“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.
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!
Parisian pianist and composer Charles-Valentin Alkan “wrote his Grand Sonata ‘The Four Ages’ after he returned to performing in 1844 after a six-year hiatus.” (Musical Musings). “The work was published in 1847. Alkan lived in an apartment in Paris, the Square d’Orléans for about ten years and was a neighbor to Chopin. They became close friends, and he became acquainted with many other artists that lived in Paris at the time, including Franz Liszt.
The work is in four movements, with each one portraying the ages of a man. Alkan wrote a preface to the published work where he expressed his intentions with the titles and structure of the sonata:
The first piece is a scherzo, the second an allegro, the third and the fourth an andante and a largo, but each of them corresponds, in my case, to a particular moment of existence, to a particular disposition of the imagination. Why should I not point it out?”
The second movement corresponds to the age of 30; perhaps not surprisingly, it goes through several transformations and shifts along the way. Starting in D-sharp minor, it shifts to B major, G-sharp minor, and finally F-sharp major (quite a list of relatively rare keys!). We won’t timeslate the changes, because in order to fully experience this piece, your full attention will be required — and the video provides a full score! Make sure you’ve packed a lunch and have had some coffee first.
French composer Francis Poulenc (1899–1963) “… described himself, saying ‘I was born in Paris on 7 January 1899 and I studied piano under Vines and composition mostly from books, because I was feared being influenced by a teacher. [He allowed himself only one lesson with Ravel!] I read a lot of music and greatly pondered musical aesthetics,” (IndianapolisSymphony.org). “My four favorite composers, my only masters, are Bach, Mozart, Satie and Stravinsky. I don’t like Beethoven at all. I loathe Wagner. In general I am very eclectic, but while acknowledging that influence is a necessary thing, I hate those artists who dwell in the wake of the masters. Now, a crucial point. I am not a cubist musician, even less a futurist, and of course, not an Impressionist. I am a musician without a label.’ (In Praise of Poulenc, Fred Flaxman, WFMT 2002)
Poulenc dedicated his Concerto for Two Pianos to Winnaretta Singer, Princesse Edmond de Polignac, who was the twentieth child of Isaac Singer, inventor of the Singer sewing machine. Although born in Yonkers, New York, she grew up in Paris, and eventually presided over an influential salon, some say the most important avant-garde music salon in Paris between the wars. Poulenc (and the other members of Les Six) was a frequent visitor: along with Faure, Stravinsky, de Falla, Satie, Widor, Nadia Boulanger, Milhaud, Debussy, and many more. It was the crème de la crème. The social and musical power and presence of her salon as well as extraordinary life are well told in Music’s Modern Muse by Sylvia Kahan … Regarding his presence in Les Six, Stewart Gordon in A History of Keyboard Literature noted ‘Poulenc was the most consistent in developing and sustaining a style of directness, simplicity, clarity, and the inclusion of influences from popular music … ‘ The composer completed the work in three months (in 1932).
The piece begins with a restless introductory section, making liberal use of accidentals instead of written key signatures (probably just to save ink in noting rapidly shifting tonalities as they whiz by). But at the 5:40 mark, the piece falls squarely into Bb major for a section fittingly marked très calme. More changes in key follow.
“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.
“Reputed to be the hardest work for piano, Balakirev’s 1869 work Islamey saved many a pianist’s weary wrists when it was orchestrated in 1907 by Alfredo Casella,” (Interlude.hk). “Its reputation ensured that both Rubinstein and Liszt had the piano work in their concert repertoire.
… The work as a piano piece is important in Russian musical history because it was the first Russian work to become established in the mainstream repertoire other than as a salon piece. Putting it on the European stage under the fingers of Franz Liszt made the work one of the stars of the new exoticism coming out of Russia. Making it into an orchestral piece extended its reach … Islamey, taking its themes from the Caucasus and Armenia, again brings the remote reaches of Russia back to its main cities. The dedicatee of the piano work, Nikolai Rubinstein, gave the premiere of the work in St. Petersburg in late 1869.”
This landmark composition undergoes many changes in key. But perhaps the most profound occurs at 7:44, when the modulation is also accompanied by a transition in both tempo and time signature — from a frantic 12/16 to to a luxurious Andantino in 6/8.
“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!)
“Sergei Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor begins with a lonely, lamenting statement in the solo violin,” (The Listeners Club). “It’s a strangely solitary voice which opens the door to an unsettling drama filled with chilly anxiety and occasional raw terror. In his program notes, the American violinist Stefan Jackiw … provides the following descriptive analysis of this opening:
‘Prokofiev puts the listener ill at ease right from the start. The piece opens with the solo violin alone, playing a foreboding melody in G minor that is based on a 5‐beat motive. We are used to hearing musical ideas that fall neatly into 2, 3, 4, or 6‐beat patterns. Five beats don’t feel comfortable. Furthermore, since the violin is alone, the orchestra gives the listener no additional context to find his bearings. When the orchestra finally comes in several bars later, it enters in a completely different tonality, further throwing the listener off balance and compounding the sense of unease. The movement closes with one of the most nihilistic statements in music I know: two short, dry pizzicati thuds from the entire orchestra, like a falling guillotine.’
Prokofiev wrote this music in 1935 as he was preparing to resettle in his native Russia after years abroad in Paris and the United States. In order to be repatriated, he needed to appease Stalin and his restrictive artistic ideals of ‘Soviet Realism.’ For Prokofiev, this meant abandoning the “decadent formalism” of his earlier enfant terrible years.”
Beginning in G minor, the first movement progresses through several phrases before shifting to C# minor at 0:57. Many other shifts in tonality follow, as this score-based video shows!
The 1848 Shaker song “Simple Gifts” rose to prominence after American composer Aaron Copland borrowed its melody for his composition Appalachian Spring, which he wrote to accompany a ballet choreographed by Martha Graham. Cellist Yo-Yo Ma covered the tune on his 2001 album Classic Yo-Yo with vocalist Alison Krauss.
The track begins with a cello introduction in Bb and shifts down a fifth to Eb when Krauss enters at 0:46.
“In his epochal review of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C minor (1808), Op. 67, E. T. A. Hoffman praised it as ‘one of the most important works of the time.’ … Beethoven started to sketch the Fifth Symphony in 1804, almost immediately following the completion of Symphony No. 3, Eroica … During the long four-year period of composition, Beethoven broke convention on several aspects,” (esm.rochester.edu). “Most particularly, it was the first symphony that Beethoven wrote in a minor key—C minor. Minor-keyed symphonies were not unheard of, but were not the norm at the time.”
The second movement begins with a lighter mood than its infamous introduction, the symphony’s first movement: ” … (it) begins piano with a noble, restrained theme in A-flat in the lower strings before bursting into a brief forte contrasting C-major militaristic theme, featuring trumpets and timpani.” In this performance by the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen, this modulation occurs at 1:17; other shifts in tonality follow.