Program Notes for Virginia Symphony Orchestra Classics #11 - - 13 ...

Program Notes for Virginia Symphony Orchestra
Classics #11 - - 13-15 April 2012
By Laurie Shulman ©2011
First North American Serial Rights Only
“Water is life in Southeast Virginia,” declares JoAnn Falletta. “Our community is bound
to the water. We see it everywhere; we walk by it, we drive around it and over it. Music about
water seems completely appropriate to our programming.”
In keeping with that view, she has chosen to open these season finale concerts with a
piece of water music: Les Chants de la Mer [The Songs of the Sea] by Philippe Gaubert. A
younger contemporary of Debussy and Ravel, Gaubert is best known for his flute works, but
these three symphonic tableaux are a wonderful example of his orchestral writing. “The music is
ravishing, beautiful,” confirms Ms. Falletta. “When I’ve conducted this piece before, the reaction
has always been: ‘I loved that!’ Gaubert’s music has a little of Debussy in it; it’s certainly
atmospheric, with beautiful tone painting.”
Ms. Falletta points out that Gaubert composed Les Chants de la Mer in the 1920s, a time
when poetry and music were tied closely together in France. His score includes three quotations
from poetry about the sea, two by the French symbolist poet Paul Fort, and the third by Gaubert
himself.
“I think it’s wonderful that he wrote one of the poems accompanying the score,” says Ms.
Falletta. “His involvement in the imagery gives us a more personal experience with his music.”
Each of Gaubert’s three movements presents a different perspective of the sea. First, he

explores its variety of colors as the surface reflects sun and the shifting clouds above. Then he
moves to a cliff overlooking the water. Unspecified persons – children a pair of lovers, perhaps
– are dancing an imaginary round dance, scampering about amid the music of the cool breeze
and the scent of sea air. They drink in the sight of the ocean as they trample May wildflowers
underfoot, oblivious to everything but the exhilaration of the moment. Finally, Gaubert
‘composes’ the sea at dusk, as a fiery sunset slips over the horizon, hinting at the mystery of the
ocean at night.
The centerpiece of our program is “Tchaikovsky’s Hidden Jewel,” the rarely heard piano
concerto that follows intermission. In fact there is more than one such gem on the program. Igor
Stravinsky is our link between France and Russia – and the bridge to Tchaikovsky. He based his
1928 ballet, Le baiser de la fée [The Fairy’s Kiss] on themes from little known works by
Tchaikovsky, songs and piano pieces that Tchaikovsky had never orchestrated. Stravinsky reinterpreted
these miniatures in his own unique musical language. This neoclassic masterpiece is
an homage to one of Stravinsky’s most revered predecessors -- and to a beloved author. The
ballet scenario derives from a tale by Denmark’s Hans Christian Andersen. We hear the
Divertimento from The Fairy’s Kiss, essentially a four-movement suite of highlights from the
complete ballet.
“This Divertimento is one of my ‘pet’ pieces,” says Ms. Falletta. “Stravinsky was paying
tribute to Tchaikovsky, but also poking fun at him in a very loving way. He is very sly, the way
he adapts all the standard Tchaikovsky ballet techniques, twisting them around so that they
sound almost slapstick. When he finished the score, he claimed that he didn’t know where

Tchaikovsky ended and Stravinsky started. The Fairy’s Kiss must have been great fun for him.”
Following intermission, pianist William Wolfram joins the orchestra for Tchaikovsky’s
Piano Concerto No.2 in G major, Op.44. This work has been all but eclipsed by the immensely
popular First Piano Concerto, which makes these performances all the more special.
Tchaikovsky's contemporaries regarded him as the most westernized of Russian
composers, and indeed, like Glinka before him, he was well traveled and widely conversant with
contemporary music in Europe. He composed this spectacularly difficult concerto at a crucial
time in his turbulent life, yet the music is not so overtly emotional as other works written about
the same time. It does have plenty of drama and technical fireworks, however, particularly in the
showy first movement.
