PARLANCE CHAMBER CONCERTS’S EXECUTIVE BOARD Warren F. Cooke, Vice President Warren F. Cooke of Ridgewood, New Jersey, practiced law for 38 years with the international law firm Milbank, Tweed, Hadley & McCloy, engaging primarily in domestic and international financial transactions. He served as a member of the Board of Directors of The American Bird Conservancy for ten years until January, 2017, and as Chairman of the Board for the last four years. He is currently a Trustee of The Nature Conservancy, New Jersey, and a member of the Boards of Trustees of Valley Health System and Valley Medical Group. He is a graduate of Dartmouth College and Yale Law School. He is passionate about music, and is by avocation a dedicated pianist. Edward Lowenthal, Board Member Mr. Lowenthal brings to our Board years of experience in the development and operation of real estate. Mr. Lowenthal currently serves as Chairman of the Board of American Campus Communities (NYSE: ACC) (a public developer, owner and operator of student housing at the university level), is a Director of Omega Healthcare (NYSE: OHI), an owner of skilled nursing and senior living facilities and serves as Vice Chairman of the Board and as trustee of the Manhattan School of Music. From January 1997 to March 2002, Mr. Lowenthal served as President and Chief Executive Officer of Wellsford Real Properties, Inc. (a real estate merchant bank) and was President of the predecessor of Wellsford Real Properties, Inc. since 1986. He is co-founder of Wellsford Strategic Partners, a private real estate investment company and is non-executive Chairman of Tiburon Lockers, Inc., a private rental locker company. He has a B.A. degree from Case Western Reserve University and a Law Degree from Georgetown University. Michael Parloff, President, Treasurer, Artistic Director As Artistic Director of Parlance Chamber Concerts, Michael Parloff is responsible for planning programs, engaging guest artists, delivering spoken and written program notes and interviews, and setting organizational goals. Mr. Parloff’s longtime experience in the world of classical music includes 30 years as Principal Flutist of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, 25 years as a faculty member of The Manhattan School of Music, and summer faculty positions at such institutions as The Lake Placid Institute, New York Summer Music Festival, Colorado College Music Festival, and The National Orchestral Institute in College Park, Md. Mr. Parloff has recorded extensively and regularly conducts and coaches conservatory woodwind ensembles. Donald W. Reeder, Chairman of the Board Donald W. Reeder is an attorney practicing in Bergen County, New Jersey, concentrating his practice in estate planning, estate administration. He graduated from Wesleyan University, cum laude and with honors, and New York University School of Law where he was a member of the Law Review. Mr. Reeder was admitted to the New York bar in 1971 and the New Jersey bar in 1973. After working in New York City and Bergen County as a corporate and securities attorney, he opened his own practice in Bergen County, New Jersey. He is married to Elizabeth Forbes and is the father of two children. His outside interests include choral singing, hiking and travel. Peter Riemer, Board Member Peter is an independent consulting healthcare actuary, advising employers on healthcare and welfare plan management. Peter holds a B.S. in Mathematics from Tufts University and an M.S. in Mathematics from Northeastern University. He is a Fellow of the Society of Actuaries, a Fellow of the Conference of Consulting Actuaries and a Member of the American Academy of Actuaries. Peter and his wife, Suzanne Taranto, reside in Ridgewood, and have two adult children. In his spare time, Peter enjoys woodworking and photography.

ABOUT THE 2007-2008 SEASON 2007-2008 SEASON Artist Roster Parlance Program Notes LOCATION At West Side Presbyterian Church 6 South Monroe Street Ridgewood, NJ 07450 For map and directions, click here . CONCERT AMENITIES Whee lchair Accessible Fr e e Parking for all concerts

ABOUT PARLANCE CHAMBER CONCERTS MISSION STATEMENT The Mission of Parlance Chamber Concerts is to: Promote the appreciation and understanding of classical chamber music in Northern New Jersey by presenting the world’s finest singers and instrumentalists in affordable, innovatively programmed public concerts. Inspire and build tomorrow’s audience for classical music in Northern New Jersey by creating public educational events designed specifically for children and young adults. Make a contribution to the cultural life of the Northern New Jersey community by establishing it as a recognized center for high-quality classical music events. NARRATIVE STATEMENT Founded in the 2007-2008 season by Metropolitan Opera Orchestra principal flutist Michael Parloff, Parlance Chamber Concerts is dedicated to bringing world-class instrumentalists and singers to Northern New Jersey in affordable, innovatively programmed concerts and educational events. Two events were presented during the inaugural 2007/08 season, and subsequent seasons saw a steady increase in the number of events offered. Nine public events are being presented during the 2024-25 season. All events take place in the acoustically superb sanctuary of West Side Presbyterian Church in Ridgewood, New Jersey. Parlance Chamber Concerts grew out of the success of more than a decade of benefit concerts organized and presented by Michael Parloff in his Ridgewood, New Jersey, home. These semiannual fundraising events supported various local nonprofit organizations. Michael Parloff’s reputation as one of America’s preeminent flutists and a leader in the chamber music world has enabled him to feature top-flight singers and instrumentalists from the Metropolitan Opera, New York Philharmonic, and New York City’s extraordinary chamber music community. A significant number of attendees came to these events initially as novice concertgoers and subsequently told Mr. Parloff that they learned to love and appreciate classical music through exposure to world class performers in the intimate, relaxed ambiance of his home. This gave rise to the idea of widening the audience for classical music in our community by presenting innovatively designed public concerts and educational events for listeners of all ages and levels of concert-going experience. The sense of connection between performers and audience members is strengthened by informal spoken introductions and program notes delivered during the course of the concerts and through post-concert receptions. The receptions provide audience members with opportunities to meet the performing artists and learn more about the music, the composers, and the performers themselves. Parlance Chamber Concerts are priced affordably to demonstrate our commitment to making