Both of the works by Beethoven in this programme had lengthy gestation periods. For this overture was the fourth that Beethoven had composed for his sole opera “Fidelio”. To make matters more muddled the first overture is confusingly called “Leonore No. 2”. But the opera’s first performance in 1805 was not a success and was withdrawn the following day. Beethoven completely overhauled the opera for the 1806 season, with a new overture (now known as “Leonore No. 3) that met with equal non-success. Undeterred, Beethoven produced another version of the opera (with another overture, now known as “Leonore No. 1”) for a performance in Prague the following year. But that performance did not go ahead and Beethoven was forced back to the drawing board. The opera did not emerge in its final form until 1814 and to celebrate this event Beethoven wrote a new overture, the one you will hear today.

(However, the composer and conductor, Gustav Mahler, so liked “Leonore No. 3” that he would play it before the final scene of the opera and many have followed his example).

The story of the opera itself is very modern. It concerns the fate of a political prisoner. Florestan who has been illegally jailed by the governor, Pizarro. Florestan’s wife, Leonore, goes to his rescue by disguising herself as the youth “Fidelio”. The climax of the opera comes when Pizarro decides to kill Florestan but Fidelio produces a pistol. At that point a trumpet sounds, the dungeon fills with light and the king’s minister arrives, astonished at the imprisonment of his friend, Florestan, and Pizarro is confined in his place.

Although not the most performed, the fifth symphony is certainly the most widely known of Beethoven’s music. But what is the cause of its universal appeal? It is not the tunes, nor is the music trying to describe some transcendental theme. It is just a series of notes yet somehow they seem to speak of the human condition.

Beethoven described the famous opening notes of the symphony as “the blow of fate on the door” and the doubt and uncertainty that follow seem to dominate the rest of the music until dissolved by the triumphant chords of the finale.

How does Beethoven achieve this journey from darkness to light? The most obvious answer is by harmony as the symphony moves from the sombre C minor of the first movement to the bright C major of the finale. (Haydn also used C major when depicting the creation of light in his oratorio “The Creation”). However, the opening notes contain harmonic ambiguity. By playing them without harmony the ear is torn between two possible keys, the C minor of the first subject or the Eb major of the second subject. This doubt is heightened by a rhythmic ambiguity for the symphony begins not with music but a quaver rest, a moment of silence. It is the combination of these two ambiguities that gives the opening movement its relentless driving force.
The “not-so-slow” movement that follows like a calm between the storms is a theme and variations in which Beethoven follows the baroque habit of using faster rhythms for each succeeding variation.

At this point, Beethoven got stuck. For this was meant to have been Beethoven’s fourth symphony, but instead he laid aside the manuscript and wrote a symphony in Bb major that became his actual fourth symphony. Only then did he return to his manuscript and finished the final two movements. To make matters more confusing, the first performance followed the premiere of the Pastoral symphony in the same concert, but because the Pastoral was performed first, that symphony received the label of “the fifth” and our symphony was called “the sixth”.
To return to the present piece, Beethoven next composed a “not-so-jovial” scherzo in which, after a mysterious opening, the horns begin a relentless march. This is interrupted by a Trio in the form of a fugue, begun on some very rumbling ‘cellos and basses. After everyone has had a go at the tune, the mysterious opening returns but now all disjointed until the ‘cellos and violas settle on a pedal C leaving only the drum to beat out the rhythm of the march. Eventually the violins begin quietly to explore the harmonies until they discover a dominant seventh and so, in a big crescendo, introduce C major and the Finale, reinforce by the entrance of the trombones. But all is not plain sailing for the sombre march returns until brushed away by the triumphant chords once more. The music speeds up and the repeated chords at the end are Beethoven emphasising that we have arrived at C major and all that it means and we will not be moved, no matter what fate throws at us.

Poco Sostenuto – Vivace ~ Allegretto ~ Presto – Assai meno presto ~ Allegro con brio

The appearance of Beethoven’s seventh symphony was strangely delayed. For a start, there was a four year gap between the completion of the sixth symphony (the “Pastoral”) and the writing of the seventh. But having finished the symphony on 13th May 1812 it was eighteen months before the work was performed, by which time Beethoven had also completed his eighth symphony.

Various reasons have been put forward for the delay, but there is no doubt that the premiere was a rip-roaring success. The performance on 8th December 1813 was at a charity concert for the wounded from the Battle of Hannau, when Austrian and Bavarian troops tried to ambush Napoleon on his retreat from the battle of Leipzig. (Leipzig was the largest battle of the Napoleonic Wars and his defeat effectively drove Napoleon out of Central Europe).

The charity concert was a grand affair with every musician and composer of note in Vienna taking part. There was Louis Sphor in the violins, Dragonetti on double bass with the drums in the charge of Mozart’s pupil Hummel, and the opera composer Meyerbeer with the young Moscheles on cymbals. To keep the percussion section under control (for Beethoven complained that Meyerbeer was always late in his drum beats), Beethoven’s old teacher, Salieri, was drafted in.

The reason for the large percussion section was not this symphony, which requires only one timpanist, but the performance of Beethoven’s “Battle” symphony that came first. This was written to celebrate Wellington’s victory over the French at Vittoria and contains many sound effects of firing weapons. This was followed by two marches (by Dussek and Pleyel) for a mechanical trumpeter designed by Beethoven’s friend Maezel which could play Austrian and French cavalry marches and signals. Mazael had also made an ear trumpet of Beethoven as well as manufactured the world’s first musical metronome to indicate the speed of the music. (It was later discovered that he had nicked the idea from the Dutchman, Dietrich Nikolaus Winkel). But his largest invention was his Panharmonicon, an early fair ground organ that played practically all the instruments of the orchestra.

The first audience certainly entered into the spirit of the proceedings and encored the second movement of the symphony. This, and a similar concert five days later, raised four thousand florins for the soldiers. Beethoven and his publishers also did well out of the symphony for when it was published it appeared in seven different forms:
1. Full Score
2. Orchestral Parts
3. Arrangement for wind band
4. Arrangement for string quintet
5. Arrangement for piano trio (piano, violin, ‘cello)
6. Arrangement for piano solo
7. Arrangement for piano duet (two pianos)

As for the symphony itself, the first point to notice is its key: A major. For this is the only serious orchestral work by Beethoven in this key. Now the key of a piece of music dictates the scope of the harmony and chords available to a composer. For if you play a chord unrelated to the key of the main tune, the result is harsh and barbaric. But that is precisely what Beethoven does in this symphony, for he spends a lot of time a F major and C major, neither of which are related to A major. Then why does it not sound harsh? This is because although F and C do not occur in the scale of A major (where they are changed to F# and C#), A fits in quite happily in both F major and C major. By using this asymmetric link, Beethoven can travel with ease between these different harmonic worlds.

This is all very clever, but why do it? This is due to something Beethoven learnt from his teacher, Haydn. For certain keys have a certain sound quality: F major is used for rural scenes (as in Beethoven’s sixth symphony, the “Pastoral”); C major sounds confident and complete (as in the finale of Beethoven’s fifth symphony). But if these same harmonies are played in the context of an unrelated key, such as A major, they longer seem pastoral or confident but sound non-substantial and unclear.

Beethoven illustrates the potential of his harmonic scheme in the opening introduction. The first chord, played by all the orchestra, including drums, is A major. But the woodwind gradually drift away from the home key so that by bars 7 and 8 we are already in C and F major. The strings interrupt with semiquavers and endeavour to return to the home key. After three attempts they get there and the orchestra begins again, this time with the violins playing the tune, except that they too end up in C major, so the woodwind take over and play a nice melody in that key. Again the strings interrupt, return the music to E major with the semiquavers, but the strings now end up in F major. Eventually, the introduction ends with the violins, flute and oboe playing solitary E’s, But by now the ear is confused, for it does not know which way the music will jump. Is the E the middle note of the chord of C major? Is it the leading note to F major? But when the music speeds up and the harmony expands, the new jaunty tune of the flute is back in A major.

This tune marks the beginning of the “Exposition” where Beethoven sets out the main themes of the movement. During it, he stays (almost) rigidly in A major. But a series of lurching steps and rests bring this section to an end and Beethoven can start his “Development” of these themes. This is led off by the violins in C major, followed by more variations of the themes in F major. Eventually the music returns to A major for a restatement of the original tunes (the “Recapitulation”). But Beethoven interrupts this with two pauses, after which the oboe leads off with the jaunty tune again.

It was at this point that disaster almost struck during the first performance. Beethoven was conducting, despite being almost totally deaf, and he missed out the second pause. Now his habit of conducting was to crouch down when he wanted quiet, only to jump up in the air when he wanted a loud bang. In this case, he jumped up too early only to look around terrified as he could hear no bang and could see the orchestra still playing softly. It was several bars before they got back together again.

The second movement was the big hit at the first performance but is often played too slow. For the underlying pulse of the symphony is two, to give the music forward momentum. The opening chord of the woodwind should resolve but does not. Instead, the lower strings start a march. This is in fact the accompaniment to the tune which does not appear until 24 bars later. We are now in A minor (the relative minor to C major) and the march is repeated as the tune is taken up by various instruments of the orchestra, with differing rhythmic accompaniment. Suddenly, the music becomes calm and gentle. We have returned to the home key of A major, although it no sounds rather remote. But the march makes it relentless return and the movement ends with the unresolved chord of the beginning.

Curiously enough, Beethoven has deliberately made the movement two bars too short to add to the feeling of uncertainty.

The scherzo of the third movement is very much a peasant’s dance and so is in F major, with the contrasting trio in D major. But the home key is never far away. For during the trio the violins play a sustained A, with the trumpets taking up this role on the second playing of the trio. Furthermore, the opening tune, although starting in F major, ends in A major, only to return straight back to F major on the repeat of the tune.

All this gives us no preparation for the finale. For the opening chord is E (but with no G# played). Again the ear is not quite sure how take this. The next chord introduced a D natural to produce a dominant seventh chord. This should be followed automatically by a chord of A major. Instead, Beethoven carries on with the chord of E major. But the ear knows that the final destination is A major. For most tunes end with a “perfect cadence” or from a chord of the fifth note of the scale to a chord of the first note of the scale, or in our case, from E to A. By delaying the entrance of A major, Beethoven is racking up the tension. In fact, the coda contains an amazing passage when the lower strings get stuck alternating between E and D# for bar after bar whilst harmonic mayhem rages above them. When the A major cadence finally comes it is remarkably swift and the two bar ending is the shortest finish of any Beethoven symphony. On the other hand, he has spent the whole of the finale preparing us for those final two bars.

The tune of the violins of the finale is actually based on an Irish folk song “Nora Creina” that Beethoven orchestrated for a Scottish publisher as a way of raising pocket money.

The score of this symphony was acquired by Mendelssohn after Beethoven’s death.

Berlioz once claimed that the only instrument that he could play was the guitar and that badly. This rather hides the fact that Berlioz was one of the best orchestraters and had a profound knowledge of singing. When he was a struggling student, Berlioz applied for a post in the chorus of the Opèra Comique. Everyone came prepared with their party piece except Berlioz. When it came to his turn, he explained that he had no music, but if the committee would name any aria, he would undertake to sing ti form memory. So the committee spent the rest of the day trying to find a song that Berlioz did not know. Needless to say they failed and Berlioz got the job.

These six songs were originally written for voice and piano, being settings of poems by Gautier. Then in 1856, Berlioz decided to orchestrate them. Song cycles for solo voice and orchestra are not common because of the difficulties of balance. Berlioz overcomes these problems with panache.

The six songs are:
1. Villanelle – this is a sixteenth century style pastoral poem and dance of three verses.
2. Le Spectre de la Rose – The rose worn at the ball is dead but is grateful for the dance
3. Lagoons – elegy for the dead beloved whilst her lover sails away distraught
4. Absence – a song of yearning for the absent beloved
5. At the Cemetery – A dove sings above a tomb whilst the dead soul below joins in. The poet consequently vows never again to go near that particular tomb after dark!
6. The Unknown Isle – A ship, ready to sail, asks a beautiful lady where she wishes to go. She answers, “to the faithful shore where love lasts for ever.”

This symphonic sketch was originally intended to form part of the 25th anniversary celebrations of Alexander II, in 1880. Various composers were asked to each provide some music which reflected an aspect of Alexander’s reign and although the project was eventually scrapped, this piece survives.

Borodin wrote a note as a preface to the score which, perhaps best describes the music: "In the silence of the monotonous steppes of Central Asia is heard the unfamiliar sound of a peaceful Russian song. From the distance we hear the approach of horses and camels and the bizarre, melancholy notes of an oriental melody. A caravan approaches, escorted by Russian soldiers, and continues safely on its long way through the immense desert. It disappears slowly. The notes of the Russian and Asiatic melodies join in a common harmony, which dies away as the caravan disappears into the distance."

String harmonics, haunting woodwind solos and triumphant bell-like passages combine to form this fleeting musical tableau.

As a young boy, Bottesini studied the violin, but when his father applied to attend the Milan conservatory, the only remaining scholarships were for bassoon and double bass. Bottesini rapidly learnt the latter and gained a place to study with Luigi Rossi.

The maestoso theme returns, this time with a new slower second theme which allows the violin to shine with extensive use of double stopping. A long development section builds up the tension for the dazzling conclusion where virtuosic flageolet harmonics abound.

Allegro Moderato ~ Andante ~ Allegro

Bottesini, like many Italian composers, grew up in Italian Opera. His father was a clarinetist in the theatre orchestra in Crema and young Bottesini’s first musical engagement was playing the drums in his father’s orchestra. In the meantime he had taken up the violin, but when he came to apply to study at the Milan Conservatory he discovered that there were only vacancies for the bassoon and the double bass. Well, the choice was obvious and he rushed home to try out the theatre’s double bass. A few weeks later he was back in Milan with his new instrument and passed the audition with flying colours.

His public debut, in 1849, was a sensation and a European tour, including London, ensued. But Bottesini was more than just a brilliant player, he also composed. In addition to numerous works for the double bass he wrote several operas. He also became a revered musical director of various opera houses, including the Lyceum Theatre in the Strand. He was a life-long friend of Verdi and in 1871 conducted the first performance of Aida (in Cairo) to celebrate the opening of the Suez Canal.

The New Groves Dictionary of Music says, “His double bass compositions are seldom performed on account of their great difficulty.” This concerto is no exception.
To find out more about Bottesini, try www.bottesini.com.

First performed in 1881, the Academic Festival Overture was written for the University of Breslau in appreciation of the honorary degree conferred on him in 1879.   Although Brahms did not attend the ceremony, the award cited him as, ‘First among contemporary masters of serious music’, wording which brought a direct attack from Wagner, one of a more radical group of composers.  Brahms’ homage to student life was clearly demonstrated by the ‘tongue in cheek’ use of a well known student drinking song (Gaudeamus Igitur) at the climax of the piece.

AS

(i) Un poco sostenuto~Allegro  (ii) Andante sostenuto (iii) Un poco Allegretto e grazioso  (iv) Adagio~Allegro non troppo, ma con brio

The third movement has little in common with the conventional symphonic scherzo, expressing feelings of satisfaction and contentment.  It ends almost hanging in the air, with a chord in the winds, leading us into the monumental final movement. 
Immediately the dense, powerful world of the first movement surrounds us again: terrified violins rush around, the winds burst out with passion and suddenly a timpani roll storms forth and drowns everything.  Out of this chaos a horn melody emerges, like a benediction: a chorale with trombones (held strategically in reserve for this movement) follows.  The ensuing allegro begins immediately with the main theme.  In its shape and character, this melody is almost certainly a conscious reference to the "Ode to Joy" from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony: Brahms is continuing to communicate the ideals and aspirations of his predecessor. 

In 1853, on a tour as accompanist to the Hungarian violinist Eduard Reményi, Brahms met a violinist named Joseph Joachim. Joachim was a teenager like Brahms and they became lifelong friends.

Joachim gave the first public performance of finished work in 1879 in Leipzig and the concerto is now established as one of the greatest representatives of the virtuoso Romantic tradition.

Max Bruch’s name will always be associated with his G minor Violin Concerto in the minds of the listening public and in Classic FM’s “Hall of Fame”. Yet he wrote many other works for orchestra including two further violin concertos, the Scottish Fantasy and a splendid double concerto for Viola and Clarinet. Most of Bruch’s music, however, was written for the voice, especially operas and oratorios. He was even responsible for reviving the Cantata as a musical form.

This concerto was written in 1865 and received its first performance in the following year in Koblenz. But Bruch was not entirely satisfied with the composition and submitted it to the great violinist Joachim for comments. Joachim, however, liked the concerto so much that he agreed to premiere the revised concerto, which he did in Bremen in 1867, and Bruch dedicated the concerto to him in gratitude.

The concerto begins with a quiet drum roll and after some woodwind chords the solo violin enters on a low G but soon plays a rising arpeggio. The whole orchestra then enters and the solo replies with another soaring run. The orchestra responds and the concerto begins. The first movement is rhapsodic in nature, full of swooping passages for the soloist until the orchestra decide to take over. Then the opening returns and the movement quietly merges into the Adagio of the famous slow movement. The Finale, however, is marked “with energy” and is a showcase of what the violin (and the violinist) can do.

Max Bruch’s music was very popular in Britain and in 1893 he was awarded an honorary doctorate in music by Cambridge University, along with Grieg, Saints Saëns and Tchaikovsky. Bruch’s music also became very popular in America, due to the efforts of two sisters. They had promised Bruch that they would promote his concerto in the States and to this end borrowed the manuscript. This they used not only for their performances but also to publish the concerto in America, and so claim the North American copyright for themselves but, sadly, not for Bruch himself.

When Bruch died, his tombstone was inscribed with the words “Music is the language of God”

Buckaroo Holiday ~ Corral Nocturne ~ Saturday Night Waltz ~ Hoe Down

The second scene, set at the ranch opens with the ‘Saturday Night Waltz’ and shows couples dancing at the ranch house. The cowgirl is still dressed in her work clothes and no one offers to dance with her. When she sees the head wrangler dancing cheek to cheek with the rancher’s daughter, she runs off the stage. Shortly, she returns, transformed into the prettiest girl at the dance in a dress, with a bow in her hair. The cowboys vie for her attention, and even the head wrangler asks her to dance. She turns them down in favour of the one cowboy who showed her some kindness in the opening scene (‘Hoe Down’).

Allegro con brio ~ Adagio ~ Allegretto grazioso ~ Allegro ma non troppo

The introduction to the work is a solemn passage in the minor key which is immediately dispelled by a flute melody, suggesting a musical painting of birdsong which, in turn, ushers in something earthier and more robust.  This procedure of making something solemn give way to a more joyful spirit also turns up again in the Finale and is inherent in little rhythmic touches which undercut the more reserved nature of the slow movement.  It has been suggested that the third movement, a sort of slow folk waltz, could be one of Dvorak’s loveliest melodies.

Franck's Symphony was given its first performance on 17th February, 1889 : it was a monumental failure ! Gounod called it, "the affirmation of impotence carried to the point of dogma", and the professor at the Conservatoire asked, "Whoever heard of a cor anglais in a Symphony ? Call it what you will, it will certainly never be a Symphony !". Little did this eminent academic know that Haydn had used two of the instruments in his 22nd Symphony.

The work opens with a questioning figure. Again and again, with rising insistence, the orchestra repeats this figure, until we come to the Allegro proper, when it is transformed into an energetic, thrusting main theme. The turbulent development, full of yearning resolves into a soaring melody, and the rest of the movement is taken up with the conflict between these two moods. At the last the solemn question returns, to be answered with glorious certainty.

The second movement, marked Allegretto, opens with the soft plucking of harp and strings. Rising above this comes the melancholy song of the cor anglais, The middle part of the movement lets through a gleam of sunshine, though, with a more relaxed and carefree atmosphere.

The third and last movement, Allegro non troppo, is festive music, full of great themes, the most important of which is heard at the outset. There are hints of melancholy here and there, with nuances of the earlier questing, but they soon give way to reassurance and solid strength. The sad song of the central movement is transformed into an aria of pure joy, and the ultimate conclusion or the whole Symphony is marked by total triumph.

Only someone who has attained the highest creative maturity could have achieved such monumental tautness and austerity : and despite its initial rejection, the work has came to stand, deservedly, as one of the most celebrated and popular compositions in all symphonic music.

When he began to compose this work in the summer of 1925, Gershwin originally entitled the piece ‘New York Concerto’, but changed it in favour of the simpler one we now recognise. He was a little disappointed at the mixed reception which greeted it’s first performance and some were critical of ‘structural deficiencies’ in the piece.

The first movement uses the rhythm of the Charleston, which was at the height of popularity in the late 1920’s. There is a definite ‘blues’ theme to the second movement, encapsulated especially by the sleepy trumpet solo. The final Allegro Agitato is a ‘romping rondo’.

Morning ~ Ases Death ~ Hall of the Mountain King

In the year 1874, the thirty year old Norwegian composer Grieg received a letter from his country’s most famous playwright, Henrik Ibsen. In it he was asked if he would provide some music for “Peer Gynt”. This was a dramatic poem that Ibsen had written seven years earlier but now wished to transform into a play. Grieg was honoured with the request but found it hard to comply. In August of that year, he wrote:
It is a dreadfully intractable subject, certain passages excepted. I’ve made something of the Old Man’s palace in the mountains, which I literally cannot bear to listen to, it stinks so of cow-dung and Norwegian insularity and self-sufficiency! But I think people will sense the irony behind it, especially where Peer says, “Both the dance and the music were really splendid. May the cat claw me if I lie!”

A month later he wrote to the same friend, calling the play “this most unmusical of subjects”. However the final outcome was a great success and Ibsen generously acknowledged that this was due more to the music than to the play.
The play begins with Peer Gynt as a young man, full of wild tales and impulsive acts. But then he goes too far and at the end of Act One he kidnaps a bride on the eve of her wedding. In Act Two Peer Gynt, banished from his village, meets the Old Man of the Mountain whose troll daughter he agrees to marry but only on condition that Peer becomes like a troll himself. The music starts and a grotesque dance begins, which Peer calls “a cow with a harp and a dancing sow” until reminded that this is not a very troll-like sentiment. Then the King of the Mountain attempts to “correct” his eyesight so to see bad as good. At this Peer Gynt tries to flee but the trolls turn angry until he is saved by the sound of church bells.
In Act Three Peer Gynt is sought by Åse, his mother, and the maiden Solveig. But Peer only comes when his mother is already dying. He tries to cheer her up with childish tales but it is too late. Solveig agrees to join Peer in the wilderness but he flees saying that he will return.
Acts Four and Five cover the journeys of Peer Gynt. He is now rich, having made money by applying the trolls motto “I’m all right, Jack”. Morning finds Peer in Morocco where he is greeted as a prophet and among his following is the slave girl Anitra who dances for him. After many adventures he returns to Norway, an old man, to be faced by death and judgment on his selfish life. But Solveig is still waiting for him and through her he finally learns the meaning of self-denying love.

Of course, being Ibsen, there is a lot more to the play than is given here. For more about Ibsen, try www.ibsen.net (clicking on the Union Jack for the English version), or just sit back and enjoy the music.

Allegretto

In 1794, Haydn set out on his second visit to London.  Six new symphonies had been commissioned for a concert season, and of these, symphony 100 in G major was played at the eighth concert on 31st March.  The Grand Military Overture, as the new work was described, started with a slow introduction followed by an Allegro.   Today we are only performing the second movement, a C major Allegretto.  This movement helps to give the symphony its name, as it includes a military battery of kettle drums, percussion and a trumpet fanfare.