March 19, 2023 – Rachel Naomi Kudo, piano JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH (1685-1750) Toccata in D, BMV 912 March 19, 2023 – Rachel Naomi Kudo, piano Bach composed seven manualiter toccatas, BWV 910–916, whose designation toccata refers to pieces that display a keyboardist’s dexterity and manualiter means “hands only” as opposed to those requiring pedals. Therefore these pieces were to be played on a keyboard instrument other than organ—such as the harpsichord in the eighteenth century. Bach never collected these toccatas under a single title, but they represent the culmination of the genre, begun in the sixteenth century and in Bach’s case likely influenced by early Baroque German models comprised of several distinct contrasting sections. Precise dating has proved impossible, but scholars typically designate a range of “?before 1708” to “before 1714,” which places them before or during his tenure at the court of Weimar. The date often given for the D major Toccata, BWV 912, is “before 1710,” with an early version possibly dating from c. 1707. That could have been during Bach’s year in Mühlhausen, June 1707–June 1708, or in Arnstadt where he was organist from 1703 to 1707. In June 1708 Bach took up the post of court organist at Weimar, where Duke Wilhelm Ernst is said to have greatly enjoyed Bach’s playing, so it is likely that Bach himself performed his toccatas for his employer. It is equally possible that they could have been played by one or more of his talented students, but there is no specific evidence that he intended them for teaching, as he did with other works (mentioned above in connection with the French Suites). The D major Toccata, like the other six, closes with a fugue and like all but one (G major, BWV 916) opens with an improvisatory prelude. This brief lively opening is striking for its similarity to the D major organ Prelude and Fugue, BWV 532, which may date from around the same time, especially as to its to ascending scales, which Bach extends locally and employs in dramatic descents in the extended Adagio transition to the first fugue. Prior to that, however, the prelude brings on a captivating Allegro that unfolds with rondo-like recurring passages. Modulatory excursions into the minor mode and similar journeys in the ensuing recitative-like Adagio prepare for the first fugue in F-sharp minor. This fugue offers a somewhat introspective exploration of that key with three expositions of the simultaneous subject/countersubject pair, seamlessly connected by two brief episodes. Following another dramatic declamatory transition, the final fugue gallops along in 6/16 meter much like a perpetual-motion gigue until its final arresting bars. For the C minor Toccata, BWV 911, scholars suggest a date of “before 1714,” which was the year Bach added the title and rank of Konzertmeister to the post of court organist that he had begun at Weimar in 1708. Thus its earliest performers were likely the same as for the D major Toccata above and the other manualiter toccatas, that is, Bach himself or possibly his sons or students. The C minor Toccata begins with an improvisatory, ornate-style introduction, followed by a relatively short Adagio, maintaining a lamenting mood. The main portion of the piece consists of a massive fugue, interrupted by a recitative-like passage, after which Bach introduces a second subject and launches into a double fugue (treatment of his two subjects in contrapuntal combination). A majestic adagio passage brings Bach’s mighty work to a close. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

October 17, 2021: Roman Rabinovich, piano JOSEPH HAYDN (1732-1809) Piano Sonata No. 50 in C Hob. XVI: 50 October 17, 2021: Roman Rabinovich, piano While he was in London in 1794 Haydn composed his last three piano sonatas—in C major, D major, and E-flat major—for professional pianist and teacher Therese Jansen; his final works for piano trio were also written for her. The firm friendship he formed with both Therese and her fiancé Gaetano Bartolozzi is affirmed by his standing as a witness to their marriage in 1795. Her pianistic abilities are reflected in all the works he wrote for her; this C major Sonata in particular required the manual dexterity for combinations of parallel thirds and broken octaves as well as a wide range of color and nuance. Laid out on a grand scale, the first movement of the late C major Sonata nevertheless begins in single triadic notes that then open out into two voices, then three, and culminate in full rolled chords. The second theme, as so often with Haydn, is closely related to the first. But perhaps the most striking features of the movement are Haydn’s performance directions. The most notable of these is the marking (possibly not in his hand) for “open pedal” in the development section, where he modulates to A-flat major, and again in the recapitulation. This direction has been variously interpreted to mean: 1) raise the dampers, which creates a blurring effect, 2) employ the una corda pedal, which softens the tone, or 3) use the two pedals jointly! Other notable directions occur with the aforementioned interplay of thirds and octaves, which require very detailed crescendos and diminuendos. The Adagio sounds improvisatory but actually unfolds in sonata form. Typical of this type of slow movement, the development section is short, consisting only of ten measures. The recapitulation is nicely elaborated, perhaps in admiration of the slow movement of Mozart’s B-flat major Sonata, K. 315c (K. 333) composed ten years earlier. Haydn’s finale suggests a scherzo with its triple meter and joking manner. Outrageously short in proportion to the first movement, the movement stresses the deliberately grotesque cadence in the tenth bar, fashioned out of the motive that first appeared in the third bar. The “contrasting” section that alternates two times with the main theme is so closely related to it that Haydn’s monothematic tendencies are again recalled. After each “contrasting” section the opening material returns in a varied version that contains the added curiosity of the note A in the register three octaves above middle C. This note was available on certain English pianos but not those on the Continent. The movement closes before Haydn’s witticisms can wear out their welcome. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2022 AT 4 PM SITKOVETSKY PIANO TRIO BUY TICKETS SITKOVETSKY TRIO Winners of BBC Music Magazine’s 2022 Chamber Music Award “Like three good friends enjoying a glass of wine and intimate conversation, the Sitkovetsky Trio sparkle with conviviality.” — BBC Music Magazine FEATURING ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS One of today’s premier chamber ensembles, the Sitkovetsky Trio consists of Russian violinist Alexander Sitkovetsky, German-Korean cellist Isang Enders, and Chinese pianist Wu Qian. Their international fusion of musical passion, personal rapport, and ensemble sophistication has brought them worldwide acclaim and yearly invitations to appear at such renowned venues as Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw, London’s Wigmore Hall, New York City’s Alice Tully Hall, and Paris’s Palais des Beaux Arts. For their Parlance debut, they will perform piano trios by Beethoven, Mendelssohn, and the engaging young Irish composer Sam Perkin. PROGRAM Ludwig van Beethoven Piano Trio in G, Op. 1, No. 2 Program Notes Sam Perkin Freakshow Program Notes Ludwig van Beethoven Allegretto WoO 39 Program Notes Felix Mendelssohn Piano Trio No. 2 in C minor, Op. 66 Program Notes Watch the Sitkovetsky Trio play the Finale of Ravel’s Piano Trio:

December 16, 2018: Emerson Quartet DMITRI SHOSTAKOVICH (1906–1975) String Quartet No. 8 in C minor, op. 110 December 16, 2018: Emerson Quartet The Eighth is probably the best known of Shostakovich’s string quartets because of its compact drama, its quotations from his own earlier works, and its pervasive use of the motto D.SCH, drawn from the initials of his first and last names. (He used Dimitri Schostakowitsch, the German transliteration, which in German musical notation equates to D, E-flat, C, and B-natural.) This “autobiographical” Quartet was composed in only three days, July 12–14, 1960, while the composer was in Dresden supposedly working on the score for a World War II film entitled Five Days, Five Nights. The Quartet that occupied him instead was officially dedicated “to the memory of the victims of fascism and war,” but it masked an inner dedication—to the composer himself. Shostakovich had just been coerced to join the Communist Party and he viewed his submission with self-loathing. His deep depression prompted the contemplation of his own mortality; one scholar and friend of Shostakovich suggested that the composer thought of the Eighth Quartet not only as autobiographical but at the time as his final work. He had in essence written his own Requiem. On July 19, 1960, Shostakovich wrote to his friend Isaak Glikman: “I have been considering that when I die, scarcely anyone will write a work in my memory. Therefore I have decided to write one myself. Then on the cover they can print: ‘Dedicated to the author of this Quartet.’ The main theme of the Quartet is the notes D-S-C-H, my initials. The Quartet contains themes from my works and the revolutionary song ‘Zamuchon tyazholoy nevoley’ [Tormented by Heavy Captivity]. My themes are the following: from the First Symphony, the Eighth Symphony, the [Second Piano] Trio, the [First] Cello Concerto and from Lady Macbeth. I have made allusions to Wagner (Funeral March from Götterdämmerung) and Tchaikovsky (second theme from the first movement of the Sixth Symphony). Oh yes, I forgot my Tenth Symphony. A nice mish-mash.” His continuation described how much he had wept during and after the Quartet’s completion, but in terms of a pseudo-tragedy. Shostakovich was already able to distance himself enough from the emotional content to admire the form of the work as a whole. The Quartet consists of five movements played without pause, unified by the D-S-C-H motto. The motto also announces the various quotations throughout the work—first played by the cello then imitated by the other instruments, it introduces his first self-quotation, from the First Symphony. The second movement provides contrast by means of speed, texture, and constant loud dynamics. After the prominent intoning of the motto by viola and cello, Shostakovich quotes what he calls “the Jewish theme” from his Second Piano Trio. The main theme of the third movement transforms the motto into a kind of grotesque waltz. Shostakovich quotes from his First Cello Concerto in one of the episodes, and the extension of this quotation becomes the first theme of the fourth movement. Music from his opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk is quoted both in this and the fifth movement, but the most poignant quotation, again introduced by the motto, is the revolutionary funeral march for prisoners “Tormented by Heavy Captivity.” The fifth movement, a recapitulation-reminiscence of the first movement, closes the work in the tragic mood that pervades the entire Quartet. Even without knowing the sources of the quotations or that Shostakovich was recalling works of special significance in his life, the listener is struck by the dark seriousness of the work and the soul-searching quality it conveys—a characteristic often associated with the late Beethoven quartets. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

September 29, 2024: Edward Arron, cello; Jeewon Park, piano. This piece was also performed on January 18, 2026 by cellist Jonathan Swenson and pianist Orion Weiss. Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827) Seven Variations on Bei Männern from Mozart's Magic Flute for cello and piano September 29, 2024: Edward Arron, cello; Jeewon Park, piano. This piece was also performed on January 18, 2026 by cellist Jonathan Swenson and pianist Orion Weiss. Beethoven composed works in the popular vein just as industriously as he created his most soul-searching and original masterpieces of “art” music. Every famous and not-so-famous composer of his day, as in preceding generations, considered improvising or writing sets of variations practical tools of the composer’s art. Beethoven’s skill at improvising on a theme given to him on the spot was legendary, but he was also enough of a businessman to know that writing down and publishing variation sets was a lucrative business, especially if the varied theme were a popular tune from an opera that was making the rounds. Beethoven especially admired Mozart’s operas, though he was equally adept at varying less elegant themes, thereby rescuing them from ultimate obscurity. In the 1790s Beethoven had composed variations on tunes from three great Mozart operas: “La ci darem” from Don Giovanni for two oboes and English horn, “Se vuol ballare” from Le nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) for violin and piano, and “Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen” from Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) for cello and piano. In 1801 he was again drawn to The Magic Flute—and the same cello-piano combination—this time for a set of variations on “Bei Männern, welche Liebe fühlen” (A man who feels love), originally an exquisite duet between the comic birdcatcher Papageno and Princess Pamina. Beethoven’s immediate stimulus was probably a revival produced around that time by Emanuel Schikaneder, the opera’s librettist and original portrayer of Papageno. Beethoven’s manuscript for the “Bei Männern” Variations shows a crossed-out dedication, probably to Countess von Fries, whose husband had just received the dedication of the Violin Sonatas, opp. 23 and 24. Evidently changing his mind, the composer inscribed the work instead to Count Johann Georg von Browne-Camus, whom Beethoven had described as “the Maecenas of my Muse” in the dedication of his String Trios, op. 9. Beethoven dedicated a number of works to the count, whose generosity extended even to presenting him with a horse for dedicating to his wife the Variations on a Russian Dance from Wranitzky’s “Das Waldmädchen.” As in many of his variation sets, Beethoven follows tradition by including variations of contrasting tempos and characters, a minor-key variation, and an elaborate and extended final variation. He preserves Mozart’s tender quality in the presentation of the theme—even suggesting the two singing roles by switching the melody between the piano right hand and the cello. He does, however, leave the stamp of his personality by making some subtle, fascinating changes in Mozart’s rhythm and articulation. The quiet but sprightly first variation breaks the mood and immediately shows that piano and cello are to be equal partners as they begin in counterpoint. The virtuosity for both is stepped up in the next variation, whereas the third calls for sweetness and grace. Variation 4, the minor-mode variation, presents a haunting kind of melancholy, featuring the cello in its lower range. The capricious fifth variation provides a foil both to this and to the Adagio variation that follows. Here the tenderness returns with an added layer of poignance and elegant figuration. The extended final variation offers a procession of characters from dancelike to stormy, and injects a last moment of reflection just before the energetic concluding chords. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

ANDREW TYSON, PIANO Hailed by BBC Radio 3 as “a real poet of the piano,” American pianist Andrew Tyson is emerging as a distinctive and important new musical voice. In summer 2015, he was awarded First Prize at the Géza Anda Competition in Zürich, as well as the Mozart and Audience Prizes. These victories have resulted in numerous performances throughout Europe under the auspices of the Géza Anda Foundation. Tyson is also a laureate of the Leeds International Piano Competition where he won the new Terence Judd-Hallé Orchestra Prize, awarded by the orchestra and conductor Sir Mark Elder with whom he enjoys an ongoing relationship. With concerto performances taking him across North America, Europe and further afield, Tyson has performed with orchestras from North Carolina Symphony, Colorado Symphony, Kansas City Symphony and Orchestra of St. Luke’s at Alice Tully Hall, to Osaka Symphony, SWR Symphony Orchestra Stuttgart, Musikkollegium Winterthur and National Orchestra of Belgium. Highlights this season include a return to the Hallé and Bournemouth Symphony Orchestras as well as his debut with Flanders Symphony Orchestra. Recital appearances include major cities across the U.S. and Europe at venues such as Brussels’ Palais des Beaux-Arts, New York’s Carnegie Hall and the Zürich Tonhalle. Following last season’s recitals in Shanghai, Vancouver, St. Petersburg, Tokyo and a return to London’s Wigmore Hall, this season sees Tyson giving recitals in Taiwan for the first time as well as a tour in Switzerland. No stranger to the festival scene, Tyson’s previous performances include Caramoor Center for Music and the Arts, Lincoln Center’s Mostly Mozart Festival, Lucerne Piano Festival, Pacific Music Festival in Japan and the Musica Viva festival in Sydney for a mixture of solo and chamber performances. An active chamber musician, Tyson regularly appears in recital with violinist Benjamin Beilman; this season they join up again for performances in the U.S. Tyson’s three recital discs apppear on the Alpha Classics label. His debut disc comprises the complete Chopin Preludes while his second album released in March 2017 features works by Scriabin and Ravel. His latest disc, Landscapes, released in September 2019, features works by Mompou, Albéniz, Scarlatti and Schubert and is described by Tyson as a program which “synthesizes my love of Spanish music, my love of nature and my fascination with the coloristic aspects of piano playing.” The album title takes its name from Federico Mompou’s Paisajes, which are “landscapes of the mind as much as intimate, yet vivid depictions of Spain.” As winner of the Young Concert Artists International auditions in 2011, Tyson was awarded YCA’s Paul A. Fish Memorial Prize and the John Browning Memorial Prize. An Avery Fisher Career Grant soon followed. After early studies with Thomas Otten he attended The Curtis Institute of Music where he worked with Claude Frank. Tyson later studied with Robert McDonald earning his Master’s degree and Artist Diploma at The Juilliard School, winning the Gina Bachauer Piano Competition and receiving the Arthur Rubinstein Prize in Piano.

October 5, 2014 – Osmo Vänska, clarinet; Erin Keefe, violin; Gilles Vonsattel, piano BÉLA BARTÓK (1881–1945) Contrasts, BB 116 October 5, 2014 – Osmo Vänska, clarinet; Erin Keefe, violin; Gilles Vonsattel, piano If the celebrated “king of swing” clarinetist Benny Goodman had not commissioned a work from Bartók, the composer probably would never have written a chamber work that included a wind instrument—this was the sole instance. In 1938 Bartók’s old friend, violinist Joseph Szigeti, wrote to him on behalf of Goodman to commission a chamber work the two could play together. The clarinetist made some very specific requests: he wanted a short work—six to seven minutes so it could fit on two sides of a 78 rpm recording—that should contain two movements, one in each of the Hungarian styles lassú (slow) and friss (fast) that Bartók had made so popular in his Rhapsodies. The composer, however, couldn’t help but respond as he had to previous commission requirements: he wrote what he wanted! Bartók did begin along the specified parameters, completing two movements—now the outer two—probably in August 1938, though they were considerably longer than expected. Goodman, Szigeti, and pianist Endre Petri performed these Two Dances, as they were called, at Carnegie Hall on January 9, 1939. The opening Verbunkos (Recruiting dance) movement possessed a livelier character than that of a lassú introduction, so already in September 1938 Bartók composed a slow movement to separate his two dances, though he waited until December to inform Goodman. The premiere of this complete version, finally named Contrasts, occurred in April 1940 when Bartók came to New York and played the piano part in a now-famous Columbia recording with Goodman and Szigeti. The same trio played the work live in Boston on February 4, 1941, and after Goodman’s three-year period of exclusive performance rights expired, chamber groups everywhere took up the colorful piece. As a proper recruiting dance should, the opening movement struts and postures, and includes the typical kind of melodic ornamentation that reflects Bartók’s familiarity with the national style. Both violin and clarinet are given ample opportunities to show off. After the initial march idea, the composer introduces a memorable theme that is ripe with characteristic Hungarian short-long rhythms. Just before the end Bartók provides a clarinet cadenza that displays the instrument’s range both in pitch and dynamics. The slow movement, Pihenő (Relaxation), projects a more serious quality, incorporating sounds that biographer Halsey Stevens suggests were inspired by Bartók’s study of Indonesian gamelan music. A brilliant shimmering passage introduces trills, pizzicato, and murmuring motives associated with what Bartók called “night music,” first introduced in his Out of Doors for piano in 1926. For the only time in any of his works, Bartók employed scordatura (unusual tuning of a string instrument) here in his whirlwind finale. Sebes (Fast dance) begins with the violin taking up a fiddle tuned with the bottom string raised and the top string lowered by a half step. As a result his opening chords sound like the beginning of a danse macabre—similar to Saint-Saëns’s famous example, which also uses scordatura. Bartók also has the clarinetist trade an A clarinet for one in B-flat in the movement’s outer sections, which changes the color slightly, but also reflects the curious tonality of the work—one of its contrasts?—ending in a different key than it began. Bartók interrupts the movement’s frantic perpetual motion for a slower middle section that features a plaintive melody and eerie washes of sound. Here the piano creeps in contrary motion against the slithering of the violin and clarinet, all in a complex meter of 13/8. The composer employs myriad effects from glissandos and “honking” grace notes to a cadenza of violin pyrotechnics to make this one of chamber music’s most riveting finales. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

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October 27, 2019: Quartetto di Cremona GIUSEPPE VERDI (1813–1901) String Quartet in E minor October 27, 2019: Quartetto di Cremona Verdi suddenly found himself with time on his hands in a hotel room in Naples in the spring of 1873. Teresa Stolz, his leading soprano, had fallen ill just after Don Carlos had opened and just as concurrent rehearsals were to begin for Aida. Since she was to sing in both, things ground to a halt and Aida’s premiere was postponed several weeks. Did Verdi relax? Did he work on another operatic project? No—to everyone’s great surprise, he wrote his only piece of solely instrumental music, his String Quartet in E minor. What possessed him to write a string quartet, that most hallowed of media, late in life and without prior experience? We can only assume he was confident he had the skill and wanted to prove it, and because the chance might never come again. On April 1, just after Aida opened, he invited seven or eight guests to the Hotel delle Croce, where he had set up music stands and four chairs. Soon four musicians from the theater orchestra—identified only as the Pinto brothers, violins, Salvadore, viola, and Giaritiello, cello—entered and played the Quartet for the surprised but delighted guests. They were so pleased that they demanded an encore, which Verdi granted, though he himself was unsure whether he liked the Quartet. “I don’t know whether the Quartet is beautiful or ugly,” wrote Verdi to Count Arrivabene several weeks later, “but I do know it’s a Quartet!” For a time Verdi refused to publish the Quartet or to allow other performances, though he did schedule another himself, this time for an invited audience of 100 guests at the Hôtel de Bade when he was in Paris in 1876 for a production of Aida. The Quartet was again received with great enthusiasm, which finally led Verdi to consent to its publication. He must have begun to think fondly of it, for he later indicated he would be willing to conduct a full string orchestra performance of the Quartet in London. Though many commentators have weighed in on whether it has the “proper” sort of working out expected from the Germanic tradition, or whether any operatic “weaknesses” have crept in, the fact remains that it contains wonderful melodic ideas, skillful and idiomatic writing for the strings, and—something Verdi enthusiasts delight in—an occasional hint of one or another of his operas. Verdi had studied the Classic quartets of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven with his composition teacher Vincenzo Lavigna, and it is said that he kept scores of them on a shelf above his bed. Verdi’s Quartet does not sound Classical, nor German, but it does maintain a light enough texture and enough elements of Classical form to sound retrospective. The sonata-form first movement centers around a melancholic wisp of an idea that begins in the low register of the second violin, then begins again, and is finally expanded. The process is repeated again an octave higher with the first violin. Several commentators have found hints of Aida in this theme, which then generates a great deal of activity. The second theme brings a contemplative though brief contrast in smooth four-part writing. Verdi condenses the form so that the first theme is still being developed until the recapitulation begins with the second theme. The second movement contrasts graceful, lilting outer sections with a sweet theme in longer note values and another restless, agitated section. The chromatic inflections of the outer theme give it a more Romantic than Classic flavor. Its return at the midpoint of the movement, between the two episodes, hints at rondo form, though this appearance occurs in a very remote key. The extroverted third movement, which begins at a lightning quick pace, imparts an impish off-kilter effect with its many irregular phrase lengths. The trio section has the cello “sing” an expressive melody to light pizzicato accompaniment—a section that would sound right at home in one of Verdi’s operas. His return to the opening follows traditional scherzo-trio-scherzo form. Verdi shows off all his contrapuntal prowess in the fugal finale. This is a gossamer fugue, however, not majestic nor weighty, prompting Julian Budden’s characterization as “a light-hearted Grosse Fuge,” referring to Beethoven’s monumental quartet movement. The composer himself labels it “Scherzo Fuga,” employing the term scherzo in its original meaning of a merry jest, rather than as a designation for a movement like his third, in triple meter and ternary-form. Several commentators have heard in this finale a premonition of the conclusion of Falstaff, the great comic opera of Verdi’s last years. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

March 24, 2019: Kristin Lee, violin JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH (1685-1750) Prelude from Violin Partita in E, BWV 1006 March 24, 2019: Kristin Lee, violin We find precedents for Bach’s Sonatas and Partitas for unaccompanied violin in works by Johann Jacob Walther, Heinrich Biber, and Johann Paul Westhoff, but Bach’s contributions totally eclipsed these and remain unsurpassed to this day in invention and magnificence. Trained as a violinist in his youth by his father, Bach knew the capabilities of the instrument and expanded greatly upon them. The autograph manuscript, dated 1720, presents three sonatas in alternation with three partitas. The sonatas represent the serious Italian sonata da chiesa (church sonata) form with four movements in a slow, fast, slow, fast pattern; the partitas resemble the sonata da camera (chamber sonata), a series of dance movements, which if Bach had been writing in the French style would have been called a suite. Throughout the unaccompanied violin works and in those for solo cello, Bach showed his mastery at creating a many-voiced texture with what is essentially a single-line instrument, often by the use of double stops or rolled chords, but even more often by implying several melodic lines by artful figuration. He counted on the ability of the ear to pick out and hold onto notes in one register and string them together over time as an independent voice; one can often hear such implied voices in counterpoint, occurring in two or more registers. Whereas Bach began each of his solo cello suites with a Preludio, the E major Partita is the only solo violin work to open with such a movement and is notable for its larger than usual number of authentic dynamic markings. The cheerful perpetual motion of the Preludio has contributed greatly to the work’s popularity. Bach himself showed a fondness for it by transcribing it for organ and orchestra in Cantatas 120a and 29; he also made a transcription of the entire Partita for lute. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

December 5, 2021: Paul Jacobs, organ JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH (1685-1750) Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 582 December 5, 2021: Paul Jacobs, organ For the last work in this 335th anniversary celebration of Bach, we turn to the earliest work on the program and one of his most famous, the Passacaglia in C minor. Not only has this organ work been arranged numerous times for orchestra, piano, or various chamber groups, but it has made its way into popular culture through films and such diverse renditions as Jimi Hendrix’s Lift Off and the jazz flute version by Hubert Laws, both in 1973. Precise dating of the Passacaglia is educated guesswork, but a range between 1706 and 1713 is typically given. Though no manuscript in Bach’s hand exists, the various sources show enough variants to suggest that the original version was written out in organ tablature (system of notation with numbers, letters, and other signs to indicate keys). The thinking is that Bach may have made such a version during his visit to Lübeck in 1705–06 or perhaps shortly after he got back to Arnstadt, where he soon felt stifled after the stimulation of Lübeck and moved to an organist position at Mühlhausen. Or it could be that a later version spilled over into his early years at Weimar (see the note for BWV 582 for more about Weimar). The form of a passacaglia, often indistinguishable from that of a chaconne, consists of a series of variations based on a repeating pattern in the bass—typically four or eight measures—and relies on traditional chord progressions. Such pieces flourished especially during the Baroque era, when many composers made use of existing passacaglia themes for their own sets of variations. In Bach’s case, his work consists of a theme and twenty variations, the last of which is extended without pause by a fugue, which could also count as Variation 21. Some scholars have conjectured that Bach may have composed the Fugue first, basing it on two main subjects—the first drawn from a mass by French organist André Raison from his Livre d’orgue, published in Paris in 1699, and the second, which he would tweak to become the Passacaglia’s second half, placed as a pulsing countersubject to the first subject. Yet a third fugue subject in faster note values then enters as a countersubject to the combined counterpoint of the first two. The tweaked second half of the Passacaglia has been found to be similar to a passacaille in a different mass by Raison, which some view as just a coincidence. Whether or not the Fugue or the Passacaglia came first, both show added influences of other composers such as Buxtehude and Legrenzi whose works on repeating patterns Bach was studying around that time. Many commentators have proposed theories of what sorts of symbolism or symmetries seem to be at work in the Passacaglia, and there are numerous differences of opinion as to where formal divisions and groupings lie. A general consensus, however, seems to be that there is a break in intensity after Variation 12, followed by an “interlude” of three variations and another group of five that ends with great majesty. The Fugue is the work’s crowning achievement—more complicated than a fugue on a single subject and thus called a double fugue by many, though definitions vary. The upshot is that Bach was thinking about counterpoint in remarkably sophisticated ways and surpassing all of his models in creating an original design. After the first presentation of the subject and countersubject, this pair returns four times, migrating systematically among voices and moving out of and back into the home key—and at the same time incorporating a third subject (countersubject) as well as a layer of freely composed material. All of this leads with dramatic purpose to a resounding conclusion. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

April 14, 2019: Jason Vieaux, guitar ANTÔNIO CARLOS JOBÍM (1927-1994) A Felicidade April 14, 2019: Jason Vieaux, guitar Composer, pianist, guitarist, and arranger Antônio Carlos Jobim was greatly influenced by the American West Coast jazz composers of the 1950s, such as Jerry Mulligan, Chet Baker, and Barney Kessel, and, he said, by French Impressionist composer Claude Debussy. But he always infused his music with a bit of Brazilian samba, which gave it an exotic uniquenesss that attracted enormous popularity. Jobim is especially known for helping to launch the bossa nova craze, the movement that sprang up in the late 1950s in Rio de Janeiro as a stylistic shift in the urban samba. The term bossa nova may have first been used publicly in 1957 by journalist Moyses Fuks in promoting a concert by the Grupo Universitário Hebraico do Brasil, but it was a style that was already being pioneered by guitarist João Gilberto. His recordings of bossa nova songs by Jobim and lyricists Vinicius de Moraes and Newton Mendonça took the world by storm. The term combined bossa —slang in Rio for “shrewdness”—together with nova to describe the new complex melodic intervals, harmonies, and rhythmic structure. The subdued, almost spoken delivery, blending with the innovative guitar style—Gilberto had just recently invented his now-famous “stammering” guitar stroke—became just as important for bossa nova as its melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic innovations. Jobim is known especially for his bossa nova song “Girl from Ipanema,” composed in 1962 with Moraes, but another of his famous songs, also written with Moraes, came at the outset of the bossa nova craze. They wrote “A felicidade” in 1958 for the French film Orfeu Negro (Black Orpheus), directed by Marcel Camus and released in 1959. Sung by Agostinho dos Santos with Roberto Menescal on guitar, the song accompanies the opening credits. Jobim underlays its lyrical, haunting melody with exuberant bossa nova rhythms, exemplifying the conflict of its opening lines: “Sadness has no end, happiness / happiness does.” In 2001 guitarist, composer, and arranger Roland Dyens arranged “A felicidade” for guitar only, dedicating it Gilberto. He added idiomatic figuration and flourishes that make it a great virtuoso showpiece. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes