I bought and put into use Pascall’s parts for Brahms 1 last year, to generally good reviews. However, there are frustrations with the publication of both works. Pascall’s edition was made for Henle, but the orchestral materials are distributed and printed by Breitkopf.

Henle publishes a cheap study score and a VERY expensive cloth-bound full score. Only the full Henle score contains the notes. Breitkopf also offer both a study and full score, but NEITHER version includes the Critical Notes. I think this is, bluntly, a real cheat- what  pity that conductors can’ take advantage of the full depth of Mr. Pascall’s scholarship. The large Henle score is really designed for libraries, not performance,and it really requires an institutional budget. As it is, none of the libraries here in Cardiff have it, and I’ve not had a response from Breitkopf or Mr. Pascall when I’ve enquired about getting the Notes separately. In the process of preparing Brahms 2, I’ve also been disappointed to discover a couple of instances of measures being spread across two lines in the parts. This, to me, is the absolute lowest, most amateurish thing any publisher can do- it absolutely guarantees a few counting mistakes and lost players in every first (and many 2^nd and 3^rd) rehearsal that these parts will ever be used for. It’s so careless. Had I known of this, I would have stuck with the old Breikopf edition from the 1920’s edited by Hans Gál.  I’m seriously reconsidering whether to spend the extra money for the Critical versions of the 3^rd and 4^th Symphonies (The 3rd just came out, the 4th is in preparation). The changes are few, and the absence of proper Critical Notes means they don’t really function like a true scholarly edition, anyway.

So, my acquisition of the Brahms symphonies has reached an impasse at the halfway point. Meanwhile, I recently completed my collection of all the Beethoven symphonies, buying a lovely set of the Ninth just in time for my performance of it with the SMP in November. I’ve mixed the new Breitkopf Urtext edition co-edited by Clive Brown and Peter Hauschild with the Barenreiter edition of Jonathan Del Mar throughout, as follows-

Symphony 1- Brown/ Breitkopf

Symphony 2- Brown/Breitkopf

Symphony 3- Del Mar/Barenreiter

Symphony 4- Del Mar/Barenreiter

Symphony 5- Brown/Breitkopf

Symphony 6- Del Mar/Barenreiter

Symphony 7- Del Mar/Barenreiter

Symphony 8- Hauschild/Breitkopf

Symphony 9- Del Mar/Barenreiter

In any case, when I’m preparing any Beethoven symphony, I have on my desk the “old” Breitkopf, the Dover reprint of Litolf (which I learned them from in the first place and which is full of interesting notes from teachers and rehearsals), and the two new Urtext editions- Breitkopf and Barenreiter, as well as the Critical Notes from both editions.

As with the Brahms symphonies, the new editions do not render un-usable the  old Breitkopf edition most of us grew up with. There are relatively few major changes between the old and new editions, and some of those changes are decidedly sketchy. Riccardo Chailly recently decided to eschew the new Urtext editions completely and record his new, historically informed, set from the old Peters Asusgabe from the 1800’s.

I’ve read some funny things in reviews in recent years. First of all, quite a few critics don’t realize there are now two Urtext editions (although Mr Del Mar refuses to credit Mr Hauschild’s efforts with Urtext status), and so I’ve seen some sniffy dismissals of conductors for being out of touch for using Breitfkopf parts for their recordings instead of the “new” Barenreiter edition, when, in fact, they were using the new Breitkopf Urtext parts, which are more recently completed than the Barenreiter (although the two editions mostly overlap). There is also a common misconception that the old edition has thousands of mistakes in it . Of course, all the great orchestras have librarians who are staggeringly meticulous in their preparation of performance material. All of those old parts in Philadelphia, Chicago or Vienna would have been proofed and checked dozens of times. And, of course, all the new editions have mistakes, new mistakes, in them as well.

So why invest in an Urtext edition? They tend to be pretty to look at, although there can be layout problems (as with the Brahms 2 parts currently on my desk, which also have some dodgy page turn issues). They tend to be a bit more careful in replicating the quirks of each composers notation, rather than standardizing things to “house style.” However, the most important part of any Urtext edition is the Critical Notes. In fact, I would say if you have to chose between buying an Urtext score but skipping the notes, or printing an IMSLP scan for free and buying the Critical Notes, the latter will do you a lot more good. That’s why it’s so irritating when the notes aren’t included, as with the Breitkopf Brahms parts, or are ridiculously truncated, as with the Breitkopf Schumann Symphonies.

But what about the promise of “important new insights and discoveries?” One might be surprised to find Roger Norrington, of all people, sounding a little sanguine about the revelatory qualities of the new editions:

“It must be said that a great many of the new discoveries in the Beethoven text are not very audible. Although they all contribute a great deal to our understanding of the work. What is so audible are questions of tempo, balance, phrasing and dynamics, and fortunately these were all possible to change even before we had such a good edition as the new one.”

Take for instance my spiffy new set of Beethoven 9 parts. There are two BIG changes from past editions. In bar 81 of the first mvt, Del Mar changes then 2^nd note in the flute and oboe from b-flat to d. The d is in the sources, so it’s something people have known about for generations. It’s also obviously wrong. Well, who am I to say it’s wrong. It sure sounds wrong, it doesn’t fit the patter, it doesn’t the sequence and it doesn’t match the recap or, most importantly, the variation four bars later.

Here’s the “traditional” reading with the b-flat

Here’s the Del Mar reading as recorded by my former teacher David Zinman

Now, here’s the variation four bars later (same in both versions).

I’m just not persuaded the D can be right*. We know Beethoven wrote in incredible haste, and that he wasn’t the most meticulous of proofreaders.  I’m sure it has to be b-flat, and my parts have been changed to that effect (Mr Del Mar addresses this question at length not only in the Critical Notes, but also in his essay “Editing Beethoven” quoted below.)

The other big change is in the Finale **.  Starting in bar 532, both new critical editions insist that the horn vamp before the big return of “Freude schooner Goetterfunken” is not as we’ve always heard it:

But instead, full of weird ties. Is this Beethoven’s evocation of atrial fibrillation or is it a mistake? I took out the ties:

Beethoven has been working with that motive for a long time, and it’s not so much that he abandons it here that bothers me (although it bothers), but the strangely haphazard pattern in which it is disrupted. This strikes me as very un-Beethovenian. Of course, this is what is great about a Critical Edition. When you see something in the score that looks and sounds completely batty, or represents an important change from the text as you’ve known it, you can find out why the editor has suggested it. Once you understand the editors reasons, you can make an informed choice as the whether to accept their reading or to alter it to something that makes more sense to you.

But is this naughty? Do we owe an oath of fealty to the editors of an edition? Mr. Del Mar suggests as much in his interesting article, “Editing Beetoven”

“The curious thing here is this: the Barenreiter edition seems to have become “the thing to be seen to be playing,” though there is apparently no corresponding obligation to adhere to any features- whether details of slurring and staccato, or even the actual notes itself—which distinguish it from any other edition.”

But I think not. We were all brought up to believe that an Urtext edition presents the wishes of a composer without editorial interference or intervention. Without opinion. In fact, most Urtext editions are full of opinion. This is partly because composers are often conflicted about certain aspects of their own music- there may be more than one legitimate reading of a given passage, where a composer tried different solutions. This is a particular problem with Mahler, where the “finality’ of many of his works was determined not by his ascribing them a definitive status, but simply by the fact of his death- final versions of all the Mahler symphonies would have all changed had he lived to conduct them more times.

Beethoven could be indecisive about relatively important structural issues. He went back and forth on the question of repeating the Da Capo and Trio of the Scherzo of his Fifth Symphony. Of course, for years, we all knew it to go from the Trio to the spooky restatement of the Scherzo. In the last 15 years, however, we’ve learned that at one point, he did write an “ending” to take one back to the beginning of the Scherzo for a repeat of Scherzo and Trio before going to the pizzicato section. This is the same form as the Scherzo’s of the Fourth and Seventh Symphonies, so it’s certainly possible. Brown’s edition facilitates both versions, with or without Da Capo, while Del Mar is unequivocal- there can be no repeat of the Da Capo. I tried the repeat in my last performance of the piece- this led to complete disaster when the principal bassoon forgot the plan and went on to the coda. Even the critic noticed something had gone wrong. Was this Fate punishing me for disregarding Beethoven’s final wishes?

But, my former teacher David Zinman takes that repeat on his highly regarded recording:

Of course, while the record label and publisher (Arte Nova and Barenreiter, respectively) loudly trumpeted Zinman’s use of Del Mar’s edition, I wonder what Mr. Del Mar made of  Mr. Zinman’s recordings? Surely he was delighted to be the beneficiary of Maestro Zinman’s advocacy?

“Or, as in the extreme case of David Zinman, he may embellish the text with fantasies and cadenzas of his own invention while at the same time proudly proclaiming on the album cover that his is the “World Premiere Record- ing according to the New Bärenreiter Edition”. The extent of humbug, even rank false pre-tences, here is breathtaking. Yet while his recording has been lambasted in the German press as a ‘Travestie’, no British critic, as far as I am aware, has yet admonished Zinman for his outrageous liberties with Beethoven’s text, preferring instead to hail the freshness and originality (this indisputable, perhaps) of his ‘interpretations’.

Mercifully, Zinman remains exceptional. But the inescapable issue remains that eminent conductors such as Abbado, Haitink and Norrington proclaim the virtues of the new edition while rejecting some of its chief features.”

I guess he didn’t enjoy the discs….

But, I suppose I still think it is the conductor’s job to read all scores with a mixture of humility and skepticism. Humility to welcome new discoveries and to stand ready to abandon comfortable assumptions about a piece you know well. Skepticism to make sure that you’re confident that you’re putting the music first, and not treating the text as somehow divinely revealed. In the same article, Mr Del Mar takes some conductors to task for blindly accepting the obviously wrong suggestion by Sander Wilkens in the Criticial Edition of Mahler 1 that the bass solo be played by the whole section (I completely agree with him on this point). Editors, however knowledgable, can be blinded by ego, opinion, personal taste or ambition. The critical notes are where we can test an editor’s reasoning. At the end of the day, we’re there to be an advocate for the wishes of the composer, not the editor. It’s when the editor starts thinking of the text as theirs, rather than the composer’s, that we’re on shaky ground (let me be clear- I’m not accusing any editor of thinking this way in general, but perhaps when certain points come in for sharp discussion, the line between creator and expert becomes harder to maintain). Ultimately, the only real Urtext is not what one finds in one edition or one manuscript, but in the whole breadth of sources, research, discussion, intuition and discussion one can call upon.

____________________________________________

* I basically say that the D in bar 81 of the 9^th is wrong because it has to be wrong. Del Mar says much the same thing about the timpani writing in the last bar of Beethoven 5 (which I’ve discussed at length here). In the case of the D, I waited until we’d read it in rehearsal to change it- just to hear it with the band in the context of everything else I was doing.

** There is one other BIG change in the Barenreiter- in this case a change from the first printing. Mr Del Mar has now decided that all sections are to be repeated on the Da Capo, something he argued against in the original publication. His reasons are clearly articulated in the Critical Notes. Since the parts I have are from the 2nd printing, they have the extra repeats, but my 1st edition score doesn’t. I’m all for repeats (and I think I take every other repeat in every Beethoven symphony), I’m not quite convinced this is a settled matter, and it does make the movement VERY long and exhausting, not to mention more repetitious than anything else he wrote. I may try them next time, but only if circumstances are ideal.

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Surrey Mozart Players on top form for Electric Theatre performance

Those who ventured out to the Electric Theatre last Saturday were in for a real treat. The Surrey Mozart Players under their charismatic conductor Kenneth Woods has gone from strength to strength in recent years.

This was borne out in a gripping performance of Mendelssohn’s Scottish Symphony in which the wild, stormy nature of the country that inspired it and the composer’s own driven personality shone forth.

There were dramatic moments, a magnificent brooding quality, some finely played melodies, some deft playing in the Scherzo, but above all it was the pointing of the wind players which impressed.  And under Woods’s brisk direction the sometimes self-satisfied tune which concludes the symphony sounded anything but.  It was rather bold and stirring in the lower strings.

For a performance of Gustav Mahler’s Ruckert Lieder the instrumentalists were joined by the fine young Baritone Marcus Farnsworth, who conveyed the meaning of the five songs quite beautifully.

Mahler, an admirer of Mendelssohn, used the accompanying instruments sparingly, but very effectively, in all five songs.

The poems matched the intense, wistful, and nature-loving mood of the composer.  There is a spine-chilling moment in the third song Um Mitternach where the word “Herr” (Lord) is repeated to different harmonies here, and in the final incomparable Ich bin der Welt, the instrumentalists were on top form, with some lovely sounds from the cor anglais at the end.

