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December 5, 2021: Paul Jacobs, organ JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH (1685-1750) Prelude and Fugue in C Major, BWV 547 December 5, 2021: Paul Jacobs, organ Dating has proved extremely elusive for this remarkably masterful, surprisingly underperformed work. Scholars have proposed dates as early as c. 1719, which would mean post-Weimar (see note for BWV 532 for more about Weimar) when Bach was in Cöthen serving Prince Leopold as Kapellmeister, and as late as the 1740s in Leipzig (see note for Sinfonia from Cantata 29 for more about Leipzig), with some middle ground as “by 1725” (early Leipzig). The complexity of both movements and the parallels between them argue for Leipzig, but Bach’s mixture of originality, tradition, and scattered similarities to various works surely account for the differing opinions. Both the Prelude and the Fugue employ short pithy motives that give no hint of the spontaneous excursions that Bach spins out nor what scholar Peter Williams calls their “carefully planned finality.” Each of the first three bars of the Prelude offers a distinct shape that proves recognizable in many variations throughout. The leaping jagged middle idea provides the basis for the leaping pedal, which never takes up the other two shapes. Bach creates the finality that will have its parallel in the Fugue with dramatic chords and a final sustained low pedal note that all point to home. The Fugue subject also operates in one-bar segments, seemingly unfolding as a four-voice fugue with each manual responsible for two of the voices and a palpable absence of pedal. Unusual for Bach, he presents five slightly varied expositions with imaginative ways of linking them and the sheer number of times we hear the subject in myriad ways is stunning. Suddenly, two-thirds of the way into the fugue, the pedal thunders out in a fifth voice with the subject in longer note values (augmentation) while the other four voices perform miraculous strettos and inversions of the subject—pure contrapuntal wizardry. The coda takes place over the same low home pedal that Bach employed in the Prelude, now providing even grander finality by sustaining to the very end. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

May 12, 2024: Lucille Chung, piano Robert Schumann Scenes from Childhood, Op. 15 for piano May 12, 2024: Lucille Chung, piano Schumann was at his best when composing miniatures for piano, which he grouped together under various picturesque titles such as Davidsbündlertänze, Fantasiestücke, Noveletten, and Kreisleriana. Perhaps the most purely conceived works of this type, distilled to their essence, are the thirteen Kinderscenen (Scenes from Childhood), op. 15. He described them in a letter to Clara Wieck in March 1838, two years before their marriage, while they were still fighting parental disapproval: Whether it was an echo of what you said to me once, “that sometimes I seemed to you like a child,” anyhow I suddenly got an inspiration, and knocked off about thirty quaint little things, from which I have selected twelve [sic] and called them Kinderscenen. They will amuse you, but of course you must forget that you are a virtuoso. They have such titles as “Fürchtenmachen” [Bogeyman’s coming], “Am Kamin” [By the fireside], “Haschemann” [Catch me if you can], “Bittendes Kind” [Entreating child], “Ritter vom Steckenpferd” [Knight of the hobby-horse], “Von fremden Ländern” [Of foreign lands], “Kuriose Geschichte” [A strange story], etc., and I don’t know what besides. Well, they all explain themselves, and what’s more are as easy as possible. Unlike the later Album für die Jugend, which are written for children, Schumann said that the Kinderscenen are really addressed to adults, “reminiscences of an adult for adults.” Their unassuming front masks an incredible attention to detail, unity, and poetic content. They are connected not only by programmatic content, but by thematic unity: nearly all the pieces seem to stem from the thematic shape of the five-note opening of Von fremden Ländern und Menschen (Of foreign lands and people). Often the first ascending sixth is left out, leaving a four-note falling figure related to the “Clara motto” that Schumann often used in his compositions. Theorist Rudolph Reti went so far as to call the Kinderscenen a theme with variations, the “theme” comprising not only the opening figure of the first piece but two of its subsequent motives as well. While some of his conclusions stretch credibility to the limit, there is no doubt that the miniatures are bound together as a definite structural unit by more than their program. Each of the thirteen little pieces is a simple example of ternary or binary form. Schumann’s titles, whether added before or after the pieces’ completion (a matter of some discussion), are brought out in the music by a wealth of details. Bittendes Kind (Entreating child) is left still entreating by an unresolved chord (dominant seventh) at the close; the famous Träumerei (Reverie) compresses a whole world within the rise and fall of the opening four-bar phrase; Schumann chose the key of G-sharp minor to intensify Fast zu ernst (Almost too serious); Fürchtenmachen (Bogeyman’s coming) is illustrated by unexpected tempo changes and accents; Der Dichter spricht (The poet speaks), a typical Schumann epilogue, contains a “recitative” (a free unmetered declamation), and ends peacefully. It was perhaps this final piece that Schumann did not include in his original count of twelve, as it is not based on a simple child’s subject, but is rather the poet’s comment or reflection after the child has gone to sleep. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

PETER WASHINGTON, JAZZ BASS Perhaps the most recorded bassist of his generation, Peter Washington has also played an integral part in two of the most important and highly praised jazz trios of the last 20 years, in addition to a “who’s who” roster of jazz artists. Born in Los Angeles, California, in 1964, Washington attended the University of California, Berkeley, where he majored in English Literature and played in both the UC Symphony and the San Francisco Youth Symphony. In 1986, while performing in San Francisco with alto saxophonist John Handy, he was asked by Art Blakey to move to New York and join the seminal Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. Washington remained with the Jazz Messengers from 1986 to 1989, and during this time was able to establish himself as a ubiquitous, first- call freelance bassist; a position he has occupied to this day. In the early 1990’s Washington joined the Tommy Flanagan Trio , called by many “the greatest trio in jazz”, and remained until Flanagan’s death, in 2002. For the past ten years he has been a member of the very highly acclaimed Bill Charlap Trio. In addition to these long- term commitments Washington has worked and recorded with an extremely large number of top- tier artists, of all generations. A partial list of those he has recorded and performed “live” with would include Dizzy Gillespie, Benny Golson. Freddie Hubbard, Donald Byrd, Benny Carter, Hank Jones, Milt Jackson, Bobby Hutcherson, Kenny Burrell, Phil Woods, Cedar Walton, Joe Henderson, Ray Bryant, Frank Wess, Clark Terry, Lionel Hampton, Charles McPherson, Jimmy Heath, Percy Heath, Jimmy Cobb, Louis Hayes, the Newport All Stars, the Carnegie Hall Jazz Band, Gerald Wilson,Lou Donaldson, Barry Harris, Lew Tabakin, Sweets Edison, Johnny Griffin, Jackie McLean, Sir Simon Rattle and the Birmingham Symphony, Richard Wyands, Teddy Edwards, Johnny Coles, Frank Morgan, and more… Of the younger generations, Washington has recorded and performed with Mulgrew Miller, Tom Harrell, the Brecker Brothers, Don Grolnick, David Sanchez, Eric Alexander, Benny Green, Javon Jackson, Brian Lynch, David Hazeltine, One For All, Steve Nelson, James Carter, Renee Rosnes, Steve Turre, Regina Carter, Kenny Washington, Grant Stewart, Robin Eubanks, Joe Magnarelli, Geoff Keezer, Billy Drummond, Jeremy Pelt, Ryan Kisor, Walt Weisokopf, and many, many others. Peter Washington has also enjoyed associtions with vocalists as diverse as Andy Bey, Freddie Cole, Karrin Allyson, Chris Conner, Mark Murphy, Georgie Fame, Ernie Andrews, Paula West, Eric Comstock, Anne Hampton Calloway, Marlena Shaw, and Ernestine Anderson. A complete discography would list, as of this writing, over 350 recordings, and is expanded on a weekly and monthly basis. In the scope and breadth of his career thus far, his adaptability, and in his emphasis on creative, supportive, swiging time- playing as well as inventive and intelligent soloing, Washington has been compared to the likes of George Duvivier, Milt Hinton, and Ron Carter.

October 5, 2014 – Arnaud Sussmann, violin; Gilles Vonsattel, piano WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) Violin Sonata in E minor, K. 300c (K. 304) October 5, 2014 – Arnaud Sussmann, violin; Gilles Vonsattel, piano Mozart had written his father from Mannheim on October 6, 1777: “I send my sister herewith six duets for clavicembalo and violin by [Joseph] Schuster, which I have often played here. They are not bad. If I stay on I shall write six myself in the same style, as they are very popular here.” Mannheim flutist Johann Baptist Wendling also encouraged him to write “duets for piano and violin” to help make a living once he got to Paris. Of the seven sonatas resulting from these urges, he wrote five of them in Mannheim in early 1778 and two (including the E minor) in Paris in the early summer of that year. Six of these became known as the Palatine sonatas because Mozart dedicated them to Maria Elisabeth, wife of the Elector of Palatine, when they were published in November 1778 in Paris. The remaining Sonata in C major was included in a group of six published in 1781. Five of the Palatine Sonatas, including the present E minor, consist of only two movements, a configuration Mozart may have borrowed from Johann Christian Bach or Joseph Haydn—or possibly Schuster, whose six sonatas mentioned above unfortunately do not survive. The E minor Sonata, which many consider the greatest of the Palatine Sonatas, is one of only two chamber works with piano and strings in which Mozart employed a minor key (the other being the G minor Piano Quartet, K. 478). Many have suggested that this alternately dramatic and elegiac Sonata and the equally emotionally intense A minor Piano Sonata, K. 310, written around the same time, reflect personal loss—his beloved mother, who had traveled with him to Paris, died on July 3, 1778, after a brief illness. Or he may have been reacting to the enforced separation from his new-found love, Aloysia Weber, the young soprano who lived in Mannheim. Speculation must end there, however, because no one knows the precise dates of composition. The E minor Sonata’s dramatic unison opening leads to a harmonized presentation of the same melody. Each new idea in this movement contains a bit of something that went before, thus unifying the whole. The recapitulation begins with a dramatic reharmonization of the first theme that points to the Romantic world of Beethoven. The second and final movement is labeled “Tempo di Menuetto,” but it behaves more like a rondo, with two episodes interpolated between recurrences of the soulful minuet “refrain.” The first of these episodes offers a stylish sweetness and a piano flourish leading back to the minuet theme. The second, an extended section with two halves each repeated, begins with a soft chordal theme in the piano, and permits, in the words of the great Mozart scholar Alfred Einstein, “a brief glimpse of bliss.” © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

February 20, 2022 – Danbi Um, violin; Juho Pohjonen, piano ERICH WOLFGANG KORNGOLD (1897-1957) Suite from Much Ado about Nothing, op. 11 February 20, 2022 – Danbi Um, violin; Juho Pohjonen, piano Erich Wolfgang Korngold showed an incredible gift for composition at an early age. Upon hearing him play his cantata Gold in 1907, Gustav Mahler proclaimed him a genius and recommended that he study with Alexander Zemlinsky at the Vienna Conservatory. At age eleven he composed a ballet, Der Schneemann, that so impressed Zemlinsky that the latter orchestrated and produced it at the Vienna Court Theater in 1910 to sensational acclaim. Richard Strauss was deeply impressed by Korngold’s Schauspiel Ouvertüre (1911) and Sinfonietta (1912), as was Puccini by his opera Violanta (1916). The pinnacle of Korngold’s early career came at the age of twenty-three when his opera Die tote Stadt achieved international recognition. By 1928 a poll by the Neue Wiener Tagblatt considered Korngold and Schoenberg the greatest living composers. In 1934 director Max Reinhardt took Korngold to Hollywood where the second phase of his career began. There he composed some of the finest film scores ever written—nineteen in all, including such classics as Captain Blood (1935), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), and The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939); he became Hollywood’s highest paid composer at that time. Yet he was caught between two worlds and two eras. He was criticized in some quarters for selling out to Hollywood and for ignoring modern trends in music; in Hollywood he was criticized for writing scores that were too complex. Even while immersed in the film world he periodically composed works in other genres—the Violin Concerto (1937; 1945) has remained in the repertoire and has even enjoyed a surge in popularity beginning in the 1990s. Korngold’s incidental music for Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing was composed in 1919 for a production at the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna in 1920, thus it dates from the same period as his successful Die tote Stadt. Though scored originally for chamber orchestra, Korngold arranged Much Ado for violin and piano—he himself played the piano part—when the run of performances was extended but no orchestra was available. He also fashioned several suites from the incidental music—one for violin and piano, one for orchestra, and one for solo piano. The violin and piano Suite consists of four movements. The Maiden in the Bridal Chamber, a graceful ternary-form movement, depicts Hero, the bride-to-be, on her wedding morning, happily unaware that Claudio has been tricked into doubting her fidelity. Occasional “modern” harmonies enliven the prevailing Romantic language. The second movement—Dogberry and Verges. March of the Watch—constitutes a mock serious march to accompany Shakespeare’s Dogberry, the pompous constable who comically confuses words (“comparisons are odorous”), his crony Verges, and the other men of the watch, who protect the good citizens of Messina. Sudden rhythmic shifts that throw the march off kilter add to the humorous effect. The third movement, a slow, flowing waltz with Romantic modulations and sudden key shifts, accompanies an earlier “Scene in the Garden,” in which the plot unfolds to make the play’s other couple, Beatrice and Benedick, fall in love. The two targets, in turn concealed in the bushes, overhear different conversations meant for theirs ears each describing the love of one for the other. The “Masquerade” of the fourth movement actually occurs first in the events of the play described here. The second act begins with a masked ball, which provides a wonderful opportunity for word play between the confirmed bachelor Benedick and the sharp-tongued Beatrice. Korngold’s Hornpipe is a lively dance in rondo form, with a cheerful refrain containing delightful rhythmic shifts and episodes that include folk-like drones, brief touches of minor, and even a quick descending passage in whole tones. The piece ends with an unexpected humorous tag. By Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

November 12, 2023: Angel Blue, soprano; Bryan Wagorn, piano RICHARD STRAUSS (1864–1949) Songs November 12, 2023: Angel Blue, soprano; Bryan Wagorn, piano Strauss wrote songs all his life, from his first song, “Weinachtslied” (Christmas song), at the age of six, to his Four Last Songs, so-named by his publisher, which he composed at the age of eighty-four. Many of his more than 200 songs were written for soprano Pauline de Ahna who became his wife in 1894; the composer himself usually accompanied her on the piano. Some of his songs remain infrequently performed—often because of their difficulty—while others hold a firm place both in recital and in orchestrated versions by Strauss and others on symphonic programs. Strauss composed the four marvelous songs of Opus 27 in 1894 as his wedding present to Pauline. He had become interested in a group of poets—followers of Max Stirner and his socialist ideals—who had established themselves as a force against sentimental mid-nineteenth-century poets and against folk and mock-ancient poetry. Strauss was little interested in their politics, but latched onto their Romantic outpourings. Third in the set, “Heimliche Aufforderung” (Secret invitation) sets a text by Scottish-born but German-raised Stirner disciple, John Henry Mackay. His text is an ardent love song, sung during a tryst amid a crowd of merrymakers. The eager vocal line is accompanied by rippling figurations that change several times to a more static texture to reflect the text. A peaceful postlude follows the ecstatic appeal for night to fall. “Allerseelen” (All Soul’s Day) belongs to Strauss’s first set of published songs, Acht Gedichte aus Letzte Blätter von Hermann von Gilm (Eight Poems from Last Leaves by Hermann von Gilm), op. 10. He had come across the poems in an 1864 volume brought back from Innsbruck by his friend and composer Ludwig Thuille. Strauss composed the songs in 1885, dedicating them to Heinrich Vogl, principal tenor at the Munich Court Opera, who had expressed admiration for them to the young composer. “Allerseelen” (All Souls’ Day), which appears last in the Opus 10 collection, refers to November 2, the day when Western Christians commemorate those dear to them who have died. The poet of Strauss’s setting is longing for his departed love to return, tenderly wishing for things to be as they once were. The song shows the twenty-one-year-old’s lyrical and harmonic mastery, in this case unfolding in a through-composed form that becomes progressively more dramatic. Another of Strauss’s greatest songs, “Befreit” (Freed), third in the Opus 39 set of 1898, sets a text by controversial but now largely forgotten Expressionist poet Richard Dehmel, whose poems became popular for their rich symbolism of erotic love, beauty, art, and feeling. Though Dehmel professed that poetry should have many equally valid interpretations, he went so far as to publish a criticism of Strauss’s setting but without giving specifics about why he thought it “too soft-grained.” He did admit that even though he had envisioned a man’s parting with his dying wife, there are many kinds of farewells. The title “Befreit” represents the loving couple so freed from suffering that not even death is a threat. Strauss’s moving setting emphasizes the constancy of their love and acknowledges with his poignant setting of “O Glück!” at the end of each verse that happiness radiates even through sorrow. “Morgen!” (Tomorrow!), which concludes the Opus 27 group (see above), sets another romantic text by John Henry Mackay. Strauss fashioned a delicate, rapturous setting, begun by one of his most extended and engaging introductions. The song concludes in recitative style followed by a condensed reminder of the introduction. Strauss dashed off “Cäcilie” on September 9, 1894, the day before his wedding. In a nice parallel, he was setting a poem that had been written to honor the wife of the poet, Heinrich Hart. (The text is often misattributed to Heinrich’s brother Julius.) Strauss is said to have embellished the already full and virtuosic accompaniment when performing the song, so it comes as no surprise that he decided to orchestrate it in 1897. Strauss placed it second in the Opus 27 set (see above), but it makes a perfect concluding selection here as his most impassioned and ecstatic love song. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

October 18, 2009 – Rafael Figueroa, cello GASPAR CASSADÓ (1897-1966) Suite for Solo Cello October 18, 2009 – Rafael Figueroa, cello Gaspar Cassadó was one of the foremost cellists of the 20th Century. A musician of great versatility, he appeared regularly as a soloist with the world’s finest conductors and orchestras; performed chamber music with the most renowned musicians of the day; and produced a sizeable body of charming, well-crafted compositions and arrangements designed to showcase his own considerable talents as a cellist. His performance style and compositional oeuvre are often likened to those of the violinist Fritz Kreisler, who also wrote and performed his own concertos, showpieces, and charming recital encores that display the performer’s wit, agility, and lighter side. Born in Barcelona in 1897, Cassadó progressed quickly in his musical studies. In 1906 the emerging 21-year-old cellist Pablo Casals attended a performance by the nine-year-old prodigy and was so impressed that he invited him to become his first fulltime student. Cassadó eventually attained a scholarship from the city of Barcelona to move to Paris, where he studied for many years with Casals. Cassadó considered Casals to be his greatest musical influence and his “spiritual father.” While in Paris, Cassadó also pursued his studies in composition, working closely with such masters as Manuel de Falla and Maurice Ravel. Their stylistic influence can be heard in Cassadó’s 1926 Suite for Solo Cello, which was inspired by Casals’ legendary performances of the Bach cello suites. Up until the early 20th Century, Bach’s six cello suites were not widely known to the listening public; they were regarded as cello teaching material not quite suitable for general consumption. Casals radically altered that perception, performing them often and serving as their staunch advocate. His performances served as a catalyst for a vast outpouring of 20th Century solo cello works by major composers as diverse as Zoltán Kodály, Max Reger, Paul Hindemith, Benjamin Britten, George Crumb, and Gaspar Cassadó. Cassadó’s Suite for Solo Cello combines the Baroque formalism and dance orientation of Bach’s suites with his own native Spanish flair. The first movement begins, á la Bach, with a free preludium that evolves into a zarabanda, a dignified Spanish dance related to the Baroque sarabande. The movement quotes Zoltán Kodaly’s Sonata for Cello Solo and, reflecting Cassadó’s studies with Ravel, makes extensive use of the motive that begins the famous flute solo from the ballet Daphnis et Chloe. The second movement is written in the form of a two-part sardana. Beginning with a characteristicly slow, introductory section (in classic saradanas the first tirada was danced with the arms down), the music soon breaks into an animatedly rustic dance in 2/4 (the second tirada was usually danced with the arms up). The jauntily rhythmic flavor of the movement makes this the most overtly “danceable” of the three. Cassadó continues to honor antique Spanish folkdance styles by basing the final movement largely on the jota, a dance originally performed in colorful costumes and accompanied by castanets. The movement begins slowly with a ruminative intermezzo featuring lyrical, five-beat phrases. The intermezzo gradually gives way to the more vigorous, swinging jota. The movement alternates between the introspection of the intermezzo and the extroverted, flamenco-like jota, bringing the suite to a lively, Spanish-style conclusion. By Michael Parloff Return to Parlance Program Notes

May 6, 2018: Clara Neubauer, violin; Anne-Marie McDermott, piano ROBERT SCHUMANN (1810-1856) Sonata No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105 for violin and piano May 6, 2018: Clara Neubauer, violin; Anne-Marie McDermott, piano In August 1850 Schumann arrived in Düsseldorf amid great fanfare to take up the position of town music director. By the next season, however, problems had developed with management and musicians alike, augmented by his progressing mental illness. Nevertheless, he strove to improve the town’s musical life by organizing a small select group of singers and a short-lived ensemble of instrumentalists. Thus in the fall of 1851 he had vocal and instrumental chamber music on his mind. The time was now ripe to act on an 1850 request by Ferdinand David, concertmaster of the Gewandhaus Orchestra in Leipzig for a violin and piano piece. Schumann composed his first violin sonata—A minor, op. 105—between September 12 and 16, 1851, and after a pause to write the G minor Piano Trio, continued with a second—D minor, op. 121—between October 26 and November 2. Clara Schumann, her husband’s greatest champion and interpreter, immediately learned the piano part and played the first private performance of the A minor Violin Sonata on October 16 with Wilhelm Joseph von Wasielewski, Robert’s talented young concertmaster. She wrote in her diary: “We were particularly moved by the very elegiac first movement and the lovely second movement.” The third movement, she said, caused them some difficulties, and though they played it through three more times Wasielewski reported that they were unable to convey its “brusque tone” to the composer’s satisfaction. The first public performance took place on March 29 at the Leipzig Gewandhaus with David, who had first suggested such a work, and he received the dedication when Schumann published it in 1852. Clara continued to play the piece after her husband’s death, most often with the rising young star Joseph Joachim. Schumann’s first movement, designated “With passionate expression,” sets a mood of quiet unrest with the main theme beginning in the violin’s low, throaty range. Throughout the piano does not merely “arpeggiate,” but exhibits the distinctive multiple voices and textures that are quintessentially Schumann. A special feature of this movement is the masterful blurring of the border between development and recapitulation that became such a Romantic art. The Allegretto shows the intimate charm of many of Schumann’s piano miniatures. Twice he interrupts with contrasting episodes—the first in the contemplative manner of Eusebius, the introverted fictional character of his prose and musical writings, and the second à la Florestan, his happy, extroverted persona. The finale cavorts like a scherzo, but with a demonic cast, as opposed to the elfin scherzos characteristic of Schumann’s contemporary Mendelssohn. A wonderful major-mode middle episode imparts a lyrical warmth to offset the more “brusque” drive of the main theme. Toward the end Schumann shows his concern for unity across movements by reintroducing the low restless main theme of the first movement before the final fiendish push to the close. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

April 14, 2019: Anne Akiko Meyers, violin; Jason Vieaux, guitar MANUEL DE FALLA (1876-1946) Siete Canciones Populares Espanolas April 14, 2019: Anne Akiko Meyers, violin; Jason Vieaux, guitar In 1907 Spanish composer Manuel de Falla went to Paris, where he formed friendships with Debussy, Dukas, and Ravel that greatly influenced his career. At the time of the Paris production of his opera La vida breve in the winter of 1913–14, a Spanish singer in the cast asked Falla for advice about which Spanish songs she should include on a Paris recital. He decided to arrange some Spanish songs himself using his own system of harmony, which he had just tried out for the harmonization of a Greek folk song requested by a Greek singing teacher. This system stemmed from Falla’s study of Louis Lucas’s L’acoustique nouvelle , a mid-nineteenth-century treatise he had picked up as a young man in Madrid at an open-air book stall, and which was to influence his later style profoundly. It consisted of deriving harmonies from the natural resonance of a fundamental tone, that is, its overtones, then using these as new fundamental tones. Though Falla never lost sight of traditional harmony he claimed that this system, which anticipated harmonic theories of the twentieth century, revolutionized his entire conception of harmony. The composer completed the Siete canciones in Paris before the outbreak of World War I forced him to return to Madrid in 1914. Ironically, He did not permit the singer who had sought his advice to perform them on a Spanish-themed program in Paris because of a bad experience he himself had had performing on a similar Spanish program. The songs were first performed by Luisa Vela (who had just sung in the Madrid premiere of La vida breve ) accompanied by the composer in Madrid on January 14, 1915. The first Paris performance was delayed until May 1920. The songs are dedicated to Madame Ida Godebski, a great friend of Falla; Cipa and Ida Godebski’s famous salon in Paris was a gathering place for many other composers and writers including Roussel, Stravinsky, Ravel, Gide, Valéry, and Cocteau. Falla chose to set seven folk songs from various regions of Spain. García Matos, in his detailed study of Falla’s sources in the Madrid periodical Música in 1953, found that two of the songs closely follow