Gershwin/Price Program Notes

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840 - 1893 )

Polonaise from Act III of the opera Eugene Onegin

5 minutes

Composer: Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (Born in Kamko-Votinsk, Russia in 1840; Died in St. Petersburg in 1893)

Work composed: 1877

World premiere:  The premiere occurred on March 29, 1879 in Moscow at the Maly Theatre, conducted by Nikolai Rubinstein.

Instrumentation: 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, percussion (bass drum, cymbals, triangle), strings

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Polonaise from Act III of the opera Eugene Onegin

By the second half of the Nineteenth Century, Russian art culture was in full bloom after centuries of isolation from both Western and Eastern culture. Within the span of just a few decades, literature, art, and most amazingly, music and opera, burst forth with masterpieces that have remained cherished ever since. In literature came the novels, plays and poems of Dostoyevsky, Gogol, and Pushkin. In music came Rimsky-Korsakov, Rachmaninoff, Mussorgsky, and Tchaikovsky. And in a true ripening of Russian identity, these new works of music and literature fed off each other. Such was the case of the opera Eugene Onegin by Tchaikovsky that he completed in 1877, based on the 1833 verse-novel by his near contemporary, Alexander Pushkin.
 
Though we know Tchaikovsky best for his orchestral works, most notably his symphonies and concertos, he longed to be celebrated as an opera composer, creating 11 operas. Of these, his three most successful were all based on Pushkin’s works: Eugene Onegin, Mazeppa, and The Queen of Spades. What makes Eugene Onegin Tchaikovsky’s most successful opera is the very vehicle that makes Pushkin’s verse-novel such a masterpiece: both are built from a series of many scenes depicting various moments in Onegin’s life, less concerned with plot than with the storytelling, and together they create a poignant canvas of the human condition. In the opera, this formula of many short scenes in three acts allows Tchaikovsky to add frequent instrumental interludes, and some of the richest moments in the opera come from the purely musical moments. Without the voice, Tchaikovsky explores the unspoken psychological depths of the story. The Polonaise is one of those wonderfully rich moments.
 
The 1800’s-era tale narrates the life and fate of the Russian dandy, Eugene Onegin. The fiancée of Onegin’s friend has a rather country-ish, unsophisticated sister, Tatyana, who fancies Onegin so much as to go against all societal etiquette and declare her love for Onegin in an impassioned letter. At the heart of the story lies Onegin’s  disillusionment with life. Not understanding himself, his emotions, or the value of life, Onegin rejects Tatyana, and flirts instead with his friend’s fiancée. A duel ensues leaving the friend dead, Tatyana devastated, and Onegin having to flee the country for years. When he eventually returns, he finds himself at a very high-society grand ball in St. Petersburg, where the wife of a prince captures his heart. She turns out to be Tatyana, now elegant, mature, and nobly married. Onegin tries to win her back, but to no avail; the tides have finally turned upon his arrogance and ignorance.
 
From Pushkin’s narrative, “She went – and Eugene, all emotion, stood thunder-struck. In what wild round of tempests, in what raging ocean his heart was plunged!” (Verse XLVIII; translated by Charles H. Johnston).
 
In a tragic instance of life imitating art, Tchaikovsky found himself trapped in a parallel narrative while writing Onegin in 1877. Though he declared he was not the least bit in love with her, and knowing himself to be homosexual, Tchaikovsky reluctantly or perhaps impetuously, nonetheless married Antonina Miliukova. She was a former student, and Tchaikovsky acquiesced to marriage after receiving from her an impassioned letter declaring her undying love for him. The ill-conceived nuptials lasted for all of several weeks before Antonina was abandoned for life – Tchaikovsky fled town and was overcome with a nervous breakdown so severe he was unconscious for two weeks. The unhappy couple never saw each other again. Astonishingly, when Tchaikovsky came to his senses in the spring of 1878, in Clarens, Switzerland, his reserves of musical genius were stirred so feverishly that he soon completed this opera, Eugene Onegin, as well as Symphony No. 4, and his extraordinarily ebullient Violin Concerto. With regards to his opera, it seems ironic that Tchaikovsky claimed he related most closely to Tatyana – but perhaps like Onegin, Tchaikovsky could not yet grapple with his own emotions or actions.
 