Hans Gal, who spent the latter part of his long life in Edinburgh, was a admirer of Mahler.  There are indeed suggestions of the older composer in Gal’s Triptych, a symphony in everything but name. It is a pleasantly conceived extrovert, and workman-like piece, which received a tremendously energetic performance from the orchestra. Such a successful evening bodes well for the Surrey Mozart Players’ next appearance at the Electric Theatre on Saturday March 24th.

Shelagh Godwin – Advertiser 3/2/2012

However, I’ve finally been persuade to break my no-rant rule by a recent run of problems with the ups and downs of facilities management. So- this is my health warning- if you are rant averse, read no further!

Playing music well is not easy, so it’s a pity when musicians have to overcome basic problems with lighting or heating. Maybe I’ve just been unlucky of late, but 15 years ago, I never, ever seemed to encounter snafus of this kind, but lately, it’s become all too regular a phenomenon.

Now, I can guess what some of you are saying- typical conductor, thinking that everyone else’s job is easier than his, and not recognizing what the challenges are in providing a professional standard of lighting, stage setup or climate control.

Well, actually, I have a little story I can share that might explain why I’m not the most patient person in the world when it comes to lighting problems.

When I was in high school, I had one big hobby I’ve since had to drop- I was seriously, seriously involved in stage crew. Particularly in lighting.

As it turns out, the first thing I ever designed and ran was an orchestra concert. As a freshman, I’d assisted the senior lighting guy with setup and done some running of spotlights for the fall play. When the first orchestra concert of the year came around, he came to me and said “you’re an orchestra guy- why don’t you do the lights for the concert.” He showed me how to work around the acoustic shell, which, of course, wasn’t used for theatre productions, and explained how lighting music was different to lighting theatre or rock ‘n’ roll. Then, he left me to set it all up and get everything focused and balanced.

All went fine, and Mr. B, or conductor, was pleased with the setup. I wrote out a lighting schematic of the setup I’d arrived at so that the next show could be set up that much quicker. When we’d incorporate something new to me, like a soloist or a choir, I’d always try to have the adjustments and additions in place before the first rehearsal in the hall, and in four years, I was never asked to change the lights for a rehearsal or concert.

So, if a reasonably well-intentioned 13 year-old can master the art of concert lighting with a 20 minute tutorial, I see no reason it should ever be a challenge for a professional stage technician in a professional theatre.

But, of course, it can be….

In Pendleton, the Vert Auditorium was like a world heritage museum of theatrical bad practice and unsafe infrastructure. In my early years, we were still reliant on the 70-year old original lighting console, installed when the building was erected during the Great Depression. Needless to say, we had many a blackout during rehearsal. Later on, the City splurged for a new console, but one with a needlessly complicated and arcane programming system which needed occasional exorcisms. Part of the problem there was also that the lighting infrastructure was not where it needed to be- the apron was designed to be lit from pipes on the balcony, rather than from a catwalk or bar directly in front of the proscenium. What all-too-many facilities managers fail to realize about orchestras is that front and side lighting, so useful in theatre, is bad news. When the musician tries to look at their music and up at the conductor, lights coming from anything less than about an 80 degree angle go straight in their eyes, blinding them and causing migraines and foul moods.  Life improved immeasurably in the Vert when John Wilson showed up- he knows all about lights, and proved adept at exorcising the various demons and gremlins from the console. Of course, the heating continued to be a nightmare, but that’s another story…..

Perhaps the difficulties at the Vert were more to do with ancient equipment and a lack of infrastructure where we most needed it. What’s really frustrating, however, is when you have lighting problems in a facility where you know everything can work and it doesn’t. I can think of one venue that used to give me some measure of frustration at the way we always seemed to spend the first 10 minutes of the dress rehearsal getting the lights right. Finally, things melted down one day and we spent a full 20+ minutes farting around with lights in a dress rehearsal, after which I had a frank and honest discussion with the lighting technician. After that, we went many years without further problems- for the first 10 or so concerts after that discussion he would ask at the beginning of the rehearsal if everything was okay, and every time it was. After that, he didn’t need to ask, and we didn’t need to worry.

Then, at our most recent concert, he was sick and it was like they’d never had an orchestra in the building. The technician wasn’t even there when we started- someone had to run find him in the lobby reading the paper. Then, he traded darkness for blindness, as he switched on all the low-hanging spotlights in the house, inducing a sudden epidemic of migraines in the cellos. He got quite stroppy and defensive with the orchestra, too. Not good enough. A few weeks earlier, I had a similar meltdown at another regular venue- the lights were a disaster throughout the dress rehearsal, then, the technician “broke” the console for the concert (ie- forgot how to escape the wrong program configuration), so the first half of the concert was played using house lights and work lights. It was pretty soul destroying for all concerned.

One thing I really don’t get is why so many folks are always in such a hurry to  get to the lobby and start texting their girlfriend before the rehearsal has even started. When I worked stage crew it was because I loved being in the theatre. I wanted to be there, not anywhere else, and I took real pride in trying to make the stage look good. I still miss it terribly! I realize lighting an orchestra has got to be one of the most boring gigs a lighting technician can have, but it’s also an easy one to screw up. The only thing more obnoxious than leaving your post just because you don’t have much to do has to be leaving your post when you do have something to do. Last fall, I did a contemporary piece with some lighting cues in the score. I told the technician exactly when in the rehearsal we would need him, and he still wasn’t there, and the cues didn’t get rehearsed. Then, after slightly screwing them up in the concert (although it wasn’t a complete disaster), he had the nerve to ask if everything was okay. If he had cared whether it was okay, he would have been there in the rehearsal. Showing you care means doing the job right, not asking for praise.

Here are my top tips for running a great venue for acoustic music.

Lighting-

1-    Think about what the musicians need. They need to be able to see their music clearly and to see the conductor (if there is one) clearly. Make sure you’re getting enough light on the music that it’s easy to read.

2-    Think about what the musicians don’t need. Horizontal lighting looks great at rock concerts or in theatre, but it blinds musicians who are much more actively engaged in looking in specific directions for long periods of time than actors, who are moving constantly (and not reading).

3-    Think about what the audience needs. They want to see faces, especially that of the soloist. They don’t want anyone looking green or blue or sat in the dark.

4-    Rehearsals are for rehearsing. A good setup means everything is ready to go at the beginning of rehearsal. One second of work on lights in an orchestra rehearsal is a HUGE admission of failure. It should NEVER happen.

5-    Don’t ask questions in rehearsal or before. The musicians are there to focus on the music, not to reassure you you’ve done a good job, nor to train you in how to do your job. Certainly don’t interrupt the rehearsal to ask if everything is okay. Believe me, if there is a problem, we’ll tell you. Assuming you are there….

6-    Be there. Don’t be in the lobby, don’t be in the basement, don’t go for a smoke. Be where you can hear us and where you can see if there are problems.

7-    No surprises, please. Don’t make the lights 20% brighter in the concert than in the rehearsal, or the other way round. Just get the levels right, and consistent every time.

8-    If you can be an artist without messing things up, please do. The lighting designer at the Two Rivers Festival does a masterful job of making the Bushel Hall seem like a magic space with his evocative but completely functional lighting. I always liked the lights at the Scotia Festival in Halifax. We played in front of a white scrim there, so the lighting team could change the color scheme from piece to piece or movement to movement. They took their work very seriously, working very hard in the dress rehearsals to make the lighting interesting and specific for each piece. Although they would run a different look for each combination of instruments or piece, I can’t think of any rehearsal or concert that was ever delayed or disrupted by them. In both cases, the artistic lighting is sorted and in place for the dress rehearsal, so everyone knows what to expect in the concert.

9- Don’t get snippy or defensive. If the musicians are all yelling at once about which light is blinding them or who can’t see their music, it is your fault entirely. Own it and take it on the chin.

10- People say that time is money. It’s worse than that- you can always get more money if you run out. Rehearsal time is finite, and can never be replaced. Every second counts.

Staging-

1-    If you are setting up and platforms, make sure it’s done early enough so that the lighting can be properly focused for them.

2-    Always make sure there are toe-rails on the back and ends of platforms so nobody dies

3-    Have extra toe-rails available if the orchestra are doing the setup, just in case they forget one

4-    Be realistic about how much space each player needs. Work well with the orchestra in understanding how much room is needed.

Heating and cooling

1-    I could write volumes about rehearsals spent in misery because it was impossibly hot or cold onstage. Make it comfortable, and account for the heat produced by the lights.

2-    Instruments just don’t function below a certain temperature, and neither do fingers. Yes we can put on a sweater, but the violin can’t. The wood doesn’t vibrate as it should. If we tell you  its too cold, it’s an emergency and needs to get  sorted right away. It’s a good idea to check the stage 30 minutes before a rehearsal to make sure it is comfortable. It’s really bad for it to be too hot, but worse for it to be too cold. I recently did a recording project where the heating didn’t work properly for 3 days in a brand new, state-of-the-art facility. 10 minutes in the cold when people are paying to use the hall is too long. Three days is completely beyond the pale. Also, playing in the cold can be torture for players with arthritis.

The interview was published in the Gál Society Newsletter in 2010, and is reproduced here by permission.

Q: A general question: what do you regard as most fundamental regarding the art of composition?

HG: That’s a question difficult to answer concisely. One thing is impossible to define rationally: the primary urge, the which is the source of artistic expression in general, and is obviously the soul of the matter. The only thing one can talk about is what takes place on the level of consciousness. An all important thing, of course, is spontaneous invention, combined with the trained capacity of accepting or rejecting it, or transforming it into the proper shape. The shrewdest remark on this matter I can remember came from Richard Strauss, whom I was fortunate to meet at several occasions. The start of “Rosenkavalier” was mentioned, and Strauss said, thoughtfully: “Yes,- the first four bars are a gift of the Gods; then it becomes difficult”. Well, I have a conscientious objection against the term “inspiration”, the only one we have for it in English. It sounds terribly pretentious! In German we call it “Einfall”, “impromptu”in French, something that drops into our mind, as it were accidentally, and this is what it really is. Who hasn’t got it should never put a note on paper, and who has got it cannot be careful enough in accepting it, or rejecting it out of hand. This is probably the most essential thing in composition. There is another: continuity of the flow of events. Scraps never add up to a tolerable piece of music. This is why there is no music for me without form, a clear design, and form is not a ready-made mould but a pattern of events that has to be found individually for every individual work, a pattern resulting from the thematic content and its peculiar conditions. So there is every time a new problem to be solved with patience and with the combination of intuitive feeling and critical awareness without which no artistic achievement is possible. Like good prose, good music must be a coherent, well reasoned argument, based on a clear statement of facts.

Q: Being a pianist, do you compose at the piano?

HG: A piano player is always in communion with his instrument. But since my earliest beginnings, with a reliable ear, I became used to be independent of the piano when composing. What one writes for piano is necessarily very much a matter of two hands on the keyboard and must be tested on the keyboard. But I had a hard upbringing and had to learn at an early stage not only to be independent of the piano. As a boy, I sat in my tiny room, just big enough for a table a chair and a bookstand, and composed when next door three sisters of mine did their piano practice. I would be hesitant in recommending this heroic kind of training to others. But it did the trick for me, and at least some of this capacity of concentrating I have retained through life. Well, I’ve told you of my opera, written on a high mountain pass and far from any piano. Another wartime situation, more than 20 years later, springs to my mind. In summer 1940 I spent several months behind barbed wire as an enemy alien, first at Huyton, nearLiverpool, then on the Isle of Man. In Huyton, among about 2000 prisoners, with intense boredom and not even a piano available, I found in the end three tolerable musicians who had taken their instruments with them, a flute and two violins. So I wrote a trio for this unlikely combination, called “Huyton Suite”. It provided fun for the players and a great many listeners but it was only published last year, together with another two trios for one woodwind and two string instruments.

Q: You mentioned keys: what do you think of tonality?

HG: Well I do believe in tonality as much as I believe, say, in gravitation; I have it in

my musical constitution, and I cannot imagine music without tonality. In my consciousness, tonality is as firm as a rock. But I have never theorized about it. We are subject to gravitation, but we have learnt that weightlessness exists. So atonality may exist, but I cannot imagine it any more than I can imagine weightlessness. I am speaking of myself; I have accepted the fact that people can live without weight and without tonality. I am afraid I can’t.

Q: What place did performing take in your professional life?