chamber music available to as many people in our community as possible. In addition, sets of complimentary tickets are offered to local teachers and staff members of community organizations, including schools, hospitals, and mental health clinics. An important part of Parlance Chamber Concerts’ goals is to introduce children and newcomers to classical music. Parlance Chamber Concerts presents regular family concerts featuring leading members of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and the New York Philharmonic. Narrators have included well-known actors and New York City’s leading classical radio personalities. In addition, Parlance Chamber Concerts reaches out to underprivileged audiences in neighboring communities, offering free and discounted tickets to children and adults to many events over the course of each season. Parlance Chamber Concerts is also exploring the possibility of in-school fundraising concerts to benefit the music and arts programs in the public schools of Ridgewood, New Jersey. Past Parlance Chamber Concerts events have featured such world-renowned instrumentalists, singers, and chamber ensembles as The Emerson, Brentano, Jerusalem, Escher, Danish, Schumann, and Goldumund; pianists Jonathan Biss, Emanuel Ax, Richard Goode, Peter Serkin, Jeremy Denk, Garrick Ohlsson, Marc-André Hamelin, Paul Lewis, Orion Weiss, Anne-Marie McDermott, Lucille Chung, Simone Dinnerstein, Wu Han, Alessio Bax, Warren Jones, Conrad Tao, Jeewon Park, and Shai Wosner; flutists, Denis Bouriakov, James Galway; clarinetist Richard Stoltzman; violinists Chee-Yun, Pinchas Zukerman, Anne Akiko Meyers, Frank Huang, Benjamin Beilman, Elmar Oliveira and Stefan Jackiw; cellists Steven Isserlis, David Finckel and André Díaz; classical guitarists Sharon Isbin, Jason Vieaux, and the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet; harpists Mariko Anraku and Emmanuel Ceysson; and Metropolitan Opera star singers including sopranos Angel Blue, Danielle de Niese, Susanna Phillips, and Ying Fang, mezzo-sopranos Stephanie Blythe, Isabel Leonard, and Kate Lindsey, tenor Matthew Polenzani, baritones Thomas Hampson and Nathan Gunn, and bass Morris Robinson. The early music special Jordi Savall and his ensemble Hespèrion XXI have appeared on Parlance Chamber Concerts, as have Jazz artists including The Paquito D’Rivera Quintet, vibraphonist Stefon Harris, The Bill Charlap Trio, and noted guitarists Bucky Pizzarielli, Frank Vignola, and Howard Alden. Leading instrumentalists from the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, New York Philharmonic, and Lincoln Center Chamber Music Society have been featured each season on Parlance Chamber Concerts.

September 18, 2022: Seth Morris, flute; Elaine Douvas, oboe; Anton Rist, B-flat clarinet, Jessica Phillips, E-flat clarinet; Bryan Wagorn, piano AMILCARE PONCHELLI (1834-1886) Quartetto for woodwinds & piano accompaniment September 18, 2022: Seth Morris, flute; Elaine Douvas, oboe; Anton Rist, B-flat clarinet, Jessica Phillips, E-flat clarinet; Bryan Wagorn, piano After studying organ with his father as a very young boy, Amilcare Ponchielli received support from a wealthy patron to attend the Milan Conservatory at the age of nine. When he later took a job as a music teacher and organist in Cremona, he became especially interested in the town’s opera theater, and composing opera became his main love. At first he had little success and had to earn his living as a bandmaster, during which time he composed almost 100 works for band and more than 100 band arrangements of other composers’ works. Ponchielli kept trying to break into the opera world, both as conductor and composer, and his frustrations finally ended with the success of the revised version of I promessi sposi in 1872. Yet even that revision never went beyond conventional style when other Italian composers were beginning to espouse a more futuristic manner. Ponchielli held fast to the conventions of Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti, and Verdi, who himself ceased composing for a time in order to make his own adaptations to the changing currents of the time. Whereas Ponchielli may not have achieved the dramatic structure of Verdi, he was a master of melody, instrumental colors, and expressive details, and is considered the most important opera composer—aside from Verdi—of the period leading to the “Giovane Scuola” (young school) of composers such as Puccini, Mascagni, and Leoncavallo. Yet Ponchielli is known today almost solely for La Gioconda (1876), his only opera that is still performed regularly. In 1857, three years after graduating from the Milan Conservatory, Ponchielli composed his Quartetto for the unusual combination of flute, oboe, E-flat clarinet, and B-flat clarinet with orchestral accompaniment. The piece was premiered that year at the Teatro della Concordia in Cremona by local woodwind teachers—Ponchielli dedicated the piece to his dear friend Cesare Confalonieri, oboe professor at the Milan Conservatory. The work was eventually published in 1873 but with piano accompaniment. This virtuoso showpiece opens with an extended introduction for the piano, much as a concerto or Konzertstück would begin with orchestra. The frolicking first entrance of the winds immediately sets the novel tone for the high, bright quality of Ponchielli’s chosen palette, as does the first melody entrusted to the E-flat clarinet. This unfolds as the first of three main sections all strung together without pause and bearing certain characteristics of a cycle of sonata or concerto movements, while at the same time sounding right at home among freer operatic fantasies that are based on a series of distinctive melodies. Thus, after a first “movement” with sonata-form characteristics, the oboe takes the lead in a graceful “slow movement” marked Andante. A lighthearted theme and variations ensues with one of the charming variations, marked “Scherzoso con vivacità,” requiring the utmost skill from the flute and E-flat clarinet in rapid alternation. Ponchielli also showcases the oboe’s melancholy melodic style before returning to the vivacious vein, and the piece concludes with a dazzling blaze of virtuosity for all. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

February 8, 2015 – David Finckel, cello; Wu Han, piano DMITRI SHOSTAKOVICH (1906–1975) Sonata for Cello and Piano in d minor, Op. 40 (1934) February 8, 2015 – David Finckel, cello; Wu Han, piano While interpreting the events of a composer’s life as impetus for his creative work is always risky business, one important personal development from Shostakovich’s life around the time of his Cello Sonata nevertheless remains inescapable. In the summer of 1934, Shostakovich fell passionately in love with Yelena Konstaninovskaya, a 20-year-old translator. Much to the dismay of his wife Nina (despite their mutual agreement to an open marriage), the composer spent the majority of their summer holiday writing letter to his young mistress. “There is nothing in you which fails to send a wave of joy and fierce passion inside me when I think of you,” he wrote. “Lyalya, I love you so, I love you so, as nobody ever loved before. My love, my gold, my dearest, I love you so; I lay down my love before you.” William T. Vollman dedicates a chapter of his epic novel Europe Central to the tempting–albeit improbable–influence of the affair with Konstaninovskaya on the music of the Cello Sonata. Though rooted in fancy, Vollman’s poetic assessment of the work nevertheless speaks to its lyrical pathos and sense of romantic abandon: Each of Shostakovich’s symphonies I consider to be a multiply broken bridge, an archipelago of steel trailing off into the river. Opus 40, however, is a house with four rooms……[He] built Opus 40 for her and him to dwell in, and she led him inside. They were going to have an apartment with a dark passageway, then steps and halfsteps. They’d live there, deep below the piano keys in Moscow. Nina could stay in Leningrad… Therefore, Opus 40, and in particular the first movement, composed of firelight and kisses, remains the most romantic thing that Shostakovich ever wrote. Shostakovich and Nina separated, and the composer, as Vollman alludes, remained in Moscow with no definite plans to follow his wife back to Leningrad. It was during this time that work on the Cello Sonata began. By 1935, however, Nina was pregnant with the Shostakoviches’ first child, and the marriage essentially righted itself (which did not preclude later extramarital affairs by both Dmitry and Nina). Shortly after the affair ended, Konstaninovskaya received an anonymous political denunciation and spent roughly a year in prison. Shostakovich composed the Cello Sonata for the cellist Viktor Kubatsky, an esteemed cellist and one-time principal at the Bolshoi Theater. Shostakovich, also an able pianist, subsequently toured with Kubatsky, premiering his Cello Sonata in Leningrad on Christmas Day, 1934, alongside the cello sonatas of Grieg and Rachmaninov. The composer reportedly performed the piano parts to all three works from memory. ©2006 Patrick Castillo Return to Parlance Program Notes

February 26, 2017: Emanuel Ax, piano FREDERIC CHOPIN (1810-1849) Four Impromptus, Opp. 29, 36, 51, & 66 February 26, 2017: Emanuel Ax, piano Between 1834 and 1842 Chopin composed four impromptus (opp. 66, 29, 36, and 51 in that order), which, though conceived as separate pieces, share certain thematic material and a basic ternary shape (ABA). For Chopin, imprompt u did not mean a piece of an improvisatory nature but rather a character piece—a common if vague nineteenth-century designation—and his impromptus show evidence that he revised his materials more than once before arriving at their final form. Chopin composed his so-called Fantasy-Impromptu in C-sharp minor c. 1834 , but decided not to publish it for unknown reasons. He himself called the piece an “impromptu,” but his friend Julian Fontana added “fantasy” to the title when he published it in 1855, six years after Chopin’s death. (An alternate version was also published from a presentation manuscript Chopin made for dedicatee Baroness d’Este.) In 1834 Chopin had not yet solidified what “impromptu” meant for him personally as a genre. He had recently published his Etudes, op. 10, and this first Impromptu belongs to that world. It also shows indebtedness to the Impromptu in E-flat major, op. 89, by Ignaz Moscheles and to Schubert’s Impromptu, op. 90, no. 2. (It has been suggested that similarities to the Moscheles Impromptu may have been a reason for withholding it from publication, but that notion is contradicted by the fact that he published other pieces modeled on those by Moscheles.) The C-sharp minor Impromptu continues to be one of Chopin’s most popular pieces. It unfolds in a simple ternary form whose outer sections feature rippling figuration from which a melody in longer notes emerges. The slower middle section offers an expansive, lyrical melody (later appropriated for the pop song “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows”), which Chopin treats several times at leisure before returning the scurrying opening section. He also recalls the tune in his ruminating coda. By 1837, when Chopin wrote his second Impromptu in A-flat major , he demonstrated his clear personal definition of the genre by modeling the piece on his own unpublished C-sharp minor Impromptu. Many commentators have pointed out similarities between the two in regard to formal design, texture, and details of phrase structure and motives. That this was a time of despair for Chopin, when his hopes of marrying Maria Wodziński were crushed, contrasts markedly with the effervescent atmosphere of this piece’s outer sections. The middle section becomes more ruminative but hardly brooding. Especially memorable are the cascading chromatics of the “A” sections and the harmonic digressions and melodic embellishments of the “B” section. Chopin composed the third Impromptu in F-sharp minor in 1839 at Nohant, the country estate of writer George Sand (pseudonym of Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin), with whom he had by now become romantically involved. Chopin scholar Jim Samson has argued persuasively that “this piece was the single most important harbinger of Chopin’s later style” in its variation style that is built on an ostinato (repeating pattern), its march-like middle section, and the threefold variation of the reprise. The manuscript reveals that the form of this prophetic composition caused Chopin a great struggle. Some of the most striking features of the piece are the astonishing tonal wrench to the unexpected key of F major for the return of the opening theme and the amazing figuration as the theme is varied—finger exercises transformed into magical effects. The delicate, harmonically adventurous fourth Impromptu in G-flat major , Chopin’s personal favorite, dates from the summer of 1842 at Nohant, polished the following autumn/winter. It exists in two versions, one transmitted through his onetime pupil Carl Filtsch, who copied it out either by ear or from a manuscript in 1841. If by ear, he hadn’t remembered how Chopin exquisitely varied the main theme in thirds and sixths on its later appearances, and, if copying from a manuscript, he must have been looking at a version from before Chopin arrived at this imaginative stroke. Chopin likely modeled his G-flat major Impromptu, especially the figuration of the outer sections, on his A-flat major Impromptu. The fourth Impromptu’s outer sections are striking for their ethereal rising scales before certain phrase endings, the adventurous harmonies of their transition passage, and a new second theme. In the slower middle section Chopin features a singing, contemplative melody in the cello register. The sophistication of his harmonies and intricately interconnected flow of ideas make it clear why Chopin favored this Impromptu and regrettable that it has often been overlooked. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

May 15, 2016: James Morris, bass-baritone; Ken Noda, piano JACQUES IBERT (1890-1962) Chansons de Don Quichotte May 15, 2016: James Morris, bass-baritone; Ken Noda, piano In 1932 film director Georg Pabst decided to make a film about Don Quixote starring the great Russian bass Chaliapin, who had created Massenet’s Don Quichotte. Though certain mystery surrounds the history of the film, it appears that the film company organized a kind of competition—unbeknownst to the composers involved—to write songs for it. Five composers—Marcel Delannoy, Manuel de Falla, Jacques Ibert, Darius Milhaud, and Maurice Ravel—were asked, though only Ravel and Ibert set to work. Ibert’s four settings, one of a Ronsard poem and three of Alexandre Arnoux, were chosen; he dedicated them to Chaliapin. Ravel, who was late submitting his three wonderful settings of Morand poems, considered bringing action against the company but gave up when the producers (not Pabst) absconded with the money for the film. Ibert was embarrassed when he learned his songs had been chosen over Ravel’s, but their friendship was not in the least impaired. The film was finally made with newly raised money, but seems to have had little success due to Chaliapin’s inability to adjust his theater technique to the medium of film. It is curious that Chaliapin’s recording of the songs, made on March 13, 1933, diverges in many ways from the letter of the score, particularly as Ibert was conducting. Ibert was drawn not only to films—he composed 63 film scores in all—but also to the Don Quixote story. In 1935 he wrote one of his most important works Chevalier errant (Knight Errant), a choreographic epic based on Don Quixote; he also orchestrated his Chansons de Don Quichotte. He said, “Indeed, the character of Don Quichotte has never ceased to follow me, or perhaps I am the one who has been looking for him all the time. Yet one should not conclude from this that I like to struggle against mills or that I am someone who can restore justice. Don Quichotte, to me, is a man in search of an ideal that he never finds.” The vocal melismas and guitar-like accompaniment of “Chanson du départ” (Song of Parting) immediately impart the Spanish flavor of Don Quixote’s country—Spanish impressions were immensely popular with French composers of the time. “Chanson à Dulcinée” (Song to Dulcinea) alternates a quick refrain with two slower verses, the second a variant of the first. Its sustained, quiet ending in fairly high register was meant to show off Chaliapin’s great control. “Chanson du duc” (The Duke’s Song) consists of three short energetic verses, each slowing to a crawl; the modal style suggests times of old. In “Chanson de la mort de Don Quichotte” (Song of Don Quixote’s Death) the dying Don bids farewell to Sancho Panza to a simple accompaniment. His sustained dying note is set yet a half step higher than the ending of “Dulcinea’s Song.” © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

April 23, 2017: Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano; Warren Jones, piano HECTOR BERLIOZ (1803-1869) Les nuits d’été, op. 7 April 23, 2017: Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano; Warren Jones, piano The origins and inspirations for some of the most ravishing songs in the repertory are somewhat obscure. Berlioz composed Les nuits d’été (Summer Nights)—originally for voice with piano—in 1840–41 following his dramatic symphony Roméo et Juliette . The date March 23, 1840, appears on a manuscript copy of “Villanelle” and the cycle of six songs was published in the summer of 1841, but Berlioz never mentions them in his letters around this time. These are love songs of the highest Romantic order—Romantic referring to the period that saw the rise of lieder, or mélodie in France, as the ideal genre to express the countless images of buoyant hope, insatiable longing, and heartbreak that permeated Romantic poetry. Were Les nuits d’été really inspired by Berlioz’s mistress, Marie Martin (stage name Recio), as many have claimed? Berlioz began seeing Marie around this time and she accompanied him on his travels of 1842–43. Well aware of her limitations as a singer—she lasted only one season at the Paris Opéra—he still wrote vaguely positive reviews of several of her performances. She was the most frequent performer of “Absence,” the fourth song in the cycle, which he orchestrated specifically for her. Yet the many references to past love affairs and separations in the cycle make it difficult to link the settings too specifically with Marie. And, one would almost rather attribute these gorgeous outpourings to any other inspiration, in view of his unhappiness under her tenacious, jealous hold and her insistence on performing on his concerts over his opposition. Perhaps it was simple admiration for the poems of his friend and fellow critic Théophile Gautier that inspired Berlioz to such heights. He selected six poems from Gautier’s La comédie de la mort (The comedy of death)—two of a lighthearted nature, which he positioned first and last, and four in a more melancholy vein. The composer provided his own title, drawn from the poet’s images of night. The first song, “Villanelle,” is clearly a “daylight” song, but it sets up the happiness that will later turn to despair. Images of night appear repeatedly in the interior songs, even though “summer nights” are not specifically mentioned. In “La spectre de la rose” the ghost of a rose returns nightly to haunt the dreams of a young woman who wore the flower to a ball. In “Sur les lagunes” (On the lagoons), night envelops the lamenting lover. “Au cimitière: Clair de lune” (At the cemetery: moonlight) explicitly occurs at night, but also includes lovely images of shade and sunset. In 1843 Berlioz orchestrated “Absence” as a kind of appeasement offering to Marie, and she performed this version several times. It was not until 1856, however, that he orchestrated another of the songs, choosing “Spectre de la rose” for a February engagement with mezzo-soprano Anna Bockholtz-Falconi. Ecstatic over the performance, publisher Jakob Rieter-Biedermann asked Berlioz to orchestrate the remaining songs. The new versions were published later that year, each dedicated to a different singer who had impressed him in roles he had written. One wonders how it struck Marie (whom he had married in 1854) to learn that her “Absence” had been dedicated to Madeleine Nottès, his Marguerite in Faust. The songs have been performed countless times since and have long since been considered among Berlioz’s finest creations. “Villanelle” owes its infectious merriment to the simplicity of its melody and to the lightly repeated chords in the winds—an effect Berlioz had commented on in the second movement of Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony. Especially effective are the ends of the second and third verses (the first contains the same musical phrase, but without tempo fluctuations.) In the second the music slows at “et dis moi de ta voix si doux ” (and say to me in your soft voice), then resumes in a rush with “toujours ” (always). The third verse’s lovely image of returning with strawberries picked in the wood doesn’t really warrant the slowing and speeding up, but we are happy to hear the device again. The atmosphere changes immediately for “Spectre de la rose,” which employs longer spun-out phrases and a delicate orchestral texture of solo muted cello, paired flute and clarinet, and muted violin and viola background. The haunting images of the poem are made more poignant by Berlioz’s touches of nostalgic sweetness. Leaps are employed with tender expressiveness, and he finds just the right orchestral touches, as in the string tremolos at “Ce léger parfum est mon âme ” (This faint perfume is my soul). He ends ingeniously in simple recitative as the poet bestows his epitaph with a kiss. “Sur les lagunes,” the only minor-mode setting, presents a dark mood with its mournful half-step motive and repetitive accompaniment figure, which suggests the undulating of a boat on water. The grief-stricken lover cries out in a dramatic descent at the end of each verse: “Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer! ” (Ah, without love to depart on the sea!) The song ends on an unresolved harmony—at sea, as it were. “Absence” also dwells on bereavement, that of separation, with the most exquisite lingering over the opening phrase. This phrase, which opens the refrain and therefore returns twice, is haunting in its unusual harmonization and its straining upward. The refrain also contains one of the most agonizingly beautiful peaks anywhere, leading to and attaining the word “loin ” (far). The intervening episodes contribute to the drama by building in a chanting style, the second at a higher pitch level than the first. Gentle pulsation characterizes the opening and closing sections of “Au cimitière,” with subtle harmonic shifts between major and minor. The middle section becomes more agitated (verses 3 and 4), and Berlioz makes a fitting response to the poet’s words about music bringing back a memory. The ending contains some gently clashing dissonances to reflect the “chant plaintif ” (plaintive song). Berlioz exuberantly portrays the high spirits and exoticism of the poet’s “L’île inconnue” (Unknown isle). We also hear undulating waves and the breeze whipping up. A hint of reflection follows the sailor’s admission to his fair companion that the faithful shore of eternal love is little known. Anywhere else is fair game, suggests the cheerful conclusion as the wind picks up and the waves are set in motion again. © Jane Vial Jaffe Texts and Translations Les nuits d’été Villanelle Quand viendra la saison nouvelle, Quand auront disparu les froids, Tous les deux nous irons, ma belle, Pour cueillir le muguet aux bois. Sous nos pieds égrenant les perles, Que l’on voit au matin trembler, Nous irons écouter les merles Siffler. Le printemps est venu, ma belle, C’est le mois des amants béni; Et l’oiseau, satinant son aile, Dit des vers au rebord du nid. Oh, viens donc, sur ce banc de mousse Pour parler de nos beaux amours, Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce Toujours! Loin, bien loin, égarant nos courses, Faisons fuir le lapin caché, Et le daim au miroir des sources, Admirant son grand bois penché, Puis chez nous, tout heureux, tout aises, En paniers enlaçant nos doigts, Revenons, rapportant des fraises Des bois. Le spectre de la rose Soulève ta paupière close Qu’effleure un songe virginal Je sais le spectre d’une rose Que tu portais hier au bal. Tu me pris encor emperlée Des pleurs d=argent de l’arrosoir, Et parmi la fête étoilée Tu me promenas tout le soir. O toi, qui de ma mort fut cause, Sans que tu puisses le chasser, Toutes les nuits mon spectre rose À ton chevet viendra danser. Mais ne crains rien, je ne réclame Ni messe ni De Profundis. Ce léger parfum est mon âme Et j’arrive du paradis. Mon destin fut digne d’envie, Et pour avoir un sort si beau Plus d’un aurait donné sa vie. Car sur ton sein j’ai mon tombeau, Et sur l’albâtre où je repose Un poète avec un baiser Écrivit “Ci-gît une rose Que tous les rois vont jalouser.” Sur les lagunes: Lamento Ma belle amie est morte. Je pleurerai toujours; Sous la tombe elle emporte Mon âme et mes amours. Dans le ciel sans m’attendre Elle s’en retourna; L’ange qui l’emmena Ne voulut pas me prendre. Que mon sort est amer! Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer! La blanche créature Est couchée au cercueil. Comme dans la nature Tout me paraît en deuil! La colombe oubliée Pleure et songe à l’absent; Mon âme pleure et sent Qu’elle est dépareillée. Que mon sort est amer! Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer! Sur moi la nuit immense S’étend comme un linceul. Je chante ma romance Que le ciel entend seul. Ah, comme elle était belle, Et comme je l’aimais! Je n’aimerai jamais Une femme autant qu’elle. Que mon sort est amer! Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer Absence Reviens, reviens, ma bien aimée! Comme une fleur loin du soleil La fleur de ma vie est fermée Loin de ton sourire vermeil. Entre nos coeurs quelle distance! Tant d’espace entre nos baisers! O sort amer! O dure absence! O grands désirs inapaisés! Reviens, reviens, etc. D’ici lâ-bas que de campagnes, Que de villes et de hameaux, Que de vallons et de montagnes, À lasser le pied des chevaux! Reviens, reviens, etc. Au cimitière: Clair de lune Connaissez-vous la blanche tombe Où flotte avec un son plaintif L’ombre d’un if? Sur l’if une pâle colombe, Triste et seule au soleil couchant, Chante son chant: Un air maladivement tendre, À la fois charmant et fatal Qui vous fait mal Et qu’on voudrait toujours entendre; Un air comme en soupire aux cieux L’ange amoureux. On dirait que l’âme éveillée Pleure sous terre à l’unisson De la chanson Et du malheur d’être oubliée Se plaint dans un roucoulement Bien doucement. Sur les ailes de la musique On sent lentement revenir Un souvenir Une ombre, une forme angélique Passe dans un rayon tremblant En voile blanc. Les belles de nuit demi-closes Jettent leur parfum faible et doux Autour de vous, Et le fantôme aux molles poses Murmure en vous tendant les bras: Tu reviendras! Oh jamais plus, près de la tombe Je n’irai, quand descend le soir Au manteau noir, Écouter le pâle colombe Chanter sur la pointe de l’if Son chant plantif. L’île inconnue