Tag: classical

Camille Saint-Saëns | ‘Cyprès et Lauriers,’ Op. 156, for Organ and Orchestra

“‘I compose music’, said Camille Saint-Saëns, ‘as a tree produces apples,'” (DeutscheGrammophon.com). “A child prodigy, virtuoso pianist and accomplished travel writer, the prolific French composer came to embody the spirit of Classicism in an era of high Romantic creativity … Saint-Saëns took pride in his family’s Normandy roots, but his father had moved to Paris before his birth and Camille was thoroughly Parisian in his upbringing and outlook.

… In 1871 he was the driving force behind the new Société Nationale de Musique, formed to promote instrumental music in the face both of German pre-eminence – this was the year after the Franco-Prussian War.” Regarding his most prominent piece, ‘Carnaval des Animaux’ (‘Carnival of the Animals’), “Saint-Saëns would only allow this satirical piece to be played in private in his lifetime, as he feared its light-hearted character would tarnish his reputation as a serious composer. All, that is, except for one movement: ‘The Swan’. Played by a solo cello and piano duet, the lyrical melody has a depth of feeling that is unusual for Saint-Saëns … Living on for half a century after he founded the Société Nationale, Saint-Saëns was able to witness the great flowering of French chamber music that took place during the period, led by his pupil (Gabriel) Fauré.”

From the video’s description: “‘Cyprès et Lauriers,’ Op. 156, for Organ and Orchestra was written … in 1919 to celebrate the Allied victory in World War I and dedicated to then President of France, Raymond Poincaré.” The gravity of The Great War was still reverberating throughout Europe at that time; the artistic community did its best to respond to the tremendous shock waves which the war set into motion. The piece’s chromaticism can at times obscure its modulation points (the first takes place at the 2:15 mark), but the video’s score format is useful for keeping track, via changing key signatures!

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.

Franz Liszt | Sonata in B minor

“Franz Liszt’s Sonata in B minor (1854) is arguably his finest composition and one of the greatest piano sonatas ever written,” (PianoStreet). “Many place it alongside Schumann’s Fantasy Op. 17 as “the two 19th-century masterpieces” of the piano literature.

Although Liszt performed it for his enthusiastic disciples in Weimar, the work failed to impress Brahms or Clara Schumann. Robert Schumann, to whom it was dedicated, was already incarcerated in the asylum in Endenich by the time of the Sonata´s arrival in his home in Düsseldorf. The Sonata drew an enthusiastic compliment from Richard Wagner … It has now been more than 150 years after the Sonata’s public premiere and no musicologist, music theorist or classical music fan can deny its influence, craft, and original power. The work also represents one of the most successful solutions of the problems of the sonata form to come out of the 19th century.”

The four movements of the Sonata are blurred together; between the first and second movements, a chord is sustained over the bar line, or the nominal demarcation between the movements, followed by a very unexpected chord progression. The transition to a surprising new key center is the result, starting around the 12:00 mark in the first video below. The second video, by Polychoron Productions, provides a detailed discussion of the modulation.

George Frideric Handel | Messiah (fail)

Now that the holidays are over, it’s perhaps the least distasteful time of the year to post this monumental gaffe by an organist accompanying Handel’s Messiah (1741). This error wouldn’t have been possible during Handel’s lifetime, when the “transposition” function on pipe organs was still a few hundred years in the future. It all adds up to a category of “unintentional modulation” — one which we hope won’t grow much over time!

“Performing under pressure is hard, and there’s no doubt that accompanying a full choir is stressful even for the most unflappable of musicians,” (ClassicFM). “But this is just… something else.

During a performance of Handel’s Messiah, at that crucial moment at the end of the ‘Hallelujah’ Chorus when the choir and organ come together in four glorious final chords, this organist completely loses it. It seems they accidentally pressed the ‘transpose’ function on their instrument, only-just-and-only-sort-of recovering it by adding an unexpected seventh at the end, before finally landing on the tonic chord. We can all agree the choir deserves a huge pat on the back for holding it together.” The video is only 0:44 long; in the interest of safety, make sure you’re sitting down by about the 0:20 mark.

Frédéric Chopin | Nocturne in G Major, Op. 37 #2

“Chopin composed 21 nocturnes, 18 of which were published during his lifetime,” (The Guardian). “They span almost his entire creative career – the earliest were written in the late 1820s, when the composer was still in his teens, the last in 1846, three years before his death. That period also coincided with massive advances in the technology of the piano itself; the instruments that Beethoven and Schubert wrote for – the kind that Chopin would have known in his youth – were very different in their tonal capabilities and power from those that he was able to play and compose on in the last decade of his life.

In some significant respects, Chopin’s development as a composer, and the steady refinement of his musical language, are inseparable from the increasing expressive power that the steady advancement in piano technology offered him through his career. Together with the mazurkas, the other miniature form that he made his own, the nocturnes provide a musical chronology of that development.”

“Chopin’s Nocturne in G (1839) is written like a barcarolle, a song of the Venetian gondoliers. In the left hand you’ll hear the gentle rocking motion of the boat,” (VermontPublic.org). “The music shifts and the key changes just like the scenery passing by. The boat comes to a rest and we hear a melody, like the gondolier singing a simple, repetitive song.”

After the piece begins in G major, at the 0:18 mark we’ve clearly launched into new harmonic territory, with many additional shifts throughout. However, the piece manages to come to its final resting point by returning to the key of G major.

Nicholas Ma | How Do You (Not) Write a Fugue?

“Nicholas Ma (b. 2001) is a pianist-composer living in Oakville, Ontario, Canada,” (Charleston International Music Competition). “He is in his third year as an undergraduate at McGill University’s Schulich School of Music and is pursuing a double major in Piano Performance and Composition … Starting piano at the age of 4, Nicholas has also obtained the ATCL Performance Diploma with the highest accolade, Distinction, from Trinity College London. More recently, Nicholas was the recipient of a Gold award from the 2021 Grand Maestro International Music Competition.”

When he’s not writing assignments for Counterpoint classes, Ma is working on his piano studies (see his interpretation of Sonetto 104 Del Petrarca, by Franz Liszt, below). Ma’s fugue, “How Do You (Not) Write a Fugue” (2023) traverses various keys of the moment, but one particularly clear modulation is actually announced in the lyrics. We won’t spoil the surprise with a timestamp! From Ma’s notes in the Youtube video description:

“In my first semester of tonal counterpoint class, our final assignment was to write a 4-voice fugue… so I said YOLO and wrote this meme fugue as the final assignment – with the lyrics being my revision notes from class haha. Huge shoutout to Prof. Nicole Biamonte for accepting this fugue as a valid assignment and not instantly dunking on my grades, especially with the “intentional parallel fifths” section. I later gathered four singers (with me playing the piano part) and played through this … It was incredible – the singers learnt and sung this fugue at this level with only two hours of rehearsal! I also have to shoutout my two inspirations for this fugue: the first being my favorite fugue to this day, Glenn Gould’s parodistic ‘So You Want to Write a Fugue?’ and Freddy Wickham’s self-explanatory ‘Ontological Fugue.’

I decided to go in the direction of these two pieces, but take a step further by adding theatrics, intentional “counterpoint error” sections, and slipping in familiar quotations (Art of Fugue, Double Violin Concerto, Christmas tunes). The piece can be summarized in three sections – The exposition (which introduces basic fugal techniques), the middle/”development” (where errors/fugal parodies are gradually introduced in a tongue-in-cheek manner), and the “recapitulation” (where the singers break the 4th wall, address the listener, and question the philosophy of compositional aesthetics and rules… yep it gets pretty off-the-rails haha).

Overall, I wanted a piece that could be appreciated by all levels – those that do not have much familiarity with fugal writing will gain something from it, and those that are experts in fugues will enjoy the humorous parodistic subversion of counterpoint expectations. (And of course the main reason, I needed to write a fugue for a tonal counterpoint class assignment).”

Il Divo | Caruso

“Caruso,” written by Italian singer/songwriter Lucio Dalla, is featured on the 2006 album Siempre by the classical crossover group Il Divo. “Their phrasing on…Caruso is excellent, drawn out to pull as much emotion as possible,” AllMusic said in their review of the record. The album sold over a million copies in the United States, and was the #2 classical crossover album on the Billboard charts for the year.

The track begins in C minor, modulates up a half step to C# minor for the second verse at 1:26, and then dramatically rises up another half step to D minor for the final chorus at 2:44.

Jacques Ibert | Française (Lorenzo Micheli, guitar)

French composer Jacques Ibert’s “skill (at) improvisation became useful when he was employed as a pianist at silent movie theatres, where he composed scores  to fit the action on the screen,” (JacquesIbert.fr). “He later was to write over sixty film scores for sound movies. World War I interrupted Ibert’s studies at the Conservatoire. He joined an army medical unit, and was decorated with the Croix de Guerre by the French government.”

After his military service, Ibert continued to lead a life of high achievement, not only as composer but as a French citizen. “Shortly after returning to the Conservatoire, Ibert stood for the competition for the Premier Grand Prix (Prix de Rome). He won the prize,which meant living up to three years in Rome at the Villa Medici, in October 1919. In 1937, Ibert was named Director of L’Académie de France à Rome, the first musician to hold this post. In 1955, Ibert was appointed General Administrator of the Réunion des Théâtres Lyriques Nationaux (the combined management of Paris Opera and Opera Comique). In 1956, he was elected to the Académie des Beaux Arts of the Institut de France.”

Ibert wrote “Française” for guitar in 1926. “Ibert … wrote a number of operas, ballets, and film scores, as well as orchestral, vocal, and chamber music and some thirty instrumental pieces,” (ThisIsClassicalGuitar). The “Française” … “is a virtuosic composition with a startlingly original guitaristic style. This lively dance with roots in folk-music in 2/8 time begins with rapid triplets interspersed with linking scalic passages. A middle section offers ingenious harmonic modulations, intricate cross rhythms and short bursts of melody, leading to a reprise of the first section and a vigorous coda.” After a start in C major, the piece modulates to E major at 0:45. More shifts in tonality follow.