumstances.


FOR NOW, I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE WORTH SHARING
THE WHOLE OF THESE TWO WONDERFUL MARCHES . . .

Polkas for Jocelyn

MIDNIGHT UPDATE: In addition to fleshing out the performance roster for a number of our polkas (like the Bartered Bride one, and all of Johann Strauss Jr.'s trio, and performing incidental touch-ups along the way, we've felt obliged to add yet one last polka, something kind of different, at the end. Still to come, very likely: a polka-taste of Daddy Johann Sr., like perhaps his Beliebte Annen Polka?

TUESDAY FURTHER CONSIDERATION: On second and third thought, I think maybe the way to go is a little appendix-post in the next day or two [or maybe a tad longer -- Ed.] with, yes, some bits of Papa Johann, and also some stray polkas I've been thinking about from beyond the Strauss family orbit. Like I've been listenting to some orchestral Stravinsky and was reminded of his Circus Polka, and there's Rachmaninoff's Polka de W.R., and maybe another miscellaneous polka or two. Stay tuned.

Is there a rousinger polka than this?

It's the finale of Act I of Smetana's The Bartered Bride

VILLAGERS: Come on, girls, let's be merry,
while the band is playing polkas!
Hand in hand and eye to eye,
while the whole world swirls and dances!
The brasses are booming, cimbaloms clanking,
music's blaring all around us!
Everyone is on the move --
we can't stand still and watch!

-- translation by Peter C. Sutro

In this 1981 film directed by František Filip, Prague National Theater forces. including soprano Gabriela Beňačková (Mařenka), tenor Peter Dvorský (Jeník), and bass Richard Novák (Kecal), with the Czech Philharmonic conducted by Zdeněk Košler, dance and sing their way to the end of Act I.

Here it is again, first in a classic recording under a storied Czech composer-conductor, then -- as we've heard it before -- in higher-quality audio with a fine Czech conductor but in German (in which language the opera has an extensive performing history):


Prague National Opera Chorus and Orchestra, Otakar Ostrčil, cond. HMV, recorded in Vienna, June 6-23, 1933

[in German] Bavarian Radio Chorus, Munich Radio Orchestra, Jaroslav Krombholc, cond. Eurodisc, recorded April 1975

by Ken

Here's just the Bartered Bride Polka itself. The performance conducted by the late Jiří Bělohlávek (1946-2017) seems to me a special treat -- he just has the music in his bloodstream.

SMETANA: Polka from The Bartered Bride

New York Philharmonic, Leonard Bernstein, cond. Columbia-CBS-Sony, recorded 1965

Vienna Philharmonic, James Levine, cond. DG, recorded June 1986

Prague Symphony Orchestra, Jiří Bělohlávek, cond. Supraphon, recorded c1980s

There's a fair amount more to say, and of course more to hear, with regard to the dances in Smetana's great comic opera The Bartered Bride, and we'll get to that. First, though, I should explain what we're doing today.

My friend Jocelyn, who's not a classical-music devotee but has heard way more than her share of my whining about the agonies of producing these silly little blogposts, called some days ago to say she'd checked out last week's post ("For the first time ever, this year I went into the Vienna New Year's Concert armed with a listing of the program contents!")
and enjoyed it, thanks principally to its abundance of polkas, which she'd never thought of as concert offerings. Whereas when I think of polka, and I do, a lot, it's almost always in the array of uses composers have put it to.

Mostly unrelated to the pandemic, Jocelyn had a rough week last week, in a rough month, in a rough year, and I was delighted to hear that that blogpost had provided some relief. So my next thought was, I'll bet we've got a pile of polkas sitting idle in the Sunday Classics archive. Maybe I could drag them out for Jocelyn. Maybe even get an easy post out of it.

Well, in my world there doesn't appear to be such a thing as an easy post. Nevertheless, that's basically what we're going to do. More polkas, mostly drawn from the archive.

And, um, stuff.


WHAT SETS -- AND KEEPS -- A BODY IN MOTION MORE
SURELY AND IRRESISTIBLY THAN A GOOD POLKA?

For the first time ever, this year I went into the Vienna New Year's Concert armed with a listing of the program contents!

NOTE: Just so you know, last week's "post tease" has been significantly filled out and filled in. (I sure didn't know going in that along the way we'd wind up having a mini-tribute to Josef Strauss!)

If you watched this year's Vienna New Year's Concert
on PBS, you saw the musical program start like so:

FRANZ VON SUPPÉ: Overture to Poet and Peasant
On Jan. 1, in the hallowed but for obvious reasons audienceless Great Hall of Vienna's Musikverein (seen here via screen cap from the telecast), Riccardo Muti conducts the Vienna Philharmonic in Suppé's ever-inspiriting Poet and Peasant Overture. It sounded more or less like this --

Vienna Philharmonic, Zubin Mehta, cond. Sony, recorded 1989

by Ken

I say it sounded "more or less" like that, because as noted above, while what we're hearing is indeed the Vienna Philharmonic playing Poet and Peasant in the Musikverein, it isn't from New Year's Day 2021 and it isn't conducted by Maestro Muti. As noted, it's from a 1989 Sony recording of Suppé overtures -- and a lovely CD it is! -- conducted by Zubin Mehta (seen here conducting the Israel Philharmonic in 2002). Under the subject heading of "Musical Vienna," Maestro Mehta's story is by no means unrelated to Maestro Muti's. Eventually we'll want to talk about this a little.

Now, you may recall that last week's "post tease" began with a musical question:

What link is there between this celebrated Strauss
polka and the 2021 Vienna New Year's Concert?

In which the famous Strauss polka went like this:


Vienna Philharmonic, Willi Boskovsky, cond. Decca, recorded in the 1960s-70s
[At the same time, we heard performances conducted by Stanley Black, Sir John Pritchard, and Peter Guth, which again you can easily enough check out. As a matter of fact, in a moment we're going to hear yet another.]


BUT FIRST, APOLOGIES (FOR A CHANGE) FOR THE DELAY
IN BEGINNING TO CONSUMMATE LAST WEEK'S POST TEASE

Post tease: What link is there between this celebrated Strauss polka and the 2021 Vienna New Year's Concert?

Even if you watched the concert on PBS Friday, you're
not apt to have any clue how our polka is connected to it

Don't expect him to smile -- polka-writing is serious business!

Hey, everyone, it's polka time! (But then, isn't it always?)


Vienna Philharmonic, Willi Boskovsky, cond. Decca, recorded in the 1960s-70s

London Symphony Orchestra, Stanley Black, cond. Decca Phase-4, recorded in the 1960s

BBC Symphony Orchestra, John Pritchard, cond. BBC Classics, recorded live at "Viennese Night at the Proms," Royal Albert Hall, Aug. 12, 1972

Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Peter Guth, cond. RPO-Intersound, recorded May 1994

by Ken

Mind you, I'm not saying there's a simple, direct connection between our polka and this year's Vienna New Year's Concert. Some of you no doubt recognized it immediately, and some of you may be wringing your hands, saying, "I know that damn polka, which damn one is it?" And some of you may be hearing it for the first time -- I hope you enjoyed it.

If you click through to the continuation of this post tease, it will:

(a) not only clear up the tiny bit of confusion surrounding the identity of our famous polka, but --

(b) provide a more direct link to the 2021 Vienna New Year's Concert -- though as it says above, even if you watched the PBS telecast this is most unlikely to help you at all in establishing the link.

UPDATE: (c) not that it was planned, but we've wound up with a virtual tribute to our polka master, whom we'll regreet in a moment.


DO YOU BELIEVE IN THE OLD SAYING "ONE GOOD POLKA
DESERVES ANOTHER"? SAY HELLO TO OUR POLKA MASTER!