HG: As I’ve told you, I started as a pianist and accompanist when I was young and, much later, in this country, I even gave piano recitals. When I had left school at 18, I did consider the possibility of a conductor’s career. I gave up this idea, however, when I went to the University, and after my graduation I could find a modest living as a teacher, and writing music was so much the centre of my life that I could not make up my mind to give up my independence. But I jumped at every opportunity for conducting. For a num- ber of years I was in charge of music at a playhouse inVienna. Later, in the 20s, al- ways passionately interested in vocal music, I founded the Vienna Madrigal Society, at that time the only chorus inVienna who performed unaccompanied vocal music. It existed until the Anschluss in 1938. Dur- ing all these years, I had frequent occasions to conduct my operas — usually without an orchestral rehearsal, just taking over a repertory performance — and this contributed to my developing a reliable technique as a conductor. InMainz I was in charge of a very competent student orchestra; the training of orchestral musicians was an important part of our activity, and so was the training of singers for the operatic stage; and a large mixed chorus was attached to the institute. I had to conduct a cycle of symphony and oratorio concerts, and also operatic performances at the theatre. Back inVienna in 1933, I conducted, beside the Madrigal Society, which had maintained itself meanwhile, a newly-formed ensemble, the Vienna Concert Orchestra. So, without ever having had the ambition of a conductor’s career, I was always in charge of one ensemble or another, also, later on, here inEdinburgh. Well, I always had an urge to do music actively and did it all my life, as I am still doing for myself. But I am afraid I could not have been a professional conductor, properly speaking; I am all but physically unable to perform music I dislike. Doing music is, as I see it, an act of love. Doing it without, resembles dangerously the oldest trade in the world.

Q: Which were your relations to your colleagues inVienna? And did you belong to any group, did you follow any flag, so to speak?

HG: My personal relations to so many musicians in Vienna, of my generation or older ones, were always very friendly. I was never personally acquainted with Schoenberg, but Berg was a friend of mine and we met often, especially since in 1929 we became members of the jury of the Allgemeiner Deutscher Musikverein, who gave a festival of contemporary music every year. Several works of mine had their first performances at these occasions. I was on friendly terms with Webern too, and I had pleasure when, after a performance of a very difficult choral work of his, “Entflieht auf leichten Kähnen”, which I did with my Madrigal Society, he told me it was the first time he had heard it sung in tune. But as to a group, I never belonged to one. At that time I felt instinctively, really, what I know now retrospectively: that I had too little in common with anyone of my contemporaries, and my early developed sense of quality [resulted] in a strong reaction of critical discrimination. I had a great many friends among composers, inVienna as well as In Germany. But I never found any with whom I could have agreed regarding principal tenets.

Q: Could you define what you would regard as of principal importance?

HG: Yes, clarity. Opaque, muddy sound was always a horror to me. A transparent texture was always my chief aim and demand, and this regards my style of performing as much as my ideal as a composer. The hypertrophical orchestral splash fashionable when I was young appealed as little to me as, later in the twenties, “new classicism” and its ideal of an emaciated sound that always reminded me of St. Anthony who ate grasshoppers in the desert What I became more and more intolerant against is what I call dirty sound, the sound of a badly used piano pedal. To put it bluntly: if I were very hard up one day, I would seriously consider to sell the pedal of my piano.

Q: Are you stimulated by an actual demand, by a suggestion of writing something for an occasion, by a commission or something of this kind?

HG: An actual demand has always been a strong temptation for me, a temptation I could not easily resist. I have published quite a number of works that were stimulated by such a suggestion. I’ve written music for recorders, for groups of fretted instruments and for all kinds of vocal ensembles — and even for such an odd combination as the “Huyton Suite” mentioned before. A proposition of this kind was always a stimulus to my imagination, a challenge to find the proper technique for a peculiar ensemble. Apart from the satisfaction of writing for an actual occasion, an actual demand, I have always regarded the big chasm between the composer and his audience, which is a fatal phenomenon of our time, as the greatest danger for music. The only really direct approach to music is to do it oneself. And the composer who does something to bridge the gap, to write music for the consumer, acquires merit.

Q: Did you not also write some books in order to bridge that gap, to make music understood by the reading public?

HG: Yes, I did. But I had never the ambition of being a writer. It happened, so to speak, accidentally: my books were side effects of my lifelong activity and of a natural urge to make as much music as possible my own by intense study, to know as much about it as possible. I never wrote a book on my own: they came owing to suggestions by publishers both German and English. But doing it, I tried to do it as well as I could, writing prose with as much care for every detail as I am used to write music.

Q: And what are you writing now — music or prose?

HG: I am suffering of an old superstition: I never speak about anything in my workshop before it is finished; at this stage there is still a danger of abortion. Well, there is something on my desk and I hope there will always be as long as I am healthily alive. I have inverted the device of Descartes; my motto is “sum ergo cogito”: being alive, I must think, — be it music or prose.

Readers of this blog will know that Ken is a great enthusiast for composers like Shostakovich, Sibelius, Elgar and Schumann – among many others. His taste is catholic, and he is even open to composers found on the fringes of musical history like Hans Gal and Havergal Brian. And why not? These are unusual talents who, in other circumstances, might have reached much greater prominence. But there is one influential personality who, if he were alive today, would consider such taste highly regressive, and that person is Theodor Adorno (1903-69) the German philosopher and occasional composer. His influence was keenly felt by a whole generation of composers through texts such as Philosophy of Modern Music and his short book on Mahler. His polemic in favour of Schoenberg and against Stravinsky set the agenda for much academic debate in musical circles after 1945. He drew the ideological battle-lines which still to some extent persist today. Composers are meant to be either avant-garde or traditional, and only the former was considered politically correct. Adorno’s endorsement of serialism as the only morally legitimate method of composition ensured that Schonberg and his music would remain centre-stage through the latter part of the 20C.

Adorno’s views grew out of the deeply pessimistic outlook of the German Naturalistic movement, which was a philosophical approach derived partly from Hegel and Schopenhauer. This Weltanschauung was best represented by Büchner’s play about the tragic everyman Woyzek, later realised to perfection in Berg’s opera, Wozzeck. Adorno had been taught composition by Alban Berg and had great respect for him, although he was uncomfortable with the lyrical side of his music. The Naturalistic School looked at Nature objectively and, while not denying its spiritual aspect, they observed that Man was essentially Nature’s victim. Vast impersonal forces, hostile and brutal, create a world devoid of any feeling and compassion, where beauty is routinely crushed and the individual inevitably misunderstood. The human predicament is thus hopeless, because our struggle for survival warps truth, warps society and warps our souls.

It is an unpromising basis for musical aesthetics, but Adorno argued that new music must reveal this repugnant social order. He believed that we live in a society corrupted by greed, lies and the abuse of power. Vulgar commercialism, manipulative sentimentality and empty fantasy thus obscure our understanding. We are all addicted to these distortions because we cannot bear to face the truth they conceal about our moral emptiness and soulless lives. In his opinion, only Schonberg really had the courage to tell us how it really is, because he was willing to accept the humiliation and aesthetic failure which would inevitably follow from speaking truth. Adorno sets the bar very high in defining what it is takes truly to affront common taste. Even music as harrowing as Shostakovich is dismissed as a “feeble mixture of compositional facility and helplessness”. Stravinsky, Britten and Sibelius are dismissed in the same way, while Elgar is beneath contempt. Adorno argued that music which achieves any kind of popularity or critical consensus must by definition be flawed, because it can only succeed by succumbing to bourgeois values. Writing symphonies in traditional forms, using tonality and making extra-musical references were ways to appease the collective. For this reason, he made no apology for preferring Schonberg’s “inhuman coldness” to Berg’s “magnanimous warmth”.  Adorno was the condemning voice of the puritan; Moses berating Aaron with his tablets of stone.

Adorno of course was a Hegelian and a Marxist, who liked a good argument and believed that there could be no middle way. Blandness, he suggested, i.e. the spirit of compromise, was evidence of exactly the feeble mindedness which makes human society a mess. As a Hegelian, he believed that the artist of genius had to adopt an extreme critical stance, because progress could not otherwise be made. His motivations were idealistic, even Utopian, in aspiration. Like all demagogues, Adorno held out a vision of the perfect music which would be written in the perfected society, and condemned the rest.

Adorno was at the height of his influence just after the Second World War, when German culture was still in shock after the Nazi debacle. His case for a polemical kind of new music was very much part of the soul-searching of the day. The German people were asking – where did it all go wrong? His diagnosis was simple. Beneath the veneer of high civilisation lurked ugly barbarism which needed only a little encouragement to come to the surface. The pleasing veneer of popular Romantic music – with its worn out formulae and beauty of sound blunted the critical faculties and encouraged delusion. Hitler could listen to Parsifal and dream absurd visions of racial purity but validated by great art.  Adorno, like many Germans, felt considerable guilt that the nation’s wonderful tradition of music had not saved the German soul from calamity. If music had given Hitler a picture of his damaged soul instead of filling his head with Romantic fantasies, then perhaps he would have seen the error of his ways. Yes, this all seems very convincing, playing upon collective guilt and our general distaste for many aspects of the contemporary world. There is plenty to provoke misanthropic feelings, and if you are a German, the Nazi experience would trouble your conscience indeed. Adorno felt justified in his belief that music should express anxiety and despair, because it was the natural human condition. Any hint of optimism, any harmonious resolution or positive conclusion would thus have been a falsification of reality. The composer, he argued, must be resolute in standing against consensus and be prepared to suffer accordingly.

But how should music speak to power? How should composers speak to power? It has never been an easy question with a simple answer. Only in the Romantic period did composers begin to imagine that they had the right to speak to power at all. Before that they were hired lackeys, who might only dare, like Haydn, occasionally to make a joke at their patron’s expense. But generally, whether a composer’s salary was paid by Church, State or an aristocratic patron, he did as he was told. But then came Beethoven, who rewrote the contract between composer and society, adopting a more visionary and critical stance. By the end of the 19C, the tensions between the individual artist and society had reached a point of rupture. Oddly, it was the breaking down of old power structures that finally set the artist adrift. He had once had a clear focus for his rebellion, but in more liberal societies, there was often just incoherence and aimlessness to attack. New freedoms descended into the vulgarity of consumerism; probably a worse settlement for the composer than working as a hired hand. In a society governed by market economics and the interests of the masses, holding up high aesthetic values became increasingly difficult. This was the problem foreseen by the Naturalist movement and which Adorno used as the basis of his moral arguments.

But let us lay the ghost of Adorno to rest. Some of his assumptions are just wrong. The most glaring error is the assumption that music has to be moral at all. That was something grafted on to it by Beethoven and the Romantics. Music can certainly be used in that way, but moral music is not a guarantee of good music. Debussy and Chopin were morally neutral in expression, yet their music is still wonderful. Sibelius’ music became greater, the more he moved away from expressing nationalistic aspirations, turning a distinctively national voice into a profoundly personal one. Shostakovich often expressed deep ambivalence about the society around him, yet he was a patriot in a time of war. Still there was plenty of nihilistic feeling in his music and a not-so-hidden agenda of social critique. Yet Adorno could hear in this music only evidence of pandering to popular taste and fatuous traditionalism. But is that in any way fair? Composers are not superhuman. They have to exist in the real world, and it is often a mean real world. This means making compromise, sometimes quite cruel compromise. There are limits to what any individual can do to redeem the flaws of the society around them. If they want to communicate with the public, they have to speak intelligibly, but if they end up banned, in jail or dead, then their voice will have been very effectively silenced. Music may well need a higher purpose to justify itself in our modern world, but it cannot be judged by moral absolutes. Composers and artists are not solely responsible for the moral condition of their society, nor is it necessarily their job to change it. The composer as Messiah bearing a Utopian vision has a strange echo of Hitler’s desire to redeem a nation. Arguably Shostakovich’s very human stance – full of equivocation and inner torment, or Berg’s “magnanimous warmth” are much more appealing to us than any abstract idealism, because we can share compassion for their predicament. We recognise in them our own flawed humanity, for they do not wag the finger at us, chiding us for our impotence before authority. This is closer to our experience. We struggle to know what is right – and sometimes survival has the greater priority.

Moral absolutism can become as much a tyranny as any lack of morality. That is the message of Schoenberg’s opera Moses und Aron. The same applies to our judgements about the relative merits of composers and the saintliness or otherwise of their lives? Hans Gal and Schoenberg were both Viennese Jews forced into exile. Gal was humiliated by internment, but went on to have a long and successful life as a musicologist and composer living in Britain. Gal did not succumb to serialism, but is he then to be accused of being a regressive bourgeois? Are we to say that Gal was feeble-minded for holding to tradition, despite his suffering, while the saintly Schoenberg risked all? Yet their day to day lives were more or less the same, for Schoenberg was also a university teacher in California, bringing up a family and playing tennis with Gershwin. So for all his angry protests against bourgeois values, his hair-shirt was worn only part of the time. He thoroughly enjoyed his notoriety, just as Gal was content with his obscurity. Schoenberg‘s music has its place. He explores a territory of psycho-pathology which is unique and very much of its time, but there is also a lot of posturing mixed up with it. In his complexity and self-contradiction, he is no different to Shostakovich. The problem with Schoenberg is his claim to martyrdom, when in truth he was just as vain and just as fond of bourgeois comforts as everyone else. Perhaps Gal was just less ambitious and more honest about what kind of life he wanted to lead.