Onegin’s Polonaise, so full of grandeur and beauty, seems to Onegin’s impending denouement to, and to mask Tchaikovsky’s own personal tragedies. The scene of the grand ball begins in Act III with Tchaikovsky’s joyous Polonaise, a folk-dance form native to Poland that by the Nineteenth Century had become an art form in the parlor and the concert hall, and particularly became associated with magisterial ceremony. It’s a brilliant piece for its operatic moment. The opening fanfare-ish main theme accompanies the regal and glamorous couples entering into the center of the Ballroom for all to admire, the feeling of jubilance and entitlement palpably fresh. The more reflective middle section allows for Onegin to wistfully admire Tatyana from afar – the glances, the smiles, the demure rejections. As a piece unto itself, its splendid melodies and brimming energy – those talents for which Tchaikovsky was so uncannily gifted – has made the Polonaise as much a success as the opera itself.
 
 
George Gershwin (1898 - 1937)

Concerto in F for Piano and Orchestra

32 minutes

Composer: George Gershwin (Born in Brooklyn, NY in 1898; Died in Hollywood, CA in 1937)

Work composed:
1925, on commission by conductor Walter Damrosch and the New York Symphony Orchestra

World premiere: The Concerto premiered on December 3, 1925 – the solo piano part performed by Gershwin himself, with the New York Symphony Orchestra (soon to become the New York Philharmonic) conducted by Walter Damrosch.

Instrumentation: solo piano, 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, bass clarinet, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion (bass drum, glockenspiel, xylophone, triangle, snare drum, woodblock, whip, cymbals, (crash & suspended), triangle, gong), strings

Concerto in F for Piano and Orchestra
               I. Allegro
              II. Adagio – Andante con moto
             III. Allegro agitato

George Gershwin

American composer George Gershwin’s life is an archetypal American rags-to-riches story whose music dramatically changed the course of American music to follow. Born to Russian Jewish immigrants in Brooklyn, Gershwin grew up in a crowded, small home with three siblings and one piano, where money and opportunity were tight. Having quickly mastered the piano, young Gershwin dropped out of school at 15 to work in the music-churning neighborhood known as Tin Pan Alley, where he was one of dozens of pianists selling songs for music publishers. While “plugging” songs for performers at the Alley, he continued his musical studies and composing, dreaming of making it big. By his early 20’s he had found some success with his own works on Broadway, and then, at the age of 26, Gershwin “arrived” with his 1924 Rhapsody in Blue for Piano and Orchestra.

With Rhapsody in Blue (1924), Gershwin not only “brought jazz into the concert hall,” but fundamentally opened up a brand-new way of composing for American classical composers. Rhapsody made Gershwin world famous, and to this day it remains the iconic American piece that fused classical and jazz elements together successfully for the first time. The great conductor Walter Damrosch of the New York Symphony Orchestra was present at Gershwin’s premiere of his Rhapsody in Blue and immediately commissioned him for another piano concerto with his orchestra. With already three commitments for Broadway shows lined up, Gershwin got to the commission as soon as he could. And it was the beginning of an extremely exciting time for Gershwin, as his talents and the world seemed filled with endless possibilities, both on Broadway and on classical music stages. The work, his Concerto in F, was completed and premiered in 1925 at Carnegie Hall, conducted by Damrosch and the solo part performed by Gershwin. The work was an enormous success and has remained consistently popular in concert halls around the world. But it was an important work as well, not only for Gershwin’s blooming career, but for jazz. As Damrosch colorfully said:

“Various composers have been walking around jazz like a cat around a plate of soup, waiting for it to cool off so that they could enjoy it without burning their tongues… Lady Jazz …has danced her way around the world … but for all her travels and sweeping popularity, she has encountered no knight who could lift her to a level that would enable her to be received as a respectable member of musical circles. George Gershwin seems to have accomplished this miracle … boldly by dressing his extremely independent and up-to-date young lady in the classic garb of a concerto. … He is the Prince who has taken Cinderella by the hand and openly proclaimed her a princess to the astonished world…”

The very first notes of the Concerto come, surprisingly, from the timpani and percussion, with some brief salvos in the upper winds, loudly playing a rhythmic motive that will infuse the rest of the work. That the Concerto opens with the timpani shows us Gershwin’s notion of the work as “representing the young enthusiastic spirit of American life” – bold and certain. The orchestra then begins playing an upbeat and toe-tapping Charleston dance. When the piano enters, though, everything suddenly becomes soft and bluesy – just solo piano in a quiet mood playing a theme made of sweet jazz riffs, like an easy little cadenza. The movement moves forward like this, dancing in and out of jazz-infused moments with big, sweeping romantic moments, never settling, just simply moving onward. And as the movement progresses, the piano solo becomes increasingly dazzling. The ending section is particularly exciting, as it races through all the motives and themes of this movement in quick succession, like images on a movie screen.

The second movement, Adagio – Andante con moto (slowly – then a little faster), was described by Gershwin: “The second movement has a poetic, nocturnal atmosphere which has come to be referred to as the American blues, but in a purer form than that in which they are usually treated.” Indeed, a lone trumpet sings a bittersweet bluesy serenade against a few strings and a few winds, conjuring a dimly lit juke house with cigarette smoke lingering in the air. When the piano finally joins the crowd, about three-and-a-half minutes later, the tempo picks up and the mood lightens, and the upper strings take to strumming their instruments like tiny guitars. Soon after, the piano drifts into a dreamy little cadenza – the beautiful thing about it is how Gershwin doesn’t give it measures of showiness, but rather, it’s as if Chopin were there in the jazz house singing to his piano – so classically minded in its jazzy riffs. Although this movement will subsequently give several nods to Broadway bravura, it ends with a sentimental whisper.

The final movement, Allegro agitato (fast and agitated), was explained by Gershwin as this: “The final movement reverts to the style of the first. It is an orgy of rhythms, starting violently and keeping to the same pace throughout.” But there is plenty of fun and lyricism in it as well. From the very beginning, a motive of a rapidly-repeated note ending in a syncopated little flourish – sounding particularly exciting on the piano keys – recurs frequently throughout. Listen at about four minutes into the movement when the xylophone plays this motive in a delightful duet with the piano. The soloist must now be immensely fleet of fingers in this finale, and as Gershwin said, the energy and drive is almost unabating. When the solo tam-tam (large gong) smashes, the Concerto moves into its closing section by recalling the rhythmic timpani motive that began the first movement, and this brilliant Concerto comes to its rousing final bars.

Florence Price (1887 - 1953)

Symphony No. 1 in E minor

40 minutes

Composer: Florence Price (Born in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1887; Died in Chicago in 1953)

Work composed: 1931 – 1932 – the Symphony was entered in the Rodman Wanamaker Competition (of the Philadelphia Department store, famous for its grand organ, in February 1932, along with three other concert works that she composed. The Symphony in E minor won the first-place $500 prize for a symphonic work.

World premiere: The Symphony was premiered by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra on June 15, 1933, in Chicago at the Auditorium Theatre. It was the first symphony composed by an African-American woman to be performed by a major American symphony orchestra.

Instrumentation: 2 piccolos, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion (bass drum, cymbals, celesta, “Cathedral Chimes” (this is typically performed on tubular bells), triangle, large African drum, small African drum, glockenspiel, wind whistle [for sound effects], snare drum), strings

Symphony No. 1 in E minor
          I.   Allegro (ma) non troppo
         II.   Largo – Maestoso
        III.   Juba Dance – Allegro
       IV.   Finale – Presto

Florence Price

Born in Arkansas, Florence Price was a gifted pianist from a young age and her mother resultingly enrolled her at the New England Conservatory for college. At New England, Price studied piano, organ and composition with some of the leading teachers in America – but had to “pass” as a Mexican to avoid the racism that permeated the Classical music world. After graduating Conservatory, she had a brief collegiate teaching career, but soon returned to Arkansas and began a family life. In 1927, however, another brutal lynching in Little Rock persuaded Florence, her husband, and two children to move north to Chicago as part of the “Great Migration” of Black Americans fleeing oppression in the South. In Chicago’s south side, the Black Chicago Renaissance was awakening, with the likes of Louis Armstrong and Mahalia Jackson, and to this musical community, Price brought her Southern Black cultural grounding infused with her Classical music education.

In Chicago, Price’s career took off, and for the first time in her life, she found she could celebrate her cultural identity both in public life and in her music. Early on, she forged a great friendship with Margaret Bonds, renowned for her great settings of Black Spirituals, which led to collaborations with poet Langston Hughes and Marian Anderson. Although already busy as a concert pianist, organist, teacher and composer, in 1931 Price entered a national composition competition hosted by the Rodman Wanamaker Prize (of the Philadelphia Department Store fame and home of the “great” organ). She confided, “I found it possible to snatch a few precious days in the month of January in which to write undisturbed. But, oh dear me, when shall I ever be so fortunate again as to break a foot!” Price was awarded the top prize in 1932 for her submission of her Symphony in E minor. The work soon was championed and performed by the Chicago Symphony, and Price is now known as the first Black American woman to have written a symphony as well as to have one performed by a major American Orchestra.

The opening of the first movement, Allegro (ma) non troppo (fast, but not too much), presents a beguiling theme for solo bassoon over pulsing strings. Several moments in this Symphony, and in this first movement especially, evoke the musical power of Black Spirituals. But Price is not being unoriginal – her gifts for melody were deep and rich, and the references are clearly an homage to her people and culture. Even more prevalent, however, are her use of the idioms common to jazz. The movement has equal moments of melting beauty and exultation suffused with Price’s skill in creating constantly alluring orchestral colors.

Movement two, Largo, is a marvel of invention that builds on the beloved genre of Southern Protestant church hymns. A full brass ensemble, evoking the pipes of a church organ, performs the “Call” and a quiet group of winds relays the “Response.” Notice, too, the percussion: Price scores for “African” drums (generically, these are wooden-framed drums with a calf-skin head, with only general pitches – “low” and “high”), cleverly mingling cultural sounds, and then she scores the colorful sounds of chimes and orchestral bells to bring the work fully into the pews. After a rousing “altar call” climax, the movement ends in a sublime hush, first with solo clarinet, then cello.

The third movement, Juba Dance, is a clever substitution for the typical dance movement of the symphonic structure (such as the Menuetto in Mozart’s day and the Scherzo in Beethoven’s day). The Juba was well known to Black Americans – before Emancipation, antebellum slave owners feared that enslaved peoples would use drums to transmit secret, subversive codes, and therefore drums were banned. Instead, Black Americans created a dance, which came to be known as the Juba, that used body slapping and stomping to supply the rhythms for the dancers. Price’s Juba is, naturally, full of kinetic, but gentle, energy. Instead of stomping and slapping thighs, cheeks and chests, Price uses real drums (and this irony would not have been missed in the 1930’s). The pizzicato (plucked) string accompaniment gives the sense of some fine quick stepping, and because the dance was traditionally performed at a gathering, Price uses a slide whistle (which she called a ”wind whistle”) to approximate the excited rowdiness of the onlookers. The dance is jaunty and an absolute delight to hear.

The Finale is a Mercury-footed whirlwind of energy. Although it begins and ends in the minor key, it’s a thrilling and joyful conclusion to this wonderful Symphony. The main theme is a Spiritual-sounding melody that continues to return and give the movement a sense of urgency, such that, in the final bars, we’ve come to the edge of our seats.

The Symphony’s 1933 premiere was called by the Chicago Daily News’s music critic “a faultless work, a work that speaks its own message with restraint and yet with passion… worthy of a place in the regular symphonic repertoire.” But after Price’s early death in 1953 due to a stroke, her works were soon all but forgotten. In 2009, however, a huge number of her manuscripts were found in her abandoned summer home outside of Chicago. This treasure trove was a great help in rediscovering this truly gifted American original, and you’ll hear why many more of her works are coming to the concert hall.

© Max Derrickson