the folk sources as to the tunes and texts, two were retouched slightly, one was modified slightly and expanded, one reworked considerably, and one was probably created from a combination of sources. The songs have been performed far and wide in all manner of arrangements, often titled Suite populaire espagnole . Ernesto Halffter, student and friend of Falla, orchestrated the accompaniment, and subsequent adaptations have appeared for various instruments, notably a well-known arrangement for violin and piano by famous Polish violinist Paweł Kochański. (No. 2 is omitted in the violin arrangement and its offshoots, as is No. 1 in the arrangements for guitar; various order changes are also common.) “Asturiana” takes the listener to the North of Spain for a peaceful lament. The passionate “Jota” takes the name of one of the most widely known Spanish song and dance forms, associated with the region of Aragon. Falla employs the characteristic alternation of sections of rapid accompaniment in 3/8 meter with those in a slower tempo for the melody line. “Nana” is a lullaby, which Falla said he heard as a child from “his mother’s lips before he was old enough to think.” The tune stems from Andalusia, and as such differs from other Spanish cradle songs because, according to the composer, much Andalusian vocal music originated in India. The geographical origin of the “Canción” is uncertain, although Falla followed the popular theme fairly faithfully according to Matos. At the end a canon between the voice (violin in this case) and the accompaniment provides textural interest. The last song, “Polo,” of Andalusian origin, reflects the flamenco or Gypsy world. The original piano accompaniment evokes the guitar’s punteado style—returned here to its source of inspiration—and the accents represent palmadas (hand-clapping) by the spectators. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

January 19, 2020: Paul Lewis, piano LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) Fantasia in G minor, Op. 77 January 19, 2020: Paul Lewis, piano Beethoven was miserable during the summer of 1809 owing to Napoleon’s invasion and occupation of Vienna. The composer wrote of this time: We have passed through a great deal of misery. . . . Since May 4th, I have brought into the world little that is connected; only here and there a fragment. The whole course of events has affected me body and soul. . . . What a disturbing, wild life around me; nothing but drums, cannons, men, misery of all sorts. The noise and confusion was especially hard to bear because the court and most of his friends had fled the city, communication was disrupted, and he was unable to spend his customary sojourn in the countryside where his creativity was always rejuvenated. Despite his mood and intermittent inability to write anything “connected,” he composed an impressive number of works during the invasion year: the Fifth Piano Concerto, the Harp Quartet, three piano sonatas (opp. 78, 79, and 81a), several lieder, and a number of miscellaneous pieces, among them the present Fantasia, op. 77. Though Beethoven may have begun writing down the Fantasia during this trying time, he may have actually conceived it in December 1808 for the same concert on which he premiered his Choral Fantasy , which begins with a grand piano introduction in improvisatory style. The solo “Fantasia” that he extemporized on that concert might well have been some form of the present work. In any case, he completed the Fantasia in October, after the armistice was signed and presumably during or following a stay in Hungary with his good friends the Brunsviks—Count Franz, who received the dedication, and his sister Therese. Billed in G minor, the remarkably free-ranging Fantasia touches on that key—never to return—with a cascading scale figure and somber chordal phrase. Repeating the gestures in an unrelated key, Beethoven moves on through a kaleidoscopic array of keys and thematic gestures, eventually settling sweetly in the distant key of B major. He then proposes a simple eight-measure theme in that key and treats it to seven variations before a broad coda reintroduces harmonic uncertainty—even a sweet variant of the theme in C major! The boisterous cascade and subdued chordal gesture of the opening return to settle his main B major key once and for all, to which he adds a comical sign-off. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

December 13, 2015 – Kristin Lee, violin; Paul Watkins, cello; Gilles Vonsattel, piano LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) Piano Trio in D major, op. 70, no. 1, “Ghost” December 13, 2015 – Kristin Lee, violin; Paul Watkins, cello; Gilles Vonsattel, piano In the fall of 1808 when Beethoven began writing his two Piano Trios, op. 70, he was living in rooms generously furnished to him by Countess Marie Erdödy. (For more background about their relationship see the notes for the Cello Sonata above.) Beethoven participated in the first performance of the Opus 70 Trios at Countess Erdödy’s home around Christmas in 1808, and sent them off to his publisher with a dedication to her. At one point he changed his mind and wished to dedicate them to Archduke Rudolph, but in the end let the dedication to the Countess stand. It had been ten years since Beethoven had composed his Opus 11 Trio for clarinet (or violin), cello, and piano, and twelve years since he had composed his last major works in the piano trio genre—his three Opus 1 Trios, which had served as his public entrée. By 1808 he was at the pinnacle of his productivity and popularity, and the Opus 70 Trios are surrounded by the masterpieces he presented on that famous marathon concert in December 1808—the Fifth and Sixth Symphonies, the C major Mass, the Choral Fantasy —and equally important works such as his Coriolan Overture and A major Cello Sonata. The first of the Opus 70 Trios came to be called the “Ghost” because of a comment made after Beethoven’s death about the amazing slow movement. Carl Czerny, Beethoven’s former pupil, wrote in 1842 that the Largo assai ed espressivo “resembles an appearance from the underworld. One could think not inappropriately of the first appearance of the ghost in Hamlet.” The nickname stuck for the entire Trio, and only afterwards it was discovered that Beethoven may have had something supernatural on his mind, because sketches for this movement appear near those for a Witches’ Chorus for a projected Macbeth opera. The forthright unison opening of the first movement sounds almost as if Beethoven derived it from the first movement of the his Piano Sonata, op. 10, no. 3, and injected it with new energy. He contrasts this immediately with a sweeter phrase begun by the cello. Beethoven allows himself an expansive development section with quite a bit of counterpoint after his extremely concise exposition. The tranquil coda relies on his sweet second phrase until a bright recall of the opening idea ends the movement. The celebrated “Ghost” movement is one of those marvels that fired the Romantic imagination with its alternating-repeating fragments, plaintive melodic lines, sudden contrasts, agitated tremolos, unsettled harmonies (diminished seventh chords), and above all the eerie floating descents of the piano right hand and rumbling bass notes in the left. As with many of Beethoven’s most startlingly original movements, the overall sonorities mask the quite traditional aspects of his structure, in this case a simple three-part form with coda. Beethoven opted to return to a three-movement format for this Trio, and hence there is no scherzo. The sonata-form finale returns to the light of day, with a cheerful main theme that keeps halting and digressing. This good-natured meandering flows so naturally that occasional harmonic surprises are swept right along without ceremony. Just before the conclusion, a clever diversion with pizzicato effects, seamless splitting of the melody between the two strings, and piano right-hand glitter gives added urgency to the cadential flourish. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

2023-2024 SEASON Dear friends, Welcome to the 16th season of Parlance Chamber Concerts! A stellar array of artists will grace our stage in 2023-24. Among the many highlights will be a recital by the MET’s luminous star soprano, Angel Blue ; a musical visit to the 16th Century with legendary viola da gambist-conductor Jordi Savall and his early music ensemble, Hespèrion XXI ; and the long-awaited return of pianist Richard Goode performing late piano masterpieces by Beethoven . A spellbinding evening, “Candlelit Music of the Spirit ,” will feature international solo violinist Stefan Jackiw , with renowned clarinetist Anthony McGill, cellist Nicholas Canellakis and pianist Michael Stephen Brown . Their evocative program will culminate with Oliver Messiaen’s Quartet for the End of Time , one of the 20th Century’s most spiritually transcendent works. The passionate young Lysander Piano Trio and Munich-based Goldmund String Quartet will make their Parlance debuts, as will the celebrated chamber choir, Antioch Chamber Ensemble . The virtuoso singing group will join forces with the venerable Brentano String Quartet in program including English Madrigals, Mozart’s Ave Verum Corpus , and the World Premiere of Memory Believes for string quartet and chamber choir by esteemed American composer Bruce Adolphe . Don’t miss our musical celebration of Mothers Day with acclaimed violinist Chee-Yun , pianistic power couple, Alessio Bax and Lucille Chung , and MET Orchestra principal hornist Brad Gemeinhardt . They will collaborate on an assortment of tender-hearted pieces inspired by motherhood and children. The season will conclude joyously with two of Mozart’s most beloved pieces, his Concerto for Flute and Harp featuring MET Orchestra principals, flutist Seth Morris and harpist Mariko Anraku , and the magnificent Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364 , spotlighting the father-son team of violist Paul Neubauer and violinist Oliver Neubauer . PCC’s Artistic Director, Michael Parloff, will conduct members of the MET Orchestra. I look forward to seeing you again soon at Parlance Chamber Concerts! Michael Parloff 2023-2024 SEASON October 15, 2023 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