It is perhaps inevitable as creative artists are no longer tied so closely to social authority, that they find themselves speaking for marginal voices in complex societies. Yet composers and musicians are not obliged to be social activists, great political leaders or heroic resistance fighters. Our society is nothing like the totalitarian world of Shostakovich or Germany under the Nazis, and it is wise to remember that before we criticise Richard Strauss or any number of artists who ever became badly entangled in the rotten politics around them. Our own times reveal a society made up of many backgrounds, shades of opinion, levels of experience and stages of development. From these groups we may define many possible audiences for new music. Adorno’s branding of all but the most intellectually enlightened as enslaved to false consciousness is a tad judgemental and not likely to win many converts. If Adorno were correct, then there would be no appetite for tragic works of art at all, because audiences would want only diversion, entertainment and blandness. There are a lot of people who do, but the current high level of interest in music by Mahler, Shostakovich, Britten and Sibelius shows that there are many individuals grappling with deep questions who consider music one way to explore them. Labelling all listeners as vacuous is just an angry gibe diverting from awareness of one’s own moral failings by projecting them upon others. The puritan is usually a hypocrite.

Finally, while anxiety and despair are frequent experiences for modern Man, they cannot be considered his natural condition. We instinctively seek harmony and balance, and it is not surprising therefore that art which claims to speak only of an unbearable truth finds little sympathy with the public. Mahler, who speaks to power with great eloquence, may show us despair, but also the path that leads away from it – with the single exception of the Sixth Symphony. But in that work, the tragic outcome elicits our compassion and not simply horror, because Mahler resists the onslaught so stubbornly. To sing of life’s pain with such heroic defiance requires that he does not abjure the possibility of redemption, until his last energy is spent. After all, it is the totality of human experience which feeds creative impulses, not just the positive or the negative in isolation. So we should lay the ghost of Adorno to rest, and speak to the divisive power of his polemical writings. Let music be a humane art, expressed honestly between flawed creatures. May it be filled with as much “magnanimous warmth” as we can muster!

Peter Davison

Beethoven 5

Brahms 1

Bruckner 8

and

Shostakovich 8

When I saw the two great Beethoven and Brahms works alongside the Shostakovich, I was hugely struck by the contrast in affect.

For Beethoven and Brahms, the move from C minor to C major was probably the ultimate musical embodiment of affirmation, of triumph. C major to them was the key of Earthly celebration, defined by the rumbustious trumpet-and-drums music Mozart and Haydn loved to write. The move from tragic C minor to the joyful purity of C major symbolized the most unambiguous possible resolution to struggle and uncertainty.

This paradigm is not unique to these two works. Mendelssohn and Schubert both wrote extraordinary C minor symphonies early in their careers which end joyfully in C major (albeit without the element of weight and drama present in Beethoven 5 and Brahms 1).  Bruckner used the transformation from C minor to C major as the lynchpin of no less than three of his symphonies, including the epic Eighth, a work which seems to take this kind of affirmative journey from darkness to light about as far as it can possibly go.

Mahler seemed to sense that after Beethoven, Brahms and Bruckner, a new solution to the “problem” of C minor had to be found. Perhaps for him, the darkness of C minor was so powerful (it’s hard to think of a darker, bleaker movement than the opening funeral march of the Resurrection) that his C minor symphony (the 2^nd) needed to travel further- not just to C major, but to E-flat major.

If Brahms 1 and Beethoven 5 are as certain in their affirmation of triumph over adversity as their troubled creators could make them, Shostakovich 8 makes a quite shocking contrast. Although it ends with a long stretch of C major, it is a deeply troubling and troubled work. Mahler was a modern enough man to see that C major was far to simplistic a solution to the problems of a C minor world. He believed there was a more nuanced answer to be found- that we could escape and transcend suffering and despair, but that the solution would always be complex and messy- the solution to C minor might be E-flat, or the solution to C-sharp minor might be D major. Life doesn’t neatly tie up all loose ends like a Victorian novel.

But if Mahler came to see that C major wasn’t quite an adequate solution to C minor, Shostakovich sometimes seems to hint at something far darker- that C major may actually be, if not the opposite of heavenly resolution of life’s C minor problems, at least a kind of musical Purgatory. A static world without hope, where battles have stalled but no peace has been made nor victory won. It’s as if Shostakovich tells us “be careful what you wish for- a simple solution to a complex problem is no solution at all. Ask for C major, and you may be trapped there forever.” The last five minutes of Shostakovich 8 are an unsettling mixture of cold, aimless wanderings and moments of heart-wrenching lyrical vulnerability. By the end of the piece you don’t know if that 2 minute long C major chord in the violins is the happiest or the saddest thing you’ve ever heard. Which is more troubling- the C minor ending of the Fourth or the C major ending of the Eighth? It’s the Eighth that makes me cry every time.

How the sheen of innocence has fallen from what was once the most pristine of keys.

What happened to C major? How could it come to express such existential  twilight and despair?

I think the process began with Schubert. To me, the C major of the Cello Quintet exists in a different spiritual realm than the pomp and earthiness of Mozart’s version of the key (or Beethoven’s). To me, the C major of the Cello Quintet is very much of the next world- the sound of the next chapter of existence beyond this life. Brahms, ever conservative, needed C major to be the same point of reference it was in Beethoven 5 and Mozart’s Jupiter. He needed it to be a solid rock, from which he could build. Schumann, the radical, unearthed new complexities and ambiguities for C major in his Second Symphony. Where Beethoven used C major to celebrate the end of struggle, Schumann uses it to embody struggle, writing of the first movement of his C major 2^nd Symphony that “I sketched it at a time when I was ailing, and I may well state that it was, as it were, the power of resistance of spirit that has influenced my work, and by which I have tried to prevail against my physical condition”.

If Schubert’s use of C major opens a window into the next dimension, Sibelius’s take on the key seems even more complex. His Third Symphony seems to be a relatively innocent work- at least it begins and ends innocently enough. However, the Finale is strangely ambivalent. It starts with seeming naivety, but quickly dissolves into some of the strangest and most harmonically wayward music he ever wrote, and the triumphalism of the very ending seems designed to ring just a little hollow. It’s as if he is saying “things may be absolutely terrible, but if we celebrate long enough and loudly enough, we may get to the end in one piece.” Heard in context, the triumphant C major ending almost sounds like a critique of triumphant C major endings.

But it is in his Seventh Symphony that Sibelius’s vision of C major is most troubling and haunting. I once explained his use of C major in this piece to a student when he wondered why I found the piece so tragic when C major was, after all, such a sunny key? I argued it is “still a key of light, of sunshine, but it’s the last 20 minutes of twilight at the Arctic Circle before the endless night of winter sets in. When that last C major chord finally resolves it is like looking into the sun, as it boils in the horizon, never to return.” In Sibelius 7, C major is light, and light is music, and the piece is kind of a farewell to music, at least to the symphony.  If Beethoven 5 and Brahms 1 use the key of C major to portray the ultimate in certainty, Sibelius uses the same key to evoke the ultimate mix of joy and despair.

And what of Mahler? Two of his symphonies end in C major. Is his C major the same worldly celebration as Mozart, Beethoven and Brahms, or something more complex and ambivalent, as in the work of Schubert and Sibelius?

The Finale of his Seventh is very much C major trumpet and drums music- obviously harking back to the symbolism of the key as understood by Mozart in the Jupiter and Wagner in Die Meistersinger (which he quotes).  In its hyper-complex virtuoso writing, it could almost be a parody of those two works. Wagner used C major to symbolize communal celebration- I think Mahler does the same thing in the 7^th, but his community is more realistic. The Finale of Mahler 7 is a village party full of real, noisy, smelly complicated people.  It’s not so much that he doesn’t believe in the joyful, Mozartian side of C major, it’s that he wants to show the complexities, and flaws of a C major world. It’s C major without the Disney treatment. C major with ugly people, with dog crap on the streets, with farts and out of tune village bands, seedy street vendors and bullying cops. It’s like musical Mardi Gras- a great time is had by all, but you wouldn’t want to come back the next morning to clean up the vomit.

Mahler’s other great C major Finale is Der Abschied from Das Lied von der Erde. In this great movement, Mahler makes explicit what Schubert implies- that you’re never going to have the pure radiance of C major transcendence in a C minor world. Real C major, real freedom from suffering comes not from victory in earthly struggle, but in acceptance that life is struggle, acceptance of the finality of life, and the embrace of need to discover what comes next. I’m sure that Shostakovich had the ending of Das Lied in mind when he wrote the final pages of his Eighth Symphony. Was he daring to hope for Mahlerian transcendence? And is the end of the work a fulfilment of that hope, or does the beautiful image of  C major simply die away when he can no longer sustain its dying light? Does it meld into eternity, or simply die away into silence. A pessimist might point out that the last word in the score is morendo.

As another great 20^th. C. composer once said- there is still a lot of great music to be written in C major.

And so there is.

But what will C major mean 100 years after Shostakovich 8?

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From Mr. Sherman’s website:

Dec. 5, 2011- Talk-show host/interviewer supreme Charity Nebbe is having me on her show, Talk of Iowa, tomorrow to review the top classical CDs of 2011. Here’s what will cover, as well as some others that probably should have made the list:

1) J.S. Bach’s Partitas 3, 4, and 6 played by Jeremy Denk, who gets so many of the movements so amazingly and uniquely right that it will be on my Bach top-ten list (TK) alongside records by the like of Gidon Kremer and John Butt.(Azica)
2) JS Bach et al. by Heinz Holliger with the Camerata Bern and Erich Hobarth (ECM)
3) LV Beethoven’s Symphonies and Overtures by Riccardo Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus - as great as everyone’s saying (Decca)
4) Hector Berlioz – “The Ghost of a Rose,” sung by Lorraine Hunt Lieberson; such a genius (PBP)
5) Franz Liszt – The Lake of the Wallenstadts played by Nelson Freire - bewitching. Liszt CDs kept showing up all year, but this one I’ll return to. (DG)
6) Nico Muhly, “Seeing Is Believing” - Hearing is believing. What a gift.(Decca)
7) Maurice Ravel, complete piano music played by Steven Osborne on Hyperion
8 ) Scarlatti sonatas played by Alexandre Tharaud (Virgin)
9) Franz Schubert’s Unfinished Sonata in C, which Paul Lewis plays as if he’s composing it then and there. Moves forward completely naturally, and yet sounds like he’s discovering those magical modulations on the spot. (Says Lewis: ” it is a piano redaction of an unfinished orchestral score, much of it un-harmonised, so you have to realise the implied symphonic harmonies; there are colours you have to realise.” He does.) Two CDs full of great music and great playing. (Harmonia mundi)
10) Robert Schumann’s “Rhenish” Symphony by the Orchestra of the Swan led by Kenneth Woods. The Gal is a real find, especially the slow movement; and the Schumann is a joy after the many punched-up but four-square performances I’ve suffered through.  (Avie)
11) Charles Ives – the Violin Sonatas, for the glorious violin playing of Hillary Hahn and her incredible new teammate, well-known in Iowa, pianist Valentina Lisitsa (DG)
12) Trio Mediaeval. “A Worcester Ladymass” (ECM)
13) NPR ADDS: Mahler Symphony no. 2 with the London Philharmonic led by Vladimir Jurowski (sounds alluring!);
14) The Maltese Tenor, Joseph Calleja;

Hey- we beat Hillary Hahn and Joseph Calleja!

Sherman’s wonderful book Performing Brahms (written with Michael Musgrave) is a gem, and is something I refer to often. It’s stacked on top of my Brahms 2 score for March right now. Every conductor should own it. It’s always nice when people note your work, but especially when they really, really know what they’re talking about.

The Bobby and Hans project depends on the generous sponsorship of music lovers and friends of the Orchestra of the Swan. Without your help, the orchestral music of Gal will remain unheard. We hope you will give what you can to keep the music playing.

 

On Sunday 20 May 2012 the Two Rivers Festival (ww.tworiversfestival.co.uk) will present a special day-long workshop at The Bushell Hall, Birkenhead School working with an ensemble of players from the Orchestra of the Swan directed by Kenneth Woods.