All three movements are musical treasure chests, the hidden jewels of our concert title,
but the slow movement is especially wonderful. It features prominent roles for Concertmaster
Vahn Armstrong and Principal Cellist Michael Daniels as well as Mr. Wolfram, which makes it
almost a triple concerto. The orchestra, rather than the piano, presents the principal thematic
material. Tchaikovsky’s emphasis on three soloists gives the Andante non troppo psychological
weight. “It’s like a big piano trio in the midst of the slow movement: extended chamber music,”
says Ms. Falletta. “That’s the heart of the concerto for me.”

Les Chants de la Mer: Trois tableaux symphoniques [Songs of the Sea: Three Symphonic
Tableaux]
Philippe Gaubert
Born 5 July 1879 in Cahors, Lot, France
Died 8 July 1941 in Paris
Approximate duration 17 minutes
The flutist, conductor, and composer Philippe Gaubert was the most distinguished
protégé of the great virtuoso Paul Taffanel, widely regarded as the father of modern French flute
playing. (Taffanel and Gaubert collaborated on a flute method published in 1923 that is still in
use.) Like his teacher, Gaubert eventually became conductor at the Paris Opéra. He composed
works for stage and orchestra as well as songs and chamber music.
Along with many of his French contemporaries, Gaubert was overshadowed by the
towering figures who dominated French music in the early decades of the 20 th century: Claude
Debussy (1862-1918) and Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). Both their influences are perceptible in
Les Chants de la Mer, first performed in 1929. The obvious ‘cousin’ to these three symphonic
tableaux is Debussy’s La Mer (1905), whose subtitle was “three symphonic sketches.”
Gaubert’s is no copycat work, however, and there are abundant examples of ‘water music’ in the
orchestral literature prior to Debussy and after Gaubert. The sea has inspired evocative
symphonic canvasses from many other composers, notably Felix Mendelssohn (Hebrides
Overture), Richard Wagner (The Flying Dutchman), Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (Scheherazade),
Arnold Bax (Tintagel), Ralph Vaughan Williams (A Sea Symphony), and Benjamin Britten (Four
Sea Pictures from Peter Grimes).
Gaubert’s approach is unusual because his score includes three poetic epigraphs that lend
their titles to the movements. The first two are from Les Ballades de la Mer [Sea Ballads] by
Paul Fort (1872-1960), a poet and dramatic director who was important in French symbolist
theatre at the turn of the 20 th century. His prose ballades have the structure and rhythm of poetry.
Gaubert was drawn to Fort’s work. For the third movement, Gaubert appended his own poem,
similar in style to Fort’s writing.
Gaubert favors triple meter throughout Les Chants de la mer, subtly evoking the rock and
swell of the waves. The music is unmistakably French, with strong overtones of impressionism.
Gaubert changes keys frequently in modulations reminiscent of Fauré. His extensive use of
whole tone scales, however, is closer to the style of Debussy and Ravel. He uses the orchestra
beautifully, with cameo solos sprinkled generously throughout: cello in the first movement, the
first stand violins in the second, and a series of solos for tumpet, horn, violin, and flute in the
finale. Harp and percussion add color and sparkle to Gaubert’s superb orchestation.

Chants et parfums, mer colorée [Songs and perfumes, the multi-colored sea] celebrates
the joy of being alive and the author’s passion for the sensuous experience of light and wind
upon the sea. His pace is leisurely, just as the majestic surface of the ocean will not be rushed.
The music unfolds with hypnotic power.
La ronde sur la falaise [The round dance on the cliff] is a scherzo. Lighthearted and
playful, Gaubert’s dancers scamper about, exulting in their view of the sea from the high
promontory. The form is ternary, with a central trio section switching to 2/4 meter. It is the only
instance of duple meter in the score.
Bold horn calls open Là-bas, très loin, sur la mer [Over there, very far away, on the sea].
Gaubert paints a picture of sunset on the western horizon over the infinite expanse of the ocean.
A dusky mixture of red and blue heralds the mystery of the night, enveloping all. He passes a
single theme among four soloists, at once unifying the music and exploring the endless variety
of the sea.
The score calls for 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, bass clarinet, 2
bassoons, contrabassoon, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, cymbals, bass drum,
triangle, Basque tambourine, harp, and strings.
THE POEMS IN GAUBERT’S SCORE
Philippe Gaubert’s score to Les Chants de la Mer includes a page with the following excerpts
from poems by Paul Fort and Gaubert.
Chants et parfums, mer colorée
Douceur d’aimer! Douceur de vivre! Chants et parfums, mer colorée des plus touchantes
harmonies de l’air, nuée et nue mirées, mer chantante, mer parfumée, langueur marine, que je
vous aime!
La mer est verte, la mer est grise, elle est d’azure, elle est d’argent, et de dentelles que l’air
brouille en mélangeant leurs ton changeants . . . Mon Dieu que j’aime la lumière! . . . J’ai tout
le prisme dans les yeux, le sable d’or sous mes cils bleus, entre mes cils palpite et chante la mer
aux voiles frémissantes, la mer charmante . . . Douceur d’aimer! Douceur de vivre! Chants et
parfums, mer colorée!
– Paul Fort, Les Ballades de la Mer
Sweetness of loving! Sweetness of living! Melodies and perfumes, sea colored by the most
affecting harmonies of the air, thick clouds and skies in sight, singing sea, perfumed sea, marine
languidness, how I love you!
The sea is green, the sea is grey, it is azure, it is silver, and of lacework that the breeze whips up
while jumbling together their changing shades . . . My God how I love the light! I have the
complete prism in my eyes, the golden sand under my blue eyelashes, between my lashes the sea

eats and sings to rustling sails, bewitching sea. . . . Sweetness of loving! Sweetness of living!
Melodies and perfumes, colored sea.
La ronde sur la falaise (scherzo)
Nous foulerons sur la falaise, à la falaise, à la musique du vent frais, les roses fleurettes de Mai
jusqu’à nous en trouver bien aise.
Dansons la ronde sur la falaise!
The round dance on the cliff
– Paul Fort, Les Ballades de la Mer
We will trample on the cliff, to the cliff, to the music of the cool air, trampling on the little May
flowers until we find comfort. Let us dance the round dance on the cliff!
Là-bas, très loin, sur la mer
Au soir . . . . soleil rouge . . . le crépuscule est lourd au matelot qui peine, tristes les yeux
nostalgiques. . . la mer se mélange aux tons bleus du crépuscule. . . tristesse environnante des
choses . . . Le souvenir du pays monte en bouffées vers le matelot redressé qui tend, joyeux, en
un élan d’espoir, les bras, là-bas ver le foyer . . . mais la route est longue et la tristesse le
reprend. A l’horizon le soleil saigne, agonisant. . . La mer s’étend infinie . . . . la nuit
mystérieuses descend, enveloppe tout.
– Philippe Gaubert
In the evening . . . crimson sun. . . dusk weighs heavily on the struggling sailor, sad are [his]
nostalgic eyes . . . the sea loses itself in the blue hues of the dusk . . . encompassing sadness of
things . . The memory of the land rises in puffs, toward the upright sailor who, joyous, holds his
arms out, in a surge of hope, toward home over there . . . but the ship’s path is long and sadness
retakes him. On the horizon, the sun bleeds, agonizing . . . the sea extends infinitely . . . the
mysterious night falls, enveloping all.

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Divertimento from The Fairy's Kiss
Igor Stravinsky
Born 17 June, 1882 in Oranienbaum, Russia
Died 6 April, 1971 in New York City
Approximate duration 22 minutes
A half century of ballets
For all the astonishing diversity of his genius, Stravinsky's most lasting contribution is in
the realm of ballet. Yet, in the popular imagination, his substantial reputation continues to rest
primarily on three early masterpieces: L'oiseau de feu (The Firebird, 1910), Pétrouchka (1911),
and Le sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring, 1913). Stravinsky lived more than half a century
after the last of that stunning trio of ballets, continuing to compose until the mid-1960s. Many of
his subsequent scores were also written for the ballet stage, and have remained in the repertoire
with double lives as both dance and concert scores.
Stravinsky’s salute to the past
Two of these, Pulcinella (1920) and Le baiser de la fée (The Fairy's Kiss, 1928) hold a
special place in Stravinsky's oeuvre because they are based in large part upon the works of
earlier composers. Clearly a musician of Stravinsky's ingenuity and originality had no need to
rely on others for his musical material, and indeed in both cases he was paying tribute to one of
his predecessors. The story behind The Fairy's Kiss is particularly engaging.
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Late in 1927, Stravinsky was approached by the dancer Ida Rubinstein, who was starting
a new ballet company. For its inauguration, she wished to commission a new work inspired by
Tchaikovsky's music. Stravinsky was a great admirer of Tchaikovsky, and was strongly drawn
to the project because of the timing: 1928 was the 35th anniversary of Tchaikovsky's death.
Ironically, Stravinsky's mentor and colleague Serge Diaghilev was greatly offended that
Stravinsky accepted a commission from someone else. What he perceived as an insult stung
deeper because Ida Rubinstein was a former dancer with Diaghilev's incomparable troupe, the
Ballets russes. (In fact, of Stravinsky's stage works, only three -- L'histoire du soldat (1918),
Apollon musagète (1928) and The Fairy's Kiss -- came to fruition independent of Diaghilev.)
Nevertheless, the project went forward.
Stravinsky's musical approach was to take
fragments of melodies, or entire themes, from Tchaikovsky's music, endowing it with freshness
through piquant orchestration and the addition of some original material. He selected all the
excerpts from Tchaikovsky's lesser-known piano works, much of it frankly salon music:
Humoresques, Nocturnes, Valses russes, Scherzos, an Evening Reverie, an Album Leaf, and
several songs, among others. None of his choices was orchestral. Stravinsky knew this music
well, since childhood, and Tchaikovsky was his favorite Russian composer. (In Expositions and
Developments, one of his collaborative books with Robert Craft, the composer detailed his
borrowings and adaptations.)
Chamber sonorities from the ballet’s pit orchestra
The challenge he faced was to sustain the dramatic interest of a long ballet with the
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vehicle of the lighter raw material of salon miniatures. He kept the texture light, despite tripling
the woodwinds in the orchestration, by using smaller groups of instruments in combinations
rather than drawing upon the massive sound of full orchestra. Consequently, the entire score has
a more chamber-like feel to it. Also, the borrowings are carefully intermingled with Stravinsky's
own original writing. His acerbic style cuts through any danger of sentimentality in his treatment
of Tchaikovsky's music; the innate theatricality and simple appeal of the tale delivers the rest.
In the composer’s words: adapting a beloved fairy tale
In his 1936 autobiography, Chroniques de ma vie, Stravinsky discusses Hans Christian
Andersen's tale, "The Ice Maiden", and its transformation into a ballet.
I chose ["The Ice Maiden"] as my theme, and worked out the story on the
following lines. A fairy imprints her magic kiss on a child at birth and parts it
from its mother. Twenty years later, when the youth has attained the very zenith
of his good fortune, she repeats the fatal kiss and carries him off to live in
supreme happiness with her forever afterward.
As my object was to
commemorate the work of Tchaikovsky, this subject seemed to me to be
particularly appropriate as an allegory, the muse having similarly branded
Tchaikovsky with her fatal kiss, and the magic imprint has made itself felt in all
the musical creations of this great artist.
The music is divided into five principal sections. Two lullabies frame the ballet: in the
first, "Lullaby in the Storm," the child is separated from its mother. The closing section is its
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eprise, retitled and reworked as "Lullaby of the Land Beyond Time and Place," with a peculiarly
tranquil aura of wide open, heavenly space. In between, Stravinsky provides musical interest by
contrast: notably a boisterous village fête, in which the music vividly illustrates country peasant
dancing. In snatches here, we can sense the echo of certain Russian operas, and also perhaps the
spirit of Petrushka.
