1880s

Camille Saint-Saens | Africa (op. 89)

French composer “Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921) was left bereft at the death of his mother in December 1888, and the cold winter winds in Paris persuaded him that perhaps a warmer climate might better suit him,” (Interlude.hk). “Accordingly, he left Paris for Algiers where he stayed until May 1889 – walking, reading, listening, but not composing. Finally, in late 1889, he went first to Cadiz, Spain, and then to Las Palmas to take a winter holiday in the Canary Islands. There, he took a hotel room not in his well-known name but under the same of Charles Sannois, businessman, locked himself in his room, and started to work.

… The resulting work, Africa, Op. 89, was the result of the time he spent in Algeria and Egypt, and, at the final climax, uses the melody Salam al-Bey, then the Tunisian national anthem … In addition to this version for piano and orchestra, Saint-Saëns also created a solo piano version which is extremely difficult as both the originally challenging piano part and the orchestra parts are resolved in the solo pianist’s part.”

Sticking to the orchestral version: after beginning in G minor, the piece shifts to Eb major during an animated cadenza section in or around the 1:58 mark.

Johannes Brahms | Tragic Overture, Op. 81

“In the summer of 1880, Brahms … composed two concert overtures. ‘One weeps, the other laughs,’ he commented to his biographer, Max Kalbeck,” (IndianapolisSymphony.org). “The laughing piece referred to his rollicking Academic Festival Overture, Opus 80, filled with light-hearted student songs, written to acknowledge his doctoral degree bestowed by the University of Breslau, introduced by soft trombone chords. The weeping piece was his Tragic Overture, Opus 81, and a heavy counterpoise to the first. Brahms explained his motivation saying, ‘I (simply) could not refuse my melancholy nature the satisfaction of composing an overture for tragedy.’

Though it was not written for any specific tragedy, speculation has suggested Tragic Overture was possibly written in contemplation of a commission to write incidental music for Goethe’s Faust. (This did not materialize.) Another possibility is that the composer had read Nietzsche’s work The Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music, published in 1872. This Overture is dramatic commentary on the spirit of tragedy in human life.

Tragic Overture begins with two slashing chords, which preface the solemn main theme, orchestrated within low strings and low winds in D minor. Trombones and tuba build a bridge to a contrasting F major theme, but relief is short. A third main subject stemming earlier sketches is also introduced. Writing in sonata form, the composer moves directly into a convulsive development. Brahms scholar Walter Niemann wrote, ‘The fleeting touches of thrilling, individual emotion in this overture are not to be found in conflict and storm, but in the crushing loneliness of terrifying and unearthly silences in what have been called dead places.‘ Themes surge and spin in a tempest of emotion. A traditional recapitulation, introduced by two fortissimo chords, summarizes the main ideas with certain alterations. Opus 81 premiered on December 20, 1880 in Vienna …”

A half-step key change, partially camouflaged by extensive chromaticism, takes place at 8:07. At 10:59, the piece reverts to its original key of D minor.

Johannes Brahms | Mir lächelt kein Frühling

Puzzle Canon “celebrates the aesthetic value of symmetry in music. We hope to introduce you to a centuries-old, little-known but fascinating tradition, by featuring outstanding examples by both well-known and obscure composers. On this site, compositions of precise symmetry are featured …”

The site features an a cappella piece Johannes Brahms, improbably arranged for four soprano parts: “The four-voice, posthumously published modulating canon “Mir lächelt kein Frühling” is much like a round, but each new entry enters a melancholy semitone lower than the last. Once all the voices have entered and as each of these voices makes its way through the 16-measure melody, what we hear is a four-measure unit or iteration descending each time by semitone.”

Published in 1881, the short piece marinates in melancholy. Lieder.net provides this English translation of the lyrics:

For me, no springtime smiles
For me, no sun shines
For me, no flower blooms
For me, all is over!

Gabriel Fauré | Élégie, Op. 24

Gabriel Fauré’s “Élégie”, Op. 24 for cello and piano has held a special place in my heart ever since I was first introduced to it and played it with a close friend in high school. Originally envisioned as the slow movement in an uncompleted cello sonata, Fauré published the piece as stand-alone work in 1883, and later orchestrated it as well.

Fauré scholar Jean-Michel Nectoux wrote that the Élégie was one of the last works in which the French composer allowed himself “such a direct expression of pathos,” noting further that he regards the piece as “one of the last manifestations of French musical Romanticism. From now on Fauré’s music was to be more introverted and discreet.”

A large scale ABA form begins and ends in C minor; Ab major is hinted at in the bass beginning at 2:24 before fully arriving when the piano takes the melody at 2:35. Performed here by Jacqueline du Pré and Gerald Moore, pianist.

Ignacy Paderewski | Minuet in G major, Op. 14 #1

Ignacy Paderewski (1860 – 1941) was a Polish composer and pianist who is likely just as well known for his work as a philanthropist and brief stint as Prime Minister of Poland in 1919. The composer has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. The Irving Berlin song “I Love a Piano” (1916) includes the lyric “…and with the pedal, I love to meddle/When Paderewski comes this way/I’m so delighted, when I’m invited/To hear that long-haired genius play.”

Paderewski’s Minuet in G major (Op. 14 #1, 1887) is performed here by Polish pianist Michał Szymanowski. At 1:54, the piece transitions away from its overall key of G major, then reverts to its main theme at 2:38.