Magicians of the orchestra: revealing the conductor’s art
Lecture, masterclass, concert and live recording session
including a performance of movements from
Brahms Serenade No.1 in D (arr. Boustead)

From 14.00-17.00 members of the public will be able find answers to some intriguing questions. What do orchestral conductors do? Are they wizards with magic wands or overpaid time-keepers? How can we know if they are good, bad or indifferent? What musical techniques must they master? Is success down to personality, skill or both?

In a three-part exploration of the maestro’s craft, principal guest conductor of the Stratford-based Orchestra of the Swan and founder of the Rose City International Conductor’s Workshop in the USA, Kenneth Woods will discuss the work of some of the great conductors of the past in a video-illustrated lecture. Then,  a group of young conductors are put through their paces in a masterclass. Afterwards there will be a chance for several members of the audience to try conducting for themselves. The event will end with a performance of several movements from Brahms’ delightfully lyrical first Serenade. This will be recorded live as part of a commercial CD, offering a fascinating opportunity for the public to glimpse behind the scenes of the professional musical world. Members of the public wishing to attend the session can find booking and other information here.

Two Rivers Festival is seeking to recruit for the day two or three young conductors. Selected candidates will get to conduct excerpts from Brahms’ Serenade op. 11 (in the reconstruction of the original nonet version by Anthony Boustead) which will be played by Orchestra of the Swan in a public masterclass. Successful candidates will also have the chance to observe and assist in the day’s recording sessions for the Somm label.  This is unique opportunity to gain experience working with leading professional orchestral musicians, and to experience first-hand the process of making a commercial CD for an established recording company.

When: Sunday, 20 May 2012, 09:00 – 22:00

Where: The Bushell Hall, Birkenhead School, Wirral CH43 2JD

What: Conduct in a public masterclass directed by Kenneth Woods, observe and assist during a full day of recording sessions for Somm with Orchestra of the Swan

Repertoire: Brahms Serenade op. 11 (arr. Boustead, published by Josef Weinberger)

Costs: All tuition costs for the day are generously underwritten by Two Rivers Festival and Orchestra of the Swan. Participants are responsible for their own travel costs and accommodation.

How to apply: Please submit a short CV and a video of yourself conducting to masterclass@kennethwoods.net . Applicants are strongly encouraged to send videos digitally via file-transfer service, or to link to on-line videos on personal websites, YouTube, Vimeo or similar servers. If necessary, DVD’s can be sent to: VFTP, 20 Trevethick Street, Cardiff CF11 6EB

Deadline: 21 February 2012 Applicants will be notified of their status by 21 March 2012

The Symphony has been good to C major, and C major has been good to the symphony, even though there are no Brahms, Mahler or Bruckner symphonies officially in C. Brahms 1 ends in C major (as does Beethoven 5 and Bruckner’s 8th) and C major is hugely important in Mahler’s 7th Symphony (it ends there) and Das Lied von der Erde. Still, even without Brahms, Mahler and Bruckner, C major has given us some of the greatest symphonies in the literature.

C major is where we all started when we took our first piano lessons. Perhaps this is why it is so often a key in which great composers come full circle, summing up their life’s work in the genre, as did Schubert, Mozart and Sibelius. It’s apparent simplicity can be a perfect metaphor for innocence, like the innocence that is totally and utterly shattered in the course of Shostakovich’s Leningrad Symphony. It can be festive or it can be suffused with struggle.

What is your favorite C major Symphony? Do let us know.

20- Mozart- Symphony no. 34

The brief on Mozart is that the earlier mature symphonies have the freshest musical ideas, and the later ones use and develop musical ideas with much more profound craftsmanship. His last 3 symphonies in C major are a perfect example- No. 34 has the freshest and most entrancing tunes, the Jupiter is possibly the greatest tour-de-force of compositional technique in symphonic history, made all the more impressive because the “tunes” aren’t all that interesting. No. 36 (the “Linz”) is probably somewhere in between on both counts.

19- Haydn- Symphony no. 63 “Roxelane”

Frankly, I could have filled the entire top 10 of this list with Haydn symphonies, but I decided to show pity on the other guys.  There’s no particular reason why Roxelane should be the lowest of the Haydn’s, except I got to know it through the rather cold-blooded Orpheus recording, which I never really warmed to.

18- Haydn- Symphony no. 41

Some of the best advice I ever got about Haydn came from my good friend and colleague David Hoose. He said that it’s a huge mistake that everyone starts their exploration of Haydn with the London symphonies because by that point his language had become so sophisticated and polished that a less-than-expert listener can miss most of the felicities and surprises. The symphonies from the mid-20’s to the 50’s tend to be more rough-and-ready and all things considered, have more immediate impact for a lot of modern listeners. This piece is a great place to get to know what Haydn means by C major. I love the last movement!

17- Bizet- Symphony in C.

It’s a wonderful and charming piece, and quite a roast up for the violins. Its light and breezy character masks the fact that it is a huge undertaking for any orchestra. If you hear it played well, please clap loudly for the poor first fiddles. They probably endured some trying rehearsals.

15 and 16- Prokofiev- Symphony no. 4

Prokofiev fashioned this incredible work using musical ideas from his ballet The Prodigal Son. There are actually two very different versions of the piece, op 47 and op 112. Both are cool.

14- Stravinsky- Symphony in C

Pure genius- we tend to think of Stravinsky as ballet composer, but his forays into the symphony are pure gold.

13- Dukas- Symphony in C

Dukas? Isn’t he the Sorcerer’s Apprentice guy? Dukas is the one composer who makes Brahms look like he lacked the last ounce of self-criticism. Dukas was so self-critical that he only allowed about fourteen pieces to see the light of day. The upshot is that all of them are pretty darned good.  His Symphony is a masterpiece, but not easy to play- it’s especially demanding for the horns. It’s the only piece I ever saw the Cincinnati Symphony horn section ask for a break during rehearsal. Serious stuff, but incredibly enjoyable.

12- Schubert -Symphony no. 9 “The Great”

One of the most influential symphonies ever written, it had a huge impact on Schumann, Bruckner and Brahms. It seems to strike fear into the hearts of orchestral musicians and audience members in equal measure. It does, however, more than live up to its nickname, and remains one of the most important symphonies ever written, casing a long shadow on the music of later German masters.

11- Schubert- Symphony no. 6

Perverse as it seems to place this charming but slight, rather- Rossini-esque work higher in the pantheon than the “Great,” the 6^th is a work that needs more advocacy, and it is charming, funny and effective. So, here it is.

10- Stravinsky- Symphony in 3 Movements

Although it ends with a D-flat major chord, Stravinsky’s wartime masterpiece fits the legal definition of a symphony in C major, making his Symphony in C the second best symphony in C he wrote. I love this piece and never tire of it, but it’s been way too long since I conducted it.

9- Mozart- Symphony no. 36 “Linz”

Not only is Mozart 36 one of the greatest symphonies in C major ever written, it’s one of the greatest pieces of music written in less than the time it takes leftover Chinese food to go off in the fridge (four days!).  Check out Carlos Kleiber’s DVD performance with the Vienna Philharmonic. Heaven.

8- Sibelius- Symphony no. 3

A true watershed in symphonic music, and one of the most revolutionary symphonies written after Haydn, this piece marked a huge breakthrough and change of direction after Sibelius’ much-loved Second Symphony.  In this short, modestly scored and slightly understated work, Sibelius reinvents the post-Beethoven-ian symphonic model, trading closure for culmination, clarity for concision, epic drama for focused intensity. The sheer range of musical ideas and styles is awe-inspiring, from the folksy good-humor of the opening to the disjunct weirdness which opens the third movement. Sibelius would go on to develop all of the threads in this remarkable piece further in the four works that would follow it, but none of them could have been written had he not written this one first.

7- Haydn- Symphony no. 82 “Bear”

A truly inspired work, even by the Master’s standards. An incredibly beautiful slow movement, and the Finale is pure genius. And it is good to name a symphony after the mighty Ursus family. Did I mention the Finale? It’s the perfect Haydnesque balance of irresistibly catchy tunes, musical sophistication and wit. Better than Schubert 9? Better than Stravinsky’s two masterpieces in the key? Yup. It’s really that good.

6- Beethoven- Symphony no. 1

Beethoven’s first essay in the symphonic genre is sometimes overshadowed by his later works, but not on this list.

Now, we come to the top 5 symphonies in C Major, and the competition here becomes absurdly intense.  Between them you could make a good case they make a credible “Top 5 Symphonies of All-time, never mind the key.” All five have a legitimate claim to the top spot on this list.

5- Haydn- Symphony no. 60 “Il Distratto”

It’s the funniest and most modern work on this list, possibly the funniest and most modern symphony ever written. Haydn uses most of the 20^th c “isms” in this piece- surrealism, absurdism, modernism, poly-stylism, and hops effortlessly between tightly integrated symphonic argument and rapid-fire cinematic jump-cutting. This is Haydn at his absolute boldest- he undermines every expectation, and re-examines every possible assumption about music.

4- Sibelius- Symphony no. 7

A watershed in musical history, a work with no real peers. This is music in which the composer’s quest for concentration, coherence and intensity is taken as far as it can possibly go.  But that is not why Sibelius 7 is one of the greatest pieces of music ever written- it holds that status because it is so imaginative, so moving, so inspiring and so compelling.

3- Shostakovich- Symphony no. 7 “Leningrad”

At first glance, a more drastic contrast with Sibelius 7 is hard to imagine. Where the Sibelius is concise, the Shostakovich is gargantuan, where Sibelius has boiled down every gesture to its essential primal essence, Shostakovich has stretched every possibility to its maximum potential. Sibelius 7 was written for a chamber orchestra of about 40 players, Shostakovich 7 is often done with two full symphony orchestras. By the end of all of Sibelius 7, you’ve still got about 8 minutes left in the first movement of Shostakovich 7.

Sadly many Sibelius fans wouldn’t put Shostakovich 7 anywhere on this list, let alone above the Sibelius, and a regrettable  number of Shostakovich fans think Sibelius is “muddy.” The two works may pursue almost diametrically opposed aesthetic aims, but the intensity  and inspiration with which they pursue those aims is very similar. Both take their material as far as it can possibly go, just in very different directions.

Ultimately, it’s impossible to say which is the more remarkable piece of music, but Shostakovich’s Seventh is a more “public” work in the very best sense of the word.  For the good it has done for humanity in times of desperate need, I rate it that tiny bit higher.

2- Mozart- Symphony no. 41 “Jupiter”

Well, what can say about this apotheosis of symphonic music? The whole work is a delight, but owes its special place in musical history to the Finale- a contrapuntal tour de force unlike any other work of any epoch.  Mozart pushes the possibilities of counterpoint, that most intellectual of musical techniques, so far that he creates a sort of spiritual ecstasy, a pure, rapturous joy in the intoxicating abundance of idea and process.

The symphony is also fascinating for the way in which it anticipates the sort of cyclic processes that would become so important to Schumann and Schubert and all later symphonists. The seeds of the Finale are already there in the Symphony’s opening, and the theme is heard in its full glory in the 3^rd movement.

1- Schumann- Symphony no. 2

On first glance, I’m sure some music lovers will see this piece in the coveted number one spot and think it is obviously the desperate act of a guy who has to sell a recording he just made of the piece next year. Not so.  The juxtaposition with the Jupiter is more apt than one might think- although commentators often compare this work to Beethoven 5 (and there are important parallels and references in play), Schumann himself cited two main influences- Schubert’s Great C major Symphony and Mozart’s 41^st. In fact, Schumann called his own C Major Symphony “quite a Jupiter.” And so it is- similarly inspired and similarly learned. Both works are love-letters to Bach and to the communicative power of counterpoint.

So, how on Earth can I justify claiming that Schumann’s opus 62 surpasses Mozart’s masterpiece, a work many critics consider the greatest symphony ever written? Both works are full of contrapuntal felicities to boggle the mind, but Mozart is, for all its greatness, not without flaws. Some of the first movement of the Jupiter is a bit too formulaic “C major trumpet and drums” music, and its not his most harmonically inspired movement by any measure. And, even though the Finale is probably, all-in-all, the most impressive movement of symphonic music I know, I find the last few bars disappointing. The famous Coda, where Mozart gets all 6 themes going at once, promises a more inspired ending than the slightly standard-issue last 8 bars.

The Finale of the Schumann is similarly exalted (although not quite as jaw-droppingly contrapuntal), and Schumann’s inspiration carries through to the very end, when the solo timpani switches from triple to duple meter in the last 3 bars. The tension between tripled and duple meter is one of the threads that Schumann explores from the very beginning of the work, and his ending is that tiny bit more remarkable than Mozart’s because where Mozart breaks off from the symphonic process and attaches an “ending,” Schumann’s ending is the perfect, inescapable, totally organic result of all the intellectual, musical and emotional processes that have been at work throughout the piece. The more one studies Schumann 2, the more one is struck by how perfectly it balances intensity of emotion with structural depth- things don’t just “work” or move us for one reason, but for many layers of reasons. Surprises are more surprising because once we experience them, we come to understand that the result in question was always inescapable, and yet Schumann, the greatest master of misdirection after Haydn, only reveals this inevitability after the fact. It may not be the greatest symphony ever written, but it is the greatest Symphony in C Major ever written.

Surrey Mozart Players – Holy Trinity Church – 19^th November 2011

When Beethoven conducted the première of his Choral Symphony in 1824 to rapturous applause the forces deployed were not much different from those used in the Surrey Mozart Players’ conclusion to their Beethoven symphony cycle last Saturday [19^th November]. It was the inspired idea of conductor Kenneth Woods and long-standing (and just retiring) Chairman, clarinettist Alan Dewey, to invite the Guildford Chamber Choir to join them in this venture.

Any fears that the forty-strong choir would be swamped by the orchestra, which extended well into the nave of HolyTrinityChurch, were soon dispelled. Emma Curtis lent her beautiful, strong, and wide-ranging contralto voice to a superb performance of Brahms’s Alto Rhapsody, which begins with strikingly questioning tones, and moves through a soulful aria into a wonderfully soothing dénouement in which the contralto is supported by rich choral sounds from the men’s voices. The balance was superb, contributing to an excellent performance.

Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony begins with three massive orchestral movements. The first, stormy, questioning, but full of decisive melodies, requires a bold approach, which it received from Kenneth Woods’s forces. Particularly striking in this smaller-scale performance was Beethoven’s use of the classical harmonie or wind band, and for the most part the performers played excellently.  And the concluding build-up of fanfares over an insistently recurring bass was beautifully done.

The scherzo and trio were well defined and dramatic, and the contrasting instrumental groups came over well.. The beautiful Andante received a delightfully expressive performance, again with fine contributions from individual instrumentalists.

And so to the finale, beginning with that chaotic introduction; the probing of previous themes, interrupted by the insistent recitative from cellos and basses; the introduction of the great (if sometimes hackneyed) ‘Ode to Joy’ theme; and the baritone’s invocation of Beethoven’s own words to forget the sadness and break out into joy. That baritone was Michael Druiett, and he, together with Sarah Helsby-Hughes, Emma Curtis, and Ronan Busfield, made splendid individual contributions and moreover blended beautifully in passages where they all sang together. The choir sang with excitement and cohesion coupled with superb discipline, and was a fine match for the orchestra. This was a wonderful ‘Ode to Joy’.

Shelagh Godwin

for the Surrey Advertiser

I first became aware of Maestro Mäkilä when a couple of comments on VFTP led me to his excellent blog- to the best of my knowledge, Sasha was the second conductor to start and maintain a blog (VFTP was the first to survive beyond a handful of posts).  Sasha was also the clear star of the first #askaconductor event on Twitter last year.

Finnish conductor Sasha Mäkilä is gaining recognition as one of the most prominent rising talents of his generation in both the operatic and symphonic fields. He joined the conducting staff of The Cleveland Orchestra as Assistant Conductor under Maestro Franz Welzer-Möst in September 2010 after completing a three-year tenure at Orchestre National de France as Maestro Kurt Masur’s assistant.

Originally a cellist, Sasha Mäkila studied conducting at the Sibelius Academy (Finland) and at the St. Petersburg State Conservatory (Russia). He was nominated a Conducting Fellow at the American Academy of Conducting in Aspen (2009) and he was also a prize winner at the Sixth Vakhtang Jordania International Conducting Competition (USA, 2006) as well as finalist in the Suwon International Conductors Competition (South Korea, 2005).

I was particularly keen to get a Report from Sasha because his workload is a perfect demonstration of the myriad challenges faced by a staff conductor at a major orchestra. In addition to his own busy conducting schedule, Maestro Mäkilä has covered 105 classical works and 51 pops pieces for the Cleveland Orchestra in 2011. That’s a huge amount of studying and preparation- he has to know every one of these scores well enough to conduct any of them with the Cleveland Orchestra at the drop of a hat.

SASHA MÄKILÄ

REPERTOIRE REPORT 2011

REPERTOIRE CONDUCTED (CLEVELAND AND GUEST CONDUCTING)

CLASSICAL:

1. Bach – Ouverture C Major, BWV 1066
2. Beethoven – Symphony No. 3 (“Eroica”), Movement 3
3. Beethoven: Symphony No. 8
4. Brahms: Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 73
5. Britten: “Sentimental Sarabande” from Simple Symphony
6. Chadwick: “Hobgoblin” from Symphonic Sketches
7. Copland: Variations on “Simple Gifts”
8. Corigliano: Concerto for Piano
9. Crowe: How the birds came into the world
10. Dvorak: Second Movement from Symphony No. 9
11. Dvorak: Fourth Movement from Symphony No. 9
12. Dvorak: Serenade for Strings in E Major
13. Dvorák – Slavonic Dance, Op. 46 (No. 1, 5, or 8 )
14. Falla – “Ritual Fire Dance” from El amor brujo
15. Glazunov: Saxophone Concerto
16. Griebling-Haigh – Alegrias for oboe, accordion, strings, piano and percussion
17. Griebling-Haigh – Sinfonia Concertante for two oboes, bassoon and strings
18. GRIEG – Peer Gynt Suite No. 1
19. Handel – “The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba” from Solomon
20. Haydn – Symphony No. 96 (“The Miracle”), Movement 4
21. Haydn – Symphony No. 98
22. HOLST – Planets
23. Kuusisto – Kongressin jälkeen (cantata)
24. Lalo – Cello Concerto, Movement 3
25. Mozart – Overture to The Abduction from the Seraglio
26. PROKOFIEV – Classical Symphony
27. PROKOFIEV – Symphony No. 5 (Beyond the Score production)
28. Prokofiev: Peter and the Wolf
29. SHOSTAKOVICH – Violin Concerto No. 1
30. Shostakovich: Festive Overture, Op. 96
31. SIBELIUS – Suite from Kuolema
32. SIBELIUS – Symphony No. 1
33. SIBELIUS – Symphony No. 5
34. SMETANA – Overture from “Bartered Bride”
35. Suppe: Light Cavalry Overture
36. TCHAIKOVSKY – Rococo Variations
37. Tchaikovsky – Serenade for Strings, Movement 2
38. WAGNER: Die Meistersinger Overture

POPS:

1. Alpert: Midnight Sun
2. Ellington: Come Sunday
3. Ellington: Prelude to a Kiss
4. Ellington: Sophisticated Lady
5. Gershwin: Overture to Girl Crazy
6. Gershwin: Overture to Strike Up the Band
7. Joplin: Entertainer
8. Mandel: The Shadow of Your Smile
9. Miller: Stairway to the Stars
10. Porter: Let’s Do It
11. Porter: My Heart Belongs to Daddy
12. Richman: Western Fanfare
13. Rodgers: My Favorite Things
14. Strayhorn: Lush Life
15. Ward: America the Beautiful
16. Weill: My Ship
17. Weill: Speak Low

REPERTOIRE COVERED (FOR THE CLEVELAND ORCHESTRA)

CLASSICAL:

1. ADAMS – Guide to Strange Places
2. ADAMS – Violin Concerto
3. BACH – Brandenburg Concerto No. 1
4. BACH – Cantata No. 202 (Wedding Cantata)
5. BACH – Sinfonia, from BWV209
6. BACH – Sinfonia, from BWV42
7. BACH – Suite No. 1 in C major, BWV1066
8. BACH – Suite No. 3 in D major
9. BACH – Violin Concerto in A minor
10. BACH, CPE – Cello Concerto in A major, WQ172
11. BACH, CPE – Sinfonia in D major, W183 No. 1
12. BARBER – Symphony No. 1
13. BARTOK – Piano Concerto No. 2
14. BEETHOVEN – Romance No. 2 for violin and orchestra
15. BEETHOVEN – Symphony No. 8
16. BEETHOVEN – Symphony No. 9 (“Choral”)
17. Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 4
18. BERG – Violin Concerto
19. BERLIOZ – Roman Carnival Overture
20. BERNSTEIN – Serenade
21. BIZET – Carmen, orchestral excerpts
22. Brahms: Piano Concerto No. 1
23. BRUCH – Adagio appassionato for violin and orchestra
24. BRUCH – Violin Concerto No. 1
25. BRUCKNER – Symphony No. 5
26. BRUCKNER – Symphony No. 7
27. BRUCKNER – Symphony No. 8
28. BRUCKNER – Symphony No. 9
29. COPLAND – Lincoln Portrait
30. Copland: “The Promise of Living” from The Tender Land
31. Debussy: Printemps
32. Debussy: “Rondes de Printemps” from Images
33. ELGAR – Enigma Variations
34. ENESCU – Romanian Rhapsody No. 1
35. Goldenthal: Duet from Othello
36. HANDEL – Concerto Grosso
37. HANDEL – Music for the Royal Fireworks
38. HANDEL – The King Shall Rejoice
39. HANDEL – Zadok the Priest
40. Handel : “Hallelujah” Chorus, from Messiah
41. HAYDN – Piano Concerto in D major
42. HAYDN – Symphony No. 104 (“London”)
43. HAYDN – Symphony No. 98
44. IVES – Variations on America
45. KABALEVSKY – Overture to Colas Breugnon
46. Liszt: Les Préludes
47. MENDELSSOHN – Dona Nobis Pacem
48. MENDELSSOHN – Hear My Prayer
49. MENDELSSOHN – Music from A Midsummer Night’s Dream
50. MENDELSSOHN – Symphony No. 3 (“Scottish”)
51. MENDELSSOHN – Violin Concerto
52. Menotti: Introduction, March, and Shepherds’ Dance, from Amahl and the Night Visitors
53. MOZART – Don Giovanni
54. MOZART – Horn Concerto No. 2, K417
55. MOZART – Mass in C minor, K427
56. MOZART – Piano Concerto No. 17, K453
57. MOZART – Piano Concerto No. 25 in C major, K503
58. MOZART – Symphony No. 25
59. Mussorgsky: Prelude to Khovanshchina
60. NIELSEN – Symphony No. 4 (“The Inextinguishable”)
61. OLIVERIO – Dynasty: Double Concerto for Timpani
62. Pierce: Night
63. PROKOFIEV – Symphony No. 5
64. Prokofiev: Violin Concerto No. 2
65. Pärt: Spiegel im Spiegel
66. Pärt: Tabula Rasa
67. Rachmaninoff: Piano Concerto No. 2
68. RAVEL – Boléro
69. RAVEL – La Valse
70. SAINT-SAËNS – Symphony No. 3 (“Organ Symphony”)
71. SARASATE – Gypsy Airs
72. SCHÖNBERG – Pelleas and Melisande
73. SIBELIUS – Symphony No. 7
74. Sibelius: Violin Concerto
75. STRAUSS, JOHANN JR: Overture to Die Fledermaus
76. STRAUSS, JOHANN JR: Polka: Auf der Jagd (“At the Hunt”)
77. STRAUSS, JOHANN JR: Polka: Im Krapfenwaldl (“In Krapfen’s Woods”)
78. STRAUSS, JOHANN JR: Polka: Tritsch-Tratsch
79. STRAUSS, JOHANN JR: Radetzky March
80. STRAUSS, JOHANN JR: The Emperor Waltz
81. STRAUSS, JOHANN JR: Waltz: On the Beautiful Blue Danube
82. STRAUSS, R. – Aus Italien
83. STRAUSS, R. – Don Juan
84. STRAUSS, R. – Ein Heldenleben
85. STRAUSS, R. – Metamorphosen
86. STRAUSS, R. – Till Eulenspiegel
87. STRAVINSKY – Agon
88. STRAVINSKY – Capriccio (for piano and orchestra)
89. STRAVINSKY – Concerto in D
90. STRAVINSKY – Divertimento from The Fairy’s Kiss
91. STRAVINSKY – Mass
92. Stravinsky: Violin Concerto in D
93. SZYMANOWSKI – Violin Concerto No. 1
94. TCHAIKOVSKY – “1812″ Overture
95. TCHAIKOVSKY – Symphony No. 4
96. TCHAIKOVSKY – Symphony No. 6 (“Pathétique”)
97. TCHAIKOVSKY – Violin Concerto
98. Tchaikovsky: Final Waltz and Finale, from The Nutcracker
99. Tchaikovsky: Pas de Deux from Swan Lake, Act III
100. Tchaikovsky: Waltz of the Flowers, from The Nutcracker
101. VASKS – English Horn Concerto
102. WAGNER – Overture to Tannhäuser
103. WEBER – Overture to Euryanthe
104. WEBERN – Im Sommerwind
105. WIDMANN – Con brio: Concert Overture

POPS:

1. Anderson: Sleigh Ride
2. Berlin: Alexander’s Ragtime Band
3. Berlin: Blue Skies
4. Berlin: Entr’acte
5. Berlin: Heat Wave
6. Berlin: How Deep Is the Ocean
7. Berlin: I Love A Piano
8. Berlin: Irving Berlin Overture
9. Berlin: Irving Berlin’s America
10. Berlin: Let’s Face the Music and Dance
11. Berlin: Play a Simple Melody
12. Berlin: Remember
13. Berlin: Sisters Medley
14. Berlin: Steppin’ Out Medley
15. Berlin: Strolling Up the Avenue
16. Berlin: There’s No Business Like Show Business
17. Berlin: What’ll I Do
18. Berlin: “God Bless America” by Irving Berlin
19. BERNSTEIN – Overture to West Side Story
20. Blake: Walking in the Air
21. Burt: Caroling, Caroling
22. Dragon: I Am An American
23. ELLINGTON – Sophisticated Lady
24. GERSHWIN – Gershwin in Hollywood
25. Gould- American Salute
26. Gould: Memorial (on “Taps”) from American Ballads
27. Gruber: Silent Night
28. JOPLIN – Maple Leaf Rag
29. Martin: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
30. Pierpont: Jingle Bells
31. Pirates Of The Caribbean — The Curse Of The Black Pearl (full soundtrack)
32. Reineke: Celebration Fanfare
33. Reineke: River Medley
34. Smith: The Star-Spangled Banner
35. SOUSA – Washington Post March
36. Sousa: National Emblem March
37. Traditional: Away in a Manger arranged by John Rutter for chorus
38. Traditional: Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabella arranged by Leroy Anderson for strings
39. Traditional: Coventry Carol arranged by Leroy Anderson for woodwinds
40. Traditional: Hark, the Herald Angels Sing, arranged by David Willcocks
41. Traditional: I Saw Three Ships arranged by Leroy Anderson for brass
42. Traditional: March-Past of the United States Armed Forces
43. Traditional: Personent hodie Traditional, arranged by Lara Hoggard
44. Traditional: Suo-gân Traditional, arranged by Mack Wilberg
45. Traditional: The First Noël Traditional, arranged by Carmen Dragon
46. Traditional: The Twelve Days of Christmas, arranged by John Rutter
47. Traditional: We wish you a Merry Christmas
48. Ward: America the Beautiful
49. Whear: Stars in the Field of Blue
50. Williams: Born on the Fourth of July
51. Williams: Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, from Home Alone 2

But that’s not what this list is about- I’m not claiming these were the “best” concerts I did this year, or that others would have necessarily thought they were particularly good gigs. These are the concerts where I most enjoyed the contributions of my colleagues, where I felt most intensely the sense of shared purpose and mutual understanding that music-making promises but so often fails to deliver. These were the gigs were I felt most like I was part of something bigger than myself- nights when we all spoke with one voice and a shared sense of commitment and involvement. Writing this post has been an exercise in thinking about what is important about a concert.  These were not all the most “important’ or prestigious dates of the year, just the nights were something special happened.

My heartfelt thanks to all my colleagues who helped make them possible.

Were you at or in any of these performances? We’d love to hear your memories of the occasion, be they good or bad. Share your thoughts in the comments section.

10- Brahms Alto Rhapsody with Emma Curtis, Guildford Chamber Choir and Surrey Mozart Players

The men of the choir were really superb and the orchestra played admirably, but at the end of the day, this performance is on here because Emma sounded so amazing singing it that I couldn’t stop almost laughing with glee… until I realized she had me in tears. She needs to record this piece with me and a great orchestra NOW. Patrons?!?!?

9- Mahler- Symphony no. 6- Wrexham Symphony Orchestra

This was bound to be a special concert, and so it was. The idea of doing Mahler 6 in out-of-the-way Wrexham was unique enough that even Norman Lebrecht was inspired to blog about it. In the  end, the concert more than lived up to the expectations. The orchestra played with tremendous intensity and focus, and it was every bit as harrowing and shattering as I’d hoped it would be. The first half of the concert was a lecture on the piece with me and Peter Davison. I learned a lot, and I think the orchestra’s performance of the full work benefited from Peter’s insights into Mahler’s life and character and  hearing my analysis of the work, then playing and deconstructing some of the thematic material right before our complete performance.

8-Schlefer/Miyagi- Haro no Umi redux, Orchestra of the Swan

Part of a memorable evening exploring new works for traditional Japanese instruments and orchestra. It was thrilling to return to James Schlefer’s magical and virtuosic Shakuhachi Concerto (watch for the CD this spring), but in a “don’t blink” kind of way. The orchestra were fantastic on very little rehearsal time. On the other hand,  James’ gently gorgeous re-imagining of one of the essential formative works of Japanese classical music was positively magical. Time and space were reorganized so that 10 minutes of music felt like the stillness of ten winters spent watching the dark water of the sea, waiting for spring.

7- Brahms- Symphony no. 1 at Surrey Hills Festival, Surrey Mozart Players

The packed house for this concert had come out to hear two of the  most exciting young soloists in the world- cellist Leonard Elschenbroich and violinist Nicola Benedeti- play concerti by Saint-Saens and Glazunov. They were fantastic. After so much glamour and razzle-dazzle, how much excitement could one hope for from a Brahms symphony played by anyone less than the Berlin Philharmonic and Eugen Jochum? Happily, nobody left at intermission, and those that stayed got a real treat. The SMP usually have to deal with a very difficult acoustic- finally, they got a chance to play in a great room, and boy did they come to life. The strings were so expressive and, most importantly, responsive, and we had some great solo playing from the winds. Sadly, the repeat the following week in our home venue wasn’t quite as special, but trading Nicola and Leonard (amazing as they were) for Sibelius 7, the perfect foil for Brahms’ most intellectual symphony, made it all worthwhile.

6- Mendelssohn- Symphony no. 1, Lancashire Chamber Orchestra

Most of the pieces on this list are big. That stands to reason- epic works are designed to be transformative and to make a lasting, profound impact on the listener. A Mahler symphony is designed to create a sense of occasion. Mendelssohn 1 may look out of place squeezed between Shostakovich 7 and Mahler 6, but only to those who don’t know the piece well. It’s very rarely played, and most performances miss the boat completely. This a serious, fiery, inspired, clever, tragic and ambitious work. I loved every minute of our time rehearsing it, and the concert was a revelation. I’d never played it nor heard it live before, and all my recordings are disappointing. This is not juvenilia, but a real masterpiece.  I particularly loved the sound of the clarinets playing bells-up a la Mahler in the chorale-prelude section of the Finale fugue.

5-Shostakovich- Symphony no. 7, Wilmslow Symphony Orchestra

Well- it was the longest concert of the year. We started the evening with Dvorak’s three epic tone poems, Nature, Life and Love. That’s probably more hard work and intensity than one needs before this most draining of symphonies. The WSO really, really dug in- the climax of the “invasion theme” in the first movement was positively apocalyptic. After over an hour of intensity, pathos, violence and drama, I was just willing there to be something more to give on the final page. To my amazement , there was. This most “slow-burn” of Finales just built and built. When we got to the last chord, I was pretty sure I’d never heard an orchestra play so loud. Then, I raised my left hand, willing them to make one last crescendo. It was like turning the volume up to infinity. I’m surprised the building is still there. The brass must have been blowing from down in the soles of their feet. Amazing.

4- Shostakovich- Symphony no. 10, Kent County Youth Orchestra

KCYO is one of my most prized gigs- I always look forward to going to work with this fantastic ensemble of young musicians, and am constantly inspired by their shared spirit and commitment. Shostakovich 10 was the main work on my first concert with them, many years ago, and that was a performance that seemed to have great resonance for many  members of the orchestra, as well as for me. I was a little nervous about returning to the same work- the orchestra is younger and, on paper at least, not as deep as it was then. I didn’t want a demonstration of how standards have suffered due to recent budget cuts. I needn’t have worried. Of course, it wasn’t flawless, but who needs flawless when you have playing of such intensity, understanding and ferocity.  Rehearsals had been incredibly tough and draining, but the orchestra took everything on board, and the improvement in 4 days was awesome, to say the least. The concert felt truly epic. DSCH 10.1 was going to be hard to top, but DSCH 10.2 was , other than some percussion counting problems, more polished, more powerful, more purposeful, and done with one less day of rehearsal by a younger orchestra. That’s something we can all take pride in.

3- Ensemble Epomeo- Newburyport Festival Concert at Newburyport Maritime Museum.

What a sense of occasion- every single ticket sold, standing room only, in a room of $6000 dresses and $4000 handbags. What’s amazing, and encouraging, is that all the great and good of Newburyport would turn out in style for an evening not of fluff, but of Schnittke, Gal and Krasa. It was intense, it was rewarding, it was pretty darn electric.

2- Schumann- Symphony no. 2, Orchestra of the Swan

After two exhausting days of recording for our new Bobby and Hans CD, I was a little concerned that the orchestra and I might well conk out before the end of this most demanding of symphonies. Not so- rosin was flying, feet were stomping, sweat was dripping. When one organist/fuddy-duddy in the audience wrote it all off as “too exciting” I took it as a massive compliment. Or, as one of the principals said “it’s such an exciting symphony it leaves you saying “Ludwig van who?”  Rehearsing Schumann is always interesting- I always feel like players are looking skeptically at me as if to say “you want it how fast/slow/loud/soft/intense/dramatic?!?!?”  Not so with Orchestra of the Swan, but even with this most willing and virtuosic of bands, it’s amazing how much rhythmic energy and passion this music needs and can take. Too many orchestral musicians have been indoctrinated in the “overcooked veg” school of Schumann performance- they somehow think it should all be a little mushy, easy to chew and lacking freshness. In this case, the orchestra not only got it- they found something more. An extra gear.

1- Schubert- Cello Quintet with Ensemble Epomeo, Suzanne Casey (violin) and Alice Neary (cello) at Two Rivers Festival

This was my second visit to the Two Rivers festival with Ensemble Epomeo. On this occasion, we were joined by two wonderful colleagues for a performance of what might be the greatest piece of music ever written. TRF is purposefully tucked-away and low-key, but the audience was jam-packed with composers and fellow musicians (you could feel the intensity of the listening that was going on), and the atmosphere in the Bushell Hall is always inspiring. The high, high ceiling makes you feel like the sound is joined with the infinite. It was not one of those performances where everyone spends the night smiling and enjoying themselves- not everyone on stage was even sure it had gone well, so intent were we on the task at hand. Instead, our attitude was one of complete, total focus on doing justice to this most special of masterpieces. Fortunately, when I ran into friend after friend who looked like they’d been crying for the better part of an hour, I figured we must have done something right, and I felt strangely haunted by the piece for weeks afterwards. I kept remembering my last page turn- it’s a worryingly fast one. One can easily throw the part on the floor, not get the page over, or not get your hands back on the instrument in time for the next entrance. As it happens, the next entrance is the last of the many haunting duets for the two cellos. It’s music of such supreme, unearthly beauty that I can never really believe the sound I’m hearing is coming partially from me. The strange juxtaposition of something as mundane and banal as a dodgy page turn with music of spine-chilling spirituality  seems to sum up the perpetual contradictions  of the musician’s life. Get that page turned, get the first finger down and the bow on the string, and suddenly, you’re in resonance with eternity.

This year’s Bychkov Report is remarkably consistent with past years- as always, he conducts quite a small number of works over the course of year: 41 this year, 30 in 2008, 50 in 2010. But what a schedule, and what works.

Frankly, when you look at the listing of programs on his website in detail, you can see what an extraordinarily intense year Maestro Bychkov has had.  One might very well question how any man who conducts Mahler 6  18 times in a year can maintain his physical health and emotional well-being. Perhaps, you might think, he balances the apocalyptic intensity of the Mahler with lighter, less draining repertoire?

Less draining repertoire like the 10 performances of Strauss’s insanely intense psychodrama, Elektra?

Or the five performances of Britten’s War Requiem?

Six performances of Shostakovich’s titanic 11^th Symphony?

Eight performances of Schumann 2, Bobby’s most intense work?

And one-off’s like the Verdi Requiem.

