chamber work

Clara Schumann | Piano Trio in G Minor, op. 17

“Thanks to her constant touring, which almost always included performances of her own music, Clara was probably a better-known composer than Robert when they married,” (LA Philharmonic). “The Four Polonaises of her Op. 1 (not her actual first compositions) had been published when she was 11 years old, to be followed by numerous other solo piano pieces and her Concerto.

After her marriage, Clara turned to larger forms, studying jointly with Robert through all of his enthusiasms. Their influences were mutual – composed in 1846, Clara’s Piano Trio in G minor, Op. 17, was a direct influence on Robert’s Piano Trio in D minor, Op. 63, written the following year. (Robert’s own G-minor Piano Trio would be composed in 1851.) After Robert wrote his trios, Clara lost confidence in hers, but Brahms was one of many others who also played the work.”

While the Trio’s first movement, Allegro Moderato, begins in G minor, one of several harmonic shifts begins early (1:18) as a change in emphasis to the relative Bb major takes root.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart | Piano Quartet #2 in E-flat Major, K. 493: I. Allegro

In 1786, early in the era of the pianoforte, “Mozart wrote his two piano quartets for an ensemble essentially as new as the piano,” (Earsense.org). “But for a few random and now obscure composers before him, Mozart became the first to claim a genre that would captivate composers from Mendelssohn and Schumann onwards … Mozart’s “piano” quartets are considered the first in the genre not because they are historically the first, but because they are the historically the first great ones.

When he wrote them, Mozart was at the zenith of his fame as a performing concert pianist as well as a confirmed master of chamber music. The quartets are superbly balanced chamber works with all the craft and intimacy that implies, but they are also magnificent showcases for piano — in essence, chamber concertos, a kinship emphasized by their three-movement designs.”

The first movement’s opening section is in Eb major, but by 1:40 we’ve clearly shifted to Bb major after several hints and feints. The movement eventually concludes in its original key as well, but not before some more delightful harmonic meanderings!

Johannes Brahms | Piano Quartet #3 in C Minor, Op. 60

“The Brahms Third Piano Quartet offers plenty of interpretive temptations. A young Brahms began the piece during Robert Schumann’s last illness, when Brahms was torn between despair for his friend and love for his friend’s wife,” (LAPhil.com). “He then tabled the project for nearly two decades before picking it up again and making thorough revisions (including lowering the key a half step), resulting in the current work. An older Brahms confessed to his publisher in characteristically sarcastic terms, ‘On the cover you must have a picture, namely a head with a pistol to it. Now you can form some conception of the music! I’ll send you my photograph for the purpose. Since you seem to like color printing, you can use blue coat, yellow breeches, and top-boots.'”

“It was a tongue in cheek reference to Goethe’s 1774 epistolary novel, The Sorrows of Young Werther, in which the Romantic hero commits suicide after falling in love with a married woman whose husband he admires,” (The Listeners’ Club). “Piano Quartet No. 3 in C minor was the last to be published of Brahms’ contributions to the genre. Yet, its first version, which preceded the other two quartets, was completed in 1856 at a time when the 23-year-old composer had become devoted to Clara Schumann. While Robert Schumann spent his final years languishing in an asylum amid deteriorating mental health, Brahms assisted Clara in taking care of the Schumann household. Obvious parallels can be drawn between Brahms’ deep affection for Clara and the emotional tumult of the fictional Werther.”

Beginning in C minor and touching briefly on several other keys, the piece clearly shifts to the relative Eb major at 2:13, starting with a piano solo section which is joined by the string trio at 2:27. Many other shifts in tonality follow.

Camille Saint-Saëns | Danse Macabre, Op. 40

“Camille Saint-Saëns was many things. Also a scholar and writer of wide-ranging interests and an equally wide-ranging traveler, he was a multifaceted musician who excelled as a keyboardist, composer, conductor, teacher, and editor,” (LAPhil.com). “He lived to scorn the work of Debussy and Stravinsky (among others) and is often regarded as a conservative – if not reactionary – composer. But in the early and middle years of his career Saint-Saëns championed the most progressive wing of contemporary music (including Schumann, Wagner, and Liszt) and his own music was often highly original in form and orchestration.

‘Danse Macabre’ (1874) is a case in point. It is one of four tone poems Saint-Saëns composed in the 1870s, all inspired to some degree by examples from Franz Liszt (whose own ‘Totentanz’ dates from 1849) and exploring both Liszt’s thematic transformation concept and novel instrumentation … The piece caused some predictable consternation on its premiere … but it also quickly became a popular hit. Liszt himself arranged it for piano not long after the premiere, and it soon found other keyboard transcriptions, including piano four hands and organ.”

The piece, originally written by the French composer for orchestra, is adapted here for guitar quartet and performed by the Quatuor Eclisses, an ensemble which formed at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique de Paris in the early 2010s. After an intro which briefly visits D major, the piece shifts to G minor for the first statement of its main theme (0:32). At 3:05, a middle section transitions into B major, growing more turbulent until 5:29, when the original theme (and primary key of G minor) return. (NOTE: The video embed looks like it won’t play, but it does!)

for Maurice

Franz Schubert | Der Musensohn, Op. 92/1, D. 764

“Although Franz Schubert died at the age of 31, he left behind a remarkably extensive oeuvre, including around 600 Lieder, sometimes composing as many as seven songs a day.” (Bachtrack) “Five of his Goethe settings … were written on 19th August 1815 alone! His mastery of giving each of his poets an unmistakable musical voice is unsurpassed, and so is the overwhelming number of his settings dealing with death and his longing for finding eternal peace, most famously reflected in his two song cycles Winterreise and Die schöne Müllerin. ‘My compositions spring from my sorrows. Those that give the world the greatest delight were born of my deepest griefs.’”

Der Musenson (The Muses’ Son), Schubert’s setting for a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, was written in 1822. The piece, written in a breakneck 6/8, has been published in various keys suitable for a full range of voices. This edition begins in Ab major and transitions to C major at 0:33, then alternates between the two keys throughout.

Robert Schumann | Widmung

“Marked by its technical bravura, Widmung (or Dedication in English) … is much more than a mere showpiece – containing probably the most passionate music writing and most heartfelt feelings,” (Interlude). “Written by Robert Schumann in 1840 (from a set of Lieder called Myrthen, Op.25), this piece was later arranged for piano solo by Franz Liszt. Myrthen was dedicated to Clara Wieck as a wedding gift, as he finally married Clara in September, despite the opposition from Clara’s father (who was also Robert’s piano teacher).

The work starts with a flowing sense of pulse, while the first phrase (‘Du meine Seele, du mein Herz’) already captures Schumann’s love for Clara and devotion to the relationship. Here, Schumann sincerely confesses to Clara, declaring how important she is to him. For him, Clara is his angel, his spiritual support, and his entire world. Nevertheless, there is still a sense of fear and insecurity in the music, due to separation and uncertainty about their future. This complex mixture of feelings, as a true and full-bodied representation of love, certainly strengthens the emotional power of the music.”

At the 0:35 mark, Ab major shifts dramatically down to E major via a common-tone modulation. Amy Broadbent is the soprano in this 2014 performance; Christopher Koelzer is the pianist.

Antonin Dvořák | String Quartet in F Major (Op. 96, B. 179, “American”), movement I: Allegro ma non troppo (Dover Quartet)

“In 1892, the American philanthropist Jeanette Thurber persuaded Czech composer Antonin Dvořák to head her newly formed National Conservatory of Music in New York City for three years, (MusicProgramNotes.com) … “Within a year, Dvořák had composed his Symphony in E-Minor ‘from the New World,’ … Directly after composing the ‘New World’ Symphony, Dvořák took a long summer holiday in 1893 in Spillville, Iowa … Amidst nature and his countrymen, Dvořák overflowed with musical ideas. Within three days he sketched out his entire String Quartet No. 12, later nicknamed the ‘American‘ … There is no movement without a gorgeous melody, and equally enticing are their delightful accompaniments … The American is unreservedly a masterpiece and crowd pleaser.”

The Guardian, placing Dvořák in his overall historic context: “As well as raising American consciousness of its Native American and African American traditions – a stance seen by some as vindicated by the emergence of jazz – Dvořák influenced a new generation of Czech composers, whose work was even more implicitly nationalistic. He befriended the young Janáček, who would eventually develop his music differently, but his mentor’s example was crucial. Dvořák also influenced his violinist and composer son-in-law, Josef Suk, who in turn briefly taught Bohuslav Martinů. Martinů’s assessment of Dvořák said it best: ‘If anyone expressed a healthy and happy relationship with life, it was he.’”

The quartet’s first movement begins in F major and features many side-steps into other keys, but an A major section starting at 1:38 is particularly striking.

Maurice Cahen | Impromptu #1 for Flute and Guitar

Guitarist and composer Maurice Cahen was born in Saint Germain en Laye, France. He began studying classical guitar while playing jazz in the Paris area. He traveled back and forth to Spain, where he discovered his love for traditional and contemporary Spanish music. In 1982, Maurice moved to the United States to study at Boston’s Berklee College of Music, followed by studies with Charlie Banacos and Dimitri Goryachev. Since then, he’s collaborated with various Boston and New York based musicians and has published original chamber music for flute and guitar, including the Impromptu #1.

Cahen has toured Israel with The Little Big Band and later toured Brazil with his own quartet and duo. Since then, Maurice has created numerous ensembles: Reflection, Brazilian Serenade, and various duos and trios featuring his original work, improvisation, etc. and exploring many styles, instrumentations, and genres (Classical, Latin, etc.) Maurice is currently studying North Indian Classical music and sitar technique with Jawwad Noor.

Impromptu #1 for flute and guitar, featuring Cahen on guitar and MotD co-curator Elise MacDonald on flute, begins in an overarching B minor and D major, but shifts to B major at 1:03. After touching on several other keys of the moment, we return to B minor and D major at 1:44.

Gabriel Fauré | Berceuse (Henrik Dam Thomsen, cello)

“Gabriel Fauré is sometimes overshadowed by the generation of composers that followed the trail he had quietly illuminated. He was more than the composer of one much-loved piece, the Requiem. He was crucial to a movement that aimed to establish a characteristically French style of composition,” (DeutscheGrammophon.com). A student of Camille Saint-Saëns, Fauré later became “a founding member of the Société National de Musique, along with Saint-Saëns … The aim of the Société’s concerts of new music was to encourage an indigenously French style of musical composition and shake off German influence. It paid special attention to chamber music, (which) had until then been under-represented in 19th-century Paris, where opera was the predominant measure of a composer’s success …

Fauré’s music was characterized from the start by an innate sense of balance and beauty … Saint-Saëns was naturally a tremendous influence. So were Liszt, whom Fauré met through Saint-Saëns, and Chopin, on whose piano genres Fauré substantially built.” In terms of his lasting impact on music, “Fauré’s influence lived on not only through his works but also through his pupils. He helped them strengthen voices that were as individual as his own. This might explain the profound differences among Ravel, Enescu, Charles Koechlin, Florent Schmitt and Arthur Honegger.”

The Berceuse (lullabye), written in 1879, is performed here by Henrik Dam Thomsen on cello and Ulrich Stærk on piano. Shifts among closely related keys are a subtle but nearly constant presence in this piece. “The mixing and reuse of material is an example of familiarity … familiarity works because new ideas are only subtly different, or they are accompanied by familiar gestures, harmonic overlap, or both. The harmonic movement therefore is experienced as subtle shifts rather than exhausting journey of departure and arrival. It is like floating on a calm river instead of climbing up a mountain.” (Brandon Kinsey). According to the video’s description, “The Berceuse is charming, irresistible, and impossible to fall asleep to.”

Cécile Chaminade | Concertino in D Major for Flute and Piano, Op. 107

“The pianist and composer Cécile Chaminade (1857-1944) was admired by the British Queen Victoria, for whom she often performed at The House of Windsor.” (I Care If You Listen). In 1913, France awarded her the Légion d’Honneur. But after her death, Chaminade was virtually forgotten. “George Bizet, a household friend at the Chaminade residence in Vésinet, a stylish suburb of Paris, lovingly called her ‘My little Mozart’. He advised her parents to send young Cécile to the Paris Conservatoire to study piano and composition. Papa, director of an insurance company and amateur violinist, refused permission, however: ‘Bourgeois girls are predestined to become wives and mothers.’”

Nonetheless, Chaminade gradually built a career in France as a composer and a performer. Eventually, she wrote 400 works and “not only succeeded in getting all her four hundred works performed, but also got them published – not a matter of course for a female composer at the time.” Despite her father’s reductionist attitude towards her career, after his death in 1887, Chaminade “had to support herself and her mother with her compositions and recitals, and this may be the reason why she concentrated on chamber music hereafter. The often-heard assessment that her music ‘doesn’t transcend the level of salon music’ is an affront. Yes, her writing is easily accessible and shies away from the drastic dissonances Wagner or Schönberg offer, but it is very well made and shows a remarkable control of classical counterpoint.”

Chaminade’s Concertino in D Major for Flute and Piano, Op. 107 (1902) is so prominent in the flute literature that among flutists it’s generally referred to simply as “The Chaminade.” Originally written for flute and piano, it was later also arranged for flute and orchestra. The piece was dedicated to the prominent French flutist and educator Paul Taffanel.

Beginning and ending in D Major as advertised, it cycles through quite a few other tonalities along the way, as this score-based video illustrates.