Stravinsky's score calls for two flutes, piccolo, two oboes, English horn, three clarinets
(third doubling bass clarinet), two bassoons, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba,
timpani, bass drum, harp, and string quintet.
Piano Concerto No. 2 in G major, Op.44
Pyotr Ilich Tchaikovsky
Born 7 May, 1840 in Votkinsk, Viatka District, Russia
Died 6 November, 1893 in St. Petersburg, Russia
Approximate duration 37 minutes
How Many Concertos
Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No.2 Is there a misprint He
just wrote one, right Wrong. Tchaikovsky actually composed
three piano concerti. The popularity of the First has virtually
eclipsed the other two.
Tchaikovsky wrote his First Concerto in 1875 for the pianist
Nikolai Rubinstein, but withdrew his dedication when Rubinstein
criticized the piece. Only after the German pianist Hans von
Bülow enjoyed great success with the First Concerto did
Rubinstein amend his opinion. He became a great champion of the
B-flat minor work.
Mollified, Tchaikovsky wished to compose another concerto
for his friend. The years since the earlier concerto had been
tumultuous in his personal life, but rewarding professionally.
When he began sketching the Second Concerto in 1879, he had no
outstanding commissions, no pressing deadlines. He simply felt
the need to compose. His letters indicate boredom and a desire
to stay busy. Perhaps that accounts for the Second Concerto's
enormous length.
Cutting and Pasting
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Tchaikovsky reported to his patroness, Mme. von Meck, that
Nikolai Rubinstein thought the piano part overly episodic, and
that it didn't stand out from the orchestra enough.
Unfortunately Rubinstein died before the intended première.
Tchaikovsky's student Sergei Ivanovich Taneyev learned the piece,
and Anton Rubinstein (Nikolai's brother) conducted the Moscow
premiere in May 1882. The verdict was "too long." Some six
years later, Tchaikovsky excised lengthy passages from the first
two movements. In subsequent performances, the conductor
Alexander Ziloti made other extensive cuts; that version was
published four years after Tchaikovsky's death. Mr. Markovich
plays the original, full-length version.
Advances in Tchaikovsky’s Piano Writing
There are striking differences between the First and Second
Concertos. Where the first has an overabundance of melodies, the
second has few big themes. It is more music of gesture and
motive. Yet if the characteristic heart-on-the-sleeve tune is
not in evidence, Tchaikovsky's control of the orchestra and
skillful handling of symphonic material reflect an impressive
advance over the First Concerto. Further, the Second Concerto
shows more signs than the First of having been written
specifically for keyboard. The opening movement in particular is
a virtuoso showcase. Listeners who enjoy the theatre of a
vigorous, physical performance as much as the music itself will
be on the edge of their seats. This is interactive concertowriting,
whereby the soloist's sheer muscular effort seems to
drain us.
Chamber Music Interpolated into a Concerto
The slow movement is unusual in that the orchestra presents
all the themes, rather than the soloist. Also, it features
obbligato parts for the concertmaster and principal cellist. The
solo strings endow the movement with the operatic weight it needs
for emotional integrity and focus. The result is quite
transporting, as lyrical and intimate as anything Tchaikovsky
wrote.
Tchaikovsky's finale is as compressed as the first movement
is expansive. The structure combines sonata and rondo.
Spiritually, this Allegro con fuoco is related to the Cossack
dance that concludes the First Concerto. Here, however, all the
melodies are original. It is all over rather quickly. In
comparison to the leisurely expanse of the first two movements,
it thus runs the risk of appearing disproportionately brief.
Nevertheless this finale has punch, bravura, and undeniable
sparkle.
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Tchaikovsky scored the Second Concerto for woodwinds in
pairs, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, solo piano and strings.
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