I really envy Maestro Bychkov’s opportunities to live with and repeat great works with great orchestras- he does so much touring (this year with La Scala, Vienna Philharmonic and the Concertgebouw), which is where the greatest music-making often happens. In difficult economic times, it’s important to remind patrons and funding bodies that touring is not just an essential part of cultural exchange, but an essential tool in raising orchestral playing and interpretation to the hightest possible level.

In the course of 2011, I had three friends in various orchestras (NYO and BBC SO) refer to Bychkov as the “greatest living conductor.” The only other conductors I heard described that way all year by anyone who knows anything about anything were Haitink and Weller. I’m not sure it’s possible to say who is the greatest living conductor, but I think this repertoire list and the way in which he schedules repertoire through the year offer some instructive clues as to why great orchestral musicians might conclude Bychkov is working at the highest possible level. Younger conductors can learn a lot from how he manages his study time and his performance schedule.

Carlos Kleiber is often referred to as something like “the greatest conductor of all time, in spite of his limited repertoire.” I’m surprised how few people make the right connection between the size of his repertoire and the quality of his work. Perhaps Kleiber’s work is so electric and essential and profound because he lived with a select number great works throughout his career, and focused on developing his ability to bring those few works to life as vibrantly as possible.

By comparison to Kleiber, Bychkov’s repertoire is positively vast, but you can bet that when a maestro is only dong 41 pieces in a year, most of them ones he will have done many times before, he’ll have plenty of time to prepare each work, whether for a single performance like the Verdi or the 18 performances of the Mahler. It’s a great demonstration of the value of quality over quantity.

2011 REPERTOIRE REPORT- SEMYON BYCHKOV

1. BARTOK: The Miraculous Mandarin Suite, Op 19
2. BEETHOVEN: Violin Concerto
3. BEETHOVEN: Symphony No 7
4. BERIO: Rendering (after Schubert’s fragment D936A)
5. BERIO: Sequenza No. 7 (Albrecht Mayer, oboe)
6. BRAHMS/GLANERT: Vier Ernste Gesange
7. BRAHMS: Variations on a Theme of Haydn, op.56a
8. BRAHMS: Concerto in A minor for violin, cello and orchestra, op.102
9. BRAHMS: Symphony No 1, Op 68, C minor

10. BRAHMS: Symphony No. 2 in D major, op.73

11. BRAHMS: Symphony No. 3 in F major, op.90

12. BRITTEN: War Requiem

13. BRUCH: Violin Concerto No 1

14. CHOPIN: Piano Concerto No 1 Op 11 in E minor

15. CHOPIN: Piano Concerto No 2 in F minor

16. DUBUGNON: Concerto for Two Pianos and Double Orchestra (world premiere)

17. MAHLER: Symphony No. 3

18. MAHLER: Symphony No. 6 in A minor

19. MENDELSSOHN: Violin Concerto No 2 in E minor Op 64

20. POULENC: Concerto for Two Pianos

21. RACHMANINOV: The Bells Op 35

22. RACHMANINOV: Symphonic Dances

23. RAVEL: Rhapsodie Espagnole (for two solo pianos)

24. SCHUBERT: Symphony No 2

25. SCHUBERT: Symphony No 9 in C ‘Great’

26. SCHUMANN: Ouverture, Scherzo and Finale Op 52

27. SCHUMANN: Cello Concerto in A Minor, Op 129

28. SCHUMANN: Piano Concerto in A minor, op54

29. SCHUMANN: Symphony No. 2

30. SHOSTAKOVICH: Piano Concerto No 2

31. SHOSTAKOVICH: Symphony No 11, Op 103, G minor (The Year 1905)

32. STRAUSS: Don Juan

33. STRAUSS: Burleske for piano and orchestra

34. STRAUSS: Ein Heldenleben

35. STRAUSS: Elektra

36. TCHAIKOVSKY: Symphony No 4

37. VERDI: Requiem

38. WAGNER: Prelude, Lohengrin Act 1

39. WAGNER: Prelude & Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde

40. WAGNER: Tannhäuser

41. WALTON: Symphony No. 1

You can see Paavo’s Reports from past years here (2010, 2009, and 2008) and comparisons and analyses with other conductors here (2010 and 2008). He’s a busy guy, but remarkably consistent in his workload, sticking pretty consistently to just over 100 works per year.

I’ve followed Paavo’s career with interest ever since I covered his first concert with the Cincinnati Symphony. My boss, the designated cover for that concert, bowed out and left for the week after watching the first 10 minutes of PJ’s first rehearsal and declaring he was “not music director material.” Live and learn- Paavo has had a tremendous 10 year run at the CSO since then, and now moves on to a new chapter of his career with three of the best orchestras around- the Orchestre de Paris, Frankfurt Radio Symphony and Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen.

It’s a vintage Paavo list- a huge swath of the most interesting corners of the standard repertoire, some Scandanavian and  Baltic composers old and new and a range of “projects.” I’ll be first to give him a huge pat on the back for doing a good chunk of Faure, a composer we don’t hear enough of. On the other hand, I was a little disappointed to see him doing Dvorak’s Carnival Overture on its own- the piece should really only be played as part of the Triptych- Nature, Life and Love alongside Nature’s Realm and Othello.  No opera or ballet for Paavo this year, which is typical for him.  Aside from our different tastes in the music of our time, as always, Paavo’s is probably the list I would be most happy and comfortable to step in to without notice- lots of repertoire I love and do often.

1. Bach: Piano Conc. in D minor  (Stewart Goodyear)
2. Bartók: Viola Concerto (Gábor Máté Szűcs)
3. Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra
4. Beethoven: The Consecration of the House, Overture
5. Beethoven: Piano Conc. No.1 (Till Fellner)
6. Beethoven: Piano Conc. No.4 (Andre Watts)
7. Beethoven: Violin Conc. — Piano Version (Olli Mustonen)
8. Beethoven: Symphony No.4
9. Beethoven: Symphony No.5

10. Beethoven: Symphony No.7

11. Berg: Sieben frühe Lieder with Elīna Garanča

12. Berg: Violin Concerto (Gidon Kremer)

13. Berlioz: Harold en Italie

14. Berlioz: Le corsaire, Overture

15. Berlioz: Symphonie Fantastique

16. George Benjamin: A Mind of Winter

17. Bernstein: On the Town

18. Bizet: Symphony in C major

19. Brahms: Piano Concerto No.1 in D minor

20. Brahms: Piano Concerto No.2 (Leif Ove Andsnes)

21. Brahms: Serenade Nr.1

22. Brahms: Serenade No. 2 in A major, Op.16

23. Brahms: Violin Concerto (Sayaka Shoji)

24. Britten: Violin Conc. (Janine Jansen)

25. Bruckner: Symphony No.2

26. Bruckner: Symphony No.8

27. Chopin: Piano Concerto No.2 (Khatia Buniatishvili)

28. Chopin: Piano Concerto No.1(Jan Lisiecki)

29. Charles Coleman: Fanfare/Greeting

30. Copland: Clarinet Concerto (Martin Fröst)

31. Debussy: Printemps

32. Debussy: Rhapsody for Clarinet and Orchestra

33. Duruflé: Trois danses

34. Dvořák: Carnival, Overture

35. Dvořák: Cello Concerto (Yo-Yo Ma)

36. Dvořák: Symphony No.7

37. Dvořák: Symphony No.9 ‘From the New World’

38. Elgar: Cello Concerto (Truls Mørk)

39. Thorsten Encke: Nyx

40. Thierry Escaich: La barque solaire, pour orgue et orchestre

41. Fauré: Requiem

42. Fauré: Pavane pour chœur et orchestra

43. Fauré: Élégie pour violoncello et orchestre (Eric Picard)

44. Fauré: CXXXVI Super flumina babylonis, pour chœur et orchestra

45. Fauré: Requiem (Chen Reiss, Matthias Goerne)

46. Franck: Symphony in D minor

47. Glinka: Valse-Fantaisie

48. Stewart Goodyear: Anniversary Fanfare

49. Grieg: Piano Conc. (Elisabeth Leonskaja)

50. Haydn: Cello Concerto in C (Alisa Weilerstein)

51. Haydn: Symphony No.88

52. Haydn: Symphony No.102 in B flat

53. John Holland: Anniversary Fanfare

54. Ives: Symphony No.4: Fugue “From Greenland’s Icy Mountain”

55. Liszt: Mephisto Waltz No.1

56. Liszt: Piano Concerto No.2 (Denis Matsuev)Mahler: Symphony No.5

57. Mahler: Symphony No.7

58. Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto (Akiko Suwanai) (Hilary Hahn)

59. Messiaen: Les offrandes oubliées

60. Messiaen: Turangalîla-symphonie

61. Mozart: Piano Concerto No.23 (Khatia Buniatishvili)

62. Mozart: Violin Conc. No.4 (Alina Ibragimova)

63. Mozart: Violin Concerto No.5 (Vilde Frang)

64. Carl Nielsen: Symphony No.5

65. Nielsen: Symphony No.6 (Sinfonia Semplice)

66. Pärt: Silhouette, Hommage à Gustave Eiffel

67. Prokofeiv: Symphony No.6

68. Rachmaninov: The Rock

69. Rachmaninov: Piano Concerto No. 2 (Jorge Luis Prats)

70. Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances

71. Ravel: Piano Concerto in G major (David Fray)

72. Ravel: Daphnis et Chloé, Suites

73. Hans Rott: Symphony in E major

74. Saint-Saëns: Symphony No.3 ‘Organ’ (Thierry Escaiach)

75. Schubert: Symphony No.9

76. Schumann: Scenes from Goethe’s Faust

77. Schumann: Hermann et Dorothée, Overture

78. Schumann: Ouverture, Scherzo und Finale

79. Schumann: Piano Concerto (Dang Thai Son)

80. Schumann: Konzertstück (for four horns and orchestra)

81. Schumann: Symphony No.1 ‘Spring’

82. Schumann: Symphony No.2

83. Schumann: Symphony No.3 ‘Rhenish’

84. Schumann: Symphony No.4

85. Shostakovich: Violin Concerto No.2 (Janine Jansen)

86. Sibelius: Finlandia

87. Sibelius: Violin Concerto

88. Sibelius: Symphony No.2

89. Sibelius: Symphony No.5

90. Strauss: Till Eulenspiegel

91. Stravinsky: Petrushka (1911)

92. Stravinsky: Petrushka (1947)

93. Strauss: Don Quixote (Laszlo Fenyo, Mate Szucs)

94. Tchaikovsky: Piano Conc. No.2 (Denis Matsuev)

95. Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto (Leonidas Kavakos)

96. Tchaikovsky: Symphony No.5

97. Eduard Tubin: Symphony No.11

98. Tüür: Aditus

99. Tüür: Fanfare/Greeting

100. Tüür: Piano Concerto (Awadagin Pratt)

101. Varèse: Amériques

102. Weber: Overture to Der Freischütz

103.Weber: Overture to Oberon

104. Jörg Widman: Anniversary Fanfare

In 2010, he was named the new Associate Conductor of the Southern Illinois Symphony Orchestra at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, Illinois.  A scholar in Russian music performance practice, his ballet debut of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker in December set a new record for attendance (a completely sold out performance in Shryock Auditorium).  This year, he followed with SISO premiere performances of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 6, Berlioz’ Symphonie Fantastique, and celebrated Gustav Mahler’s double centenary years with a performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 4.

2011 Repertoire Report for Michael Böhnert-Wheatley

1. Bach- Brandenburg Concerto No. 1
2. Berlioz- Symphonie Fantastique
3. Carmack- Ysnaby Valour (World Premiere)
4. Debussy- Prélude à l’après-midi d’un Faune
5. Feldman- Three Clarinets, Cello, and Piano (1971)
6. Fuhr- American Pictures  (World Premiere)
7. Hindemith- Symphonic Metamorphosis on theme of C. M von Weber
8. Hummel- Introduction, Theme, and Variations, Op. 102 for Oboe and Orchestra
9. Mahler- Adagietto from Symphony No. 5
10. Mahler- Symphony No. 4
11. Mozart- Clarinet Concerto
12. Mozart- Overture to Don Giovanni
13. Mussorgsky- Pictures at an Exhibition
14. Prokofiev- Piano Concerto No. 3
15. Prokofiev- Violin Concerto No. 1
16. Raff- Sinfonietta
17. Rachmaninoff- Piano Concerto No. 3
18. Saint-Saens- Cello Concerto No. 1
19. Shostakovich- Symphony No. 6
20. Sibelius- Karelia Overture
21. Sibelius- Symphony No. 2
22. Sibelius- Violin Concerto in d
23. Strauss- Duet Concertino for Bassoon, Clarinet, and Orchestra
24. Tchaikovsky- Violin Concerto in D
25. Villa-Lobos- Bachianas Brasileiras, No. 5