"Certain musical works seem to have careers of their own, independent of those of their authors. For several years after it was written, conductors programmed Music for the Theatre more frequently than any other piece of mine. I suspect that this was partly because of the jazz content in several of the movements.
Music for the Theatre was written with no specific play in mind. It had started with musical ideas that might have been combined as incidental music to a play, were the right one at hand. The music seemed to suggest a certain theatrical atmosphere, so I chose the title after developing the ideas into five short movements."
This introduction to Music for the Theatre by Aaron Copland (1900-1990) himself can be amplified only by mentioning that Serge Koussevitzky commissioned the work for the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and that it was written and premiered in 1925. This was the height of the Jazz Age, a year following the premiere of George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue (though there is little connection between Gershwin's idea of jazz and Copland's).
Describing the Prologue, the composer writes,
"It begins rather suddenly with a trumpet solo, followed by a tenderly lyrical passage leading into an allegro middle section with obvious jazz influence before a return to the lyrical material."
The second movement, Dance, is the jazziest part of the suite. Amid shifting polyrhythms, the composer gives the listener 'hot blues breaks' on the clarinet and muted trumpet, complete with blue notes, ostinato 'riffs' and a quotation from The Sidewalks of New York.
The reflective Interlude is based on a single melody heard three times with 'slight alterations'. Noteworthy is the colorful accompaniment by strings, piano, and glockenspiel.
"Burlesque could be described as a 'jazz scherzo'." Copland writes that the movement emphasizes another characteristic of the twenties - the love of grotesquerie achieved by a liberal use of harmonic dissonance. It was partly inspired by the popular comedienne Fanny Brice. The Epilogue incorporates material from the first and third movements. In Copland's words, "The quiet mood of the Prologue is recaptured and the work ends pianissimo."
In the years following his graduation from the Curtis Institute, Samuel Barber (1910- 1981) spent time travelling and composing in Europe under various stipends and grants. Between 1935 and 1937 he won the Prix de Rome and two Pulitzer Travel Scholarships. Barber worked on the development of his orchestral style during his European residencies. His First Symphony, completed in Rome, was premiered by the Cleveland Orchestra in 1937. Arturo Toscanini, whom Barber had met in 1935, premiered both his First Essay for orchestra and the Adagio for Strings on a program three years later.
The Violin Concerto also originated in Europe. In the summer of 1939 Barber began work on it in a small Swiss village. Before the end of summer he moved to Paris, where he hoped to finish the work. However, Americans were soon warned to leave the French capital because of the threat of war, so Barber returned to the United States with only the first two movements. A wealthy patron had commissioned the concerto for a young virtuoso. When the violinist reviewed the two complete movements, reportedly he declared them too simple. Barber promised to give him a more challenging, virtuosic finale. Before that movement was completed, however, a controversy arose between the violinist and Barber concerning the music, possibly placing the commission in jeapardy. The upshot was the violinist's dismissal from the project. The premiere was given in 1941 by Albert Spalding and the Philadelphia Orchestra.
Barber's Violin Concerto has been termed a pivotal work in his style development. The first two movements could be called the culmination of his 'neo-Romantic' period of the 1930s. His gift for flowing lyricism can be heard right from the first theme announced by the violin. The rhythmic second theme, introduced by the clarinet, is picked up and embellished by the violin and orchestra. In place of a traditional soloist's cadenza, Barber gives the violin a 'recitative.' The second movement continues and rhapsodically amplifies the work's Romantic lyricism and rhythmic vitality. Two themes are heard, then a contrasting middle section, then the two themes return.
The final movement represents a major turning point in Barber's style. Here the composer's musical vocabulary becomes much more incisive, in the manner of his post-war 'Capricorn' Concerto and Medea Suite. At the opening, a perpetual motion figure is announced by the timpani and is then taken over by the Violin. The concerto ends in a dizzying blaze of excitement.
Charles Ives (1874-1954) grew up in the small town of Danbury Connecticut. There he studied music for the first time (under the tutelage of his father) and played French horn in the town band. Ives' youthful experiences - musical and otherwise - supplied him with material he worked into his music for years after he reached adulthood.
Country Band March written in 1903 is a prime example. In it, he parodies not only the foibles of amateur town musicians (as in Mozart's A Musical Joke), but also the music itself, mixing the starchy rhythms of a Sousa march with the syncopated ones of contemporary Ragtime. Ives was also a great quoter of familiar tunes, weaving them together into a polytonal crazy quilt of uproarious originality. Country Band March, which became the basis for his later Putnam's Camp (second movement of Three Places in New England), is a nearly constant parade of comic jabs and parodied tunes.
The intriguing title of this work seems to be redundant, yet it is not. This is a concerto in three movements for three 'solo groups' of instruments, each group consisting of three instruments:
Solo Group 1: Piano, Harp, Percussion
Solo Group 2: Oboe, Clarinet, Bassoon
Solo Group 3: Violin, Viola, Cello
A chamber orchestra supports this colorful structure. Composer Gian Carlo Menotti (1911- ) based this 1970 work on the principle of the Baroque concerto grosso, the same principle on which J.S. Bach composed his six Brandenburg Concertos.
Don't we know Gian Carlo Menotti mainly as the opera composer who wrote the Christmas classic, Amahl and the Night Visitors? What is he doing in the concert hail? Concert music by an opera composer is always fascinating. True to form, Menotti's Triplo Concerto a tre contains strong theatrical overtones. One of these is simplicity and directness. Another is clearly-expressed emotion. The first movement, for example, contains a sprightly opening theme, which give the players opportunities for witty (sometimes even humorous) expression. Menotti fans might be reminded here of his early one-act comedy, The Old Maid and the Thief Later, a more sentimental and exotic style comes out through themes reminiscent of serious stage works, such as The Consul. At the same time, Menotti's obvious mastery of orchestral craft gives the music the polish of high art.
The second movement has a nocturnal or pastoral character. It uses the main orchestra to anchor the music with a compelling main theme, which surrounds contrasting episodes. Menotti treats the solo instruments with more intimacy here, freely combining solists from different groups.
True to the concerto's Baroque derivation, the final movement is a quick gigue, a dance rhythm that also resembles the Italian tarantella. The central Andante gives us an operatic type of contrast, building emotional tension until released in a reprise of the main gigue idea. So the concerto ends, its rhythmic propulsion stirring up a froth of spirited good humor.
PROGRAM NOTES BY DR. MICHAEL FINK
Copyright 2002 BY NOTES, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.