Dites, la jeune belle, Où voulez-vous aller? La voile enfle son aile, La brise va souffler. L’aviron est d=ivoire, La pavillon de moire, Le gouvernail d’or fin. J=ai pour lest une orange, Pour voile une aile d=ange, Pour mousse un séraphin. Dites, la jeune belle, Où voulez-vous aller? La voile enfle son aile, La brise va souffler. Est-ce dans la Baltique? Dans la mer Pacifique? Dans l’île de Java? Ou bien est-ce en Norvège, Cueillir la fleur de neige, Ou la fleur d’Angsoka? Dites, la jeune belle, Où voulez-vous aller? Menez-moi, dit la belle, À la rive fidèle Où l’on aime toujours! Cette rive, ma chère, On ne la connaît guère Au pays des amours. Où voulez-vous aller? La brise va souffler. —Théophile Gautier Summer Nights Villanelle When the new season comes And the cold weather has gone, We will go together, my love, To pick lily-of-the-valley in the woods; Our feet scattering the pearls That we see trembling as morning dew, We will go and hear the blackbirds Sing. The spring has come, my love, It is the blessed season for lovers; And the bird, preening its wings, Sings songs from the edge of its nest. Oh come and sit on this mossy bank And talk of our happy love, And say to me in your soft voice: Always! Far, far away, our footsteps wandering, We’ll startle the rabbit from its hiding, And the deer, mirrored in the stream, Admiring its great antlers; Then back home, completely happy, content, Our fingers entwined, return Carrying baskets of wild Strawberries. The Specter of the Rose Lift up your eyelids That glow with a maiden dream. I am the specter of a rose Which you wore last night to the ball. You took me still moist From the silver tears of the watering can. And through the starry festivities You walked me with you all evening. Oh you who was cause of my death, Without your being able to escape it, Every night my pink specter Will come to dance at the head of your bed. But do not fear anything, I don’t ask for Mass or De profundis. This faint perfume is my soul And it is from paradise that I come. My destiny was one to be coveted; To have a fate so beautiful, Many would have given their lives. For my tomb is on your breast, And on the alabaster where I rest A poet with his kiss Writes: “Here lies a rose That all kings will envy.” On the Lagoons: Lament My fair one is dead. I will weep always. She has taken with her into the tomb My whole being and all my love. To heaven, without waiting for me She returned. The angel who drew her back Would not take me with her. How bitter is my fate. Ah, without love to depart on the sea! The white creature Sleeps in the coffin; And now all nature Seems to me in mourning. The forsaken dove Cries and dreams of the departed; My soul cries and feels As if cut in two. How bitter is my fate. Ah, without love to depart on the sea! All about me, the vast night Spreads like a shroud. I sing my song, And the sky alone hears it. Ah, how beautiful she was, And how I loved her! Never will I love A woman as much as she. How bitter is my fate! Ah, without love to depart on the sea! Absence Come back, come back my beloved. Like a flower away from the sun The flower of my life is closed up Away from your warm smile. What distance lies between our hearts; So great a gulf between our kisses; O bitter fate! O cruel absence! Mighty desires unsatisfied. Come back, etc. From here to there what plains lie between, What towns and villages. What valleys and hills, To tire the horses’ hooves. At the Cemetery: Moonlight Do you know the white gravestone Where floats with a plaintive song The shade of a yew tree? On the yew a solitary white dove, Sad and alone as the sun sets, Sings its song: A sickly sweet air At once enchanting and fatal, Which affects you unpleasantly And which one would like to hear always; Like a song sighed to heaven By an angel in love. One would say the awakened soul Weeps under the earth in unison With the song, And from grief at being forgotten Complains in a cooing Very softly. On the wings of music One feels slowly returning A memory A shade, an angelic form Passes in a shimmering ray, Shrouded in white. The beauties of the night, half-closed, Throw their weak and soft perfume Around you And the phantom in mellow poses, Whispers while stretching its arms toward you: You will come back! Oh never again, near the tomb Will I go, when evening descends In its black coat, To hear the pale dove Sing from the top of the yew Its plaintive song. The Unknown Isle Tell me, young beauty, Where do you want to go? The sails are set, The breeze is getting up. The oar is ivory, The flag of silk, The helm of fine gold. For ballast I have an orange, For sail, an angel’s wing, For ship’s boy a seraph. Tell me, young beauty, Where do you want to go? The sails are set, The breeze is getting up. Is it to the Baltic? To the Pacific Ocean? To the Island of Java? Or is it to Norway, To pick the snowflowers, Or the flowers of Angsoka? Tell me, young beauty, Where do you want to go? Take me, the fair one replies, To the faithful shore Where love lasts forever. That shore, my dear, Is little known In the country of love. Where do you want to go? The breeze is getting up. Return to Parlance Program Notes

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 2023 AT 4 PM ANGEL BLUE, SOPRANO BRYAN WAGORN, PIANO SONGS, ARIAS, AND SPIRITUALS Angel Blue , soprano Bryan Wagorn , piano ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS Angel Blue has emerged in recent seasons as one of the most influential sopranos before the public today. The two-time Grammy Award winner, 2020 Beverly Sills Award recipient, and 2022 Richard Tucker Award winner is celebrated worldwide for her honeyed soprano and affecting deliveries of many of the most beloved roles in the operatic repertory. Angel Blue has been praised for performances in nearly every major opera house in the world, including Teatro alla Scala, Covent Garden, the Vienna State Opera, and the Metropolitan Opera where she has triumphed in roles as diverse as Violetta in La Traviata, Mimi in La Boheme, Bess in Porgy and Bess , and Destiny/Loneliness/Greta in Terrence Blanchard's Fire Shut Up in My Bones . For her much-anticipated Parlance debut, Angel Blue and pianist Bryan Wagorn will perform a diverse program cherished songs, arias, and spirituals . 2023-2024 SEASON October 15, 202 3 Lysander Piano Trio November 12, 2023 Angel Blue, soprano Bryan Wagorn, piano December 3, 2023 Brentano String Quartet Antioch Chamber Choir January 14, 2024 Goldmund String Quartet February 18, 2024 Candlelit Music of The Spirit March 10, 2024 Richard Goode, Piano Late Beethoven April 7, 2024 Jordi Savall, Conductor Hespèrion XXI May 12, 2024 Mothers Day Concert June 2, 2024 Mozart’s Double Concertos Artist Roster Parlance Program Notes LOCATION At West Side Presbyterian Church 6 South Monroe Street Ridgewood, NJ 07450 For map and directions, click here . CONCERT AMENITIES Whee lchair Accessible Fr e e Parking for all concerts FEATURING BUY TICKETS “Luminous soprano voice and unforced charisma.” — New York Times PROGRAM Gabriel Fauré Clair de lune Mandoline Fleur jetée Program Notes Claude Debussy Clair de Lune for piano Program Notes Richard Strauss Heimliche Aufforderung Allerseelen Befreit Morgen Cäcilie Program Notes Gershwin Two Preludes for piano Allegro ben ritmato e deciso Andante con moto e poco rubato Program Notes American Songbook Arlen: I Wonder What Became of Me Gershwin: Our Love is Here to Stay Weill: Youkali Program Notes Three Arias by Giacomo Puccini Chi il bel Sogno Vissi d’Arte O Mio Babbino Caro Program Notes Spirituals Good News You Can Tell the World Deep River Ride on King Jesus Program Notes Watch Angel Blue perform Mi chiamano Mimi from Puccini’s La Boheme:

April 24, 2022 – Marc-André Hamlein, piano C.P.E. BACH (1714–1788) Suite in E minor Wq 62/12 April 24, 2022 – Marc-André Hamlein, piano Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, third child of J. S. Bach to survive beyond infancy, asserted in his autobiography that he never had any music teacher but his father. Though he may have been exposed to various instruments, he apparently studied only keyboards—clavichord, harpsichord, and the new fortepiano. He traveled very little and held just two long-term major positions: royal chamber music accompanist at the Berlin court of Frederick the Great from 1738 to 1768 and—succeeding his godfather Georg Philipp Telemann—Kantor of the Lateinschule and director of music in the five principal churches in Hamburg (1768–88). As geographically constrained as his life seems to have been, by the time he moved to Hamburg at age fifty-four he was the most famous keyboard player and teacher in Europe. Rejecting much of the polyphonic style of his father, C.P.E. Bach turned to the new German “empfindsamer” (intimately expressive) style, elsewhere called “galant,” of which his music is considered the best representative. The empfindsamer Stil is apparent in his sudden changes of Affekt (affect or mood), bold harmonic schemes, “sighing” motives, and greater emphasis on melody. These characteristics occur to some extent throughout his one thousand or so works, ranging from songs and oratorios to symphonies and keyboard works. The keyboard works, which form the core of his output from the 1730s to the last years of his life, consist of sonatas, fantasias, dance movements, and variations. Only rarely did C.P.E. Bach employ the standard movements of his father’s suites—allemande, courante, sarabande, minuet (or alternate dance such as a gavotte or bourrée), and gigue—as in the present Suite in E minor. The piece first appeared in print under the title “Sonata” in 1761 in the fourth collection of Musikalisches Allerley von verschiedenen Tonkünstlern (Musical pot-pourri by various composers) issued by Berlin publisher Friedrich Wilhelm Birnsteil. Clearly Bach made revisions to certain movements for publication, as can be seen by comparison with his manuscript version of 1751. Scholars are divided on whether the work was actually composed in 1751 or, owing to its retrospective suite form, in the 1730s. The new complete works edition of C.P.E. Bach’s keyboard works, which runs to eighteen volumes (!), rightly classifies it as a suite and provides the opportunity to compare the 1751 version with that published a decade later. Despite C.P.E. Bach’s use of the old-fashioned sequence of movements, his originality shines in his expressive chromatic harmonies and melodic infections, rhythmic motives, syncopations and disruptions, and changes of register. The Allemande, the most extensive of the movements, adopts the stile brisé (arpeggiated texture) of the French harpsichordists, which helps to sustain decaying sounds of notes struck on the keyboard (or lute). The faster paced Courante also keeps up a constant motion with a texture that shift easily between three and two voices. The pensive Sarabande, in imitative style, is striking for its harmonic coloring and expressive peaks, especially in the second half. The fourth movement features three Menuets, the first returning after the second and third in the manner of a refrain. Each exhibits a different character—the first is notable for its striking bass-note downbeats while the upper voice is silent and for its plentiful dotted (long-short) rhythms, the second for its graceful sets of melodic repeated notes, and the third for a very different emphasis on repeated notes in the right hand over a non-stop running bass. The nimble Gigue again takes up the imitative style of an invention, highlighted by a shift to the upper register to begin the second half. Our featured artist Marc-André Hamelin, in a January 2022 interview with Presto Music’s Katherine Cooper, talked about his acclaimed new recording, C.P.E. Bach Sonatas and Rondos (Hyperion). Aside from his childhood knowledge of several C.P.E. Bach pieces, a crucial seed was planted when he listened to his wife’s broadcast of a Mikhail Pletnev C.P.E. Bach CD on her classical radio show around 2008–09, but it wasn’t until three or four years ago that Hamelin seriously explored making a C.P.E. Bach recording himself. The difficult part was choosing what to record out of the eighteen volumes of the complete keyboard works, which were offered to him by the edition’s managing director, Paul Corneilson. Said Hamelin, “I did this recording out of sheer love for the music—and out of hope that it might incite more pianists to look into it, because it’s a fascinating trove of treasures.” © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

April 3, 2016: Sir James Galway, flute; Benjamin Beilman and Danbi Um, violins; Mark Holloway, viola; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Timothy Cobb, bass; Paolo Bourdignon, harpsichord JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH (1685-1750) Suite in B minor, BWV 1067 for flute, strings, and continuo April 3, 2016: Sir James Galway, flute; Benjamin Beilman and Danbi Um, violins; Mark Holloway, viola; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Timothy Cobb, bass; Paolo Bourdignon, harpsichord When music scholars began sifting through Bach’s long-forgotten works in the nineteenth century, they came across four orchestral masterpieces that they catalogued as “orchestral suites” because of their similarity to suites for keyboard or individual string instruments—and simply to avoid confusion. Bach, however, had called them “ouvertures” in the tradition of his German contemporaries, who used the term for orchestral works headed by a “French overture,” followed by a string of French-style dance movements, such as bourrées, gavottes, and minuets, in binary form—two halves each repeated. Since the seventeenth century, French composers had been introducing their ballets and operas with multisectioned ouvertures, which Jean-Baptiste Lully expanded and standardized into what became known as the “French overture.” These introductory pieces consisted of two contrasting sections: the first marchlike and majestic with characteristic dotted (long-short) rhythms, and the second faster, in contrasting meter (triple or compound) with imitative, contrapuntal texture. They often closed with a brief return to the opening stately music. English and German composers adopted this style to satisfy the prevailing taste for things French. Bach’s four existing orchestral suites (there may have been others that did not survive) cannot be precisely dated, but the First in C major and Fourth in D major probably stem from about 1725 (the Fourth also exists in a later version). The Second in B minor may date from around 1738–39, and the Third Suite—also in D major—from about 1731. Since 1723 Bach had been working in Leipzig, where he was responsible for the music of the town’s four principal churches and civic music events, and trained the musicians at the Thomasschule. In addition to those myriad duties, he began directing the Collegium Musicum in 1729, continuing until the early 1740s (with a short interruption from 1737 to 1739). The Collegium Musicum presented weekly public community concerts, for which he produced all manner of music: overtures, duo and trio sonatas, sinfonias, concertos, and suites. The earliest existing copies of the orchestral suites indeed date from Bach’s Leipzig days, but it is conceivable that he could have composed some of them previously in Cöthen when he was employed by music-loving Prince Leopold. The beloved seven-movement Second Suite, with the sparest scoring of the four, includes only flute along with the strings and continuo. Its opening “French overture” features characteristic dotted rhythms and elegant ornamental figures in its majestic first section and a fugal fast section. Here for the most part, and in the Rondeau, Sarabande, and Minuet, the flute mainly doubles the first violin part, but in the movements that include an interior second dance before the opening dance returns—the Bourrée and Polonaise—the middle dance contains a more elaborate solo flute part. In the lively perpetual-motion final movement—Badinerie—the flute takes the spotlight throughout in the manner of a flute concerto. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

September 14, 2025: “SINGERS” FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA BRAD GEMEINHARDT, HORN; MUSICIANS FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA; MICHAEL PARLOFF, CONDUCTOR WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) Horn Concerto No. 4 in E-flat, K. 495 September 14, 2025: “SINGERS” FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA BRAD GEMEINHARDT, HORN; MUSICIANS FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA; MICHAEL PARLOFF, CONDUCTOR Mozart lost no time looking up his old friend and horn virtuoso Joseph Leutgeb (c. 1745–1811) when he settled in Vienna in 1781. Mozart had known Leutgeb as the principal horn in the Salzburg court orchestra, and, though Leutgeb was now working in his wife’s family’s cheese business in Vienna, he continued to play the horn publicly until at least 1792. As early as 1777, when he transferred to Vienna, Leutgeb had asked Mozart for a horn concerto, but it wasn’t until the composer himself moved to Vienna that he wrote the first of his several works for horn and orchestra. In fact his first Viennese composition, though not a concerto, was the Rondo for horn and orchestra, K. 371, dated March 21, 1781, in his own catalog of works. Mozart loved to tease and ridicule Leutgeb, consequently some of the manuscripts he wrote for him are full of sarcastic comments and playful jibes. Despite Mozart’s oft-reported insensitivity to Leutgeb, they remained close friends to the end. The works Mozart wrote for Leutgeb stand as the true testament not only to their friendship but to the horn player’s skills. Mozart composed his concertos for the hand horn (or natural horn), which had no valves to produce notes that did not occur naturally in the instrument’s harmonic series. These notes could be elicited only by pressing the hand into the bell, something regular orchestral players were not usually required to do, but which solo and chamber music players had to master in order to fill in the full range of notes. These “stopped” notes produce a different tone quality, which Mozart naturally took into consideration, but he was well aware that he could write virtuosically for the horn because of Leutgeb’s abilities. All the works Mozart wrote for Leutgeb—the Quintet K. 386c (K. 407) for horn and strings, several concertos, some fragmentary compositions, and probably the above-mentioned Rondo—admirably display the horn player’s spectrum from vivacious to lyrical playing. The three complete Horn Concertos, K. 417, 447, and 495, all in E-flat major, are misleadingly known as Nos. 2, 3, and 4 because a two-movement work in D major had erroneously been assigned “No. 1,” and K. 447 had been thought to have been composed before the present work, K. 495. The date of this piece, actually the second of the complete concertos, has never been in doubt, for Mozart entered it into his catalog on June 26, 1786, describing it as “A hunting horn concerto for Leutgeb.” Composed just two months after Mozart had completed The Marriage of Figaro , the Horn Concerto not only revels in hunting-horn idioms (last movement), but also exhibits the juxtaposition of elegant melodic bustle and tenderness. The manuscript shows Mozart’s cheerful state of mind in writing for his friend: he employs a variety of different colored inks—black, red, blue, and green. Among the notable aspects of the first movement, the most extended in all the horn concertos, is the soloist’s adoption of the long-note theme of the oboes as the main theme rather than the rhythmic violin melody. The “early” entrance of the soloist is also unusual as is the reordering of the materials in the recapitulation and the additional appearance of the soloist after the cadenza. The slow movement would have shown off Leutgeb’s renowned lyrical playing admirably. It was reported about his solo playing in Paris in the Mercure de France in 1770 that he could “sing an adagio as perfectly as the most mellow, interesting, and accurate voice.” The main theme shows a striking similarity to that of the slow movement (also in B-flat major) of the four-hand Piano Sonata, K. 497, which Mozart completed just over one month after K. 495. The finale, perhaps the most familiar of the composer’s “hunting horn” finales, consists of a rousing rondo in 6/8 meter, replete with horn fanfares. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes