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- Sonata No. 1 in F Minor, Op. 65, Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847)
January 19, 2025: THE VIRTUOSO ORGANIST PAUL JACOBS, ORGAN Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) Sonata No. 1 in F Minor, Op. 65 January 19, 2025: THE VIRTUOSO ORGANIST PAUL JACOBS, ORGAN One of the most accomplished organists of his day, Mendelssohn had begun studying organ at the age of eleven with August Wilhelm Bach (not a descendent of J. S. Bach). This was in addition to his lessons in piano, violin, drawing, painting, Latin and Greek (and other languages), music theory, and general studies, as well as gymnastics, swimming, horseback riding, dancing, and chess—all of which showed his prodigious talents. A few of Mendelssohn’s great organ highlights include improvising on the St. Paul’s Cathedral organ when he was in London in 1833 to premiere his Italian Symphony and in 1837 completing his three organ Preludes and Fugues, op. 37. He performed organ works by Bach at the Birmingham Festival, when he also premiered his Piano Concerto No. 2 and conducted a performance of his oratorio St. Paul . Then in 1840 he gave a challenging concert of Bach’s organ works at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig to raise funds for a new Bach monument. He also began drafting the pieces that would become the six Organ Sonatas, op 65. He completed the first in F minor on December 28, 1844, and the other five by January 1845. Mendelssohn wrote to the publisher Coventry that he considered these sonatas a “kind of Organ-school” and to Breitkopf & Härtel that they represented his personal way of handling the organ. They are all very representative of his adoration of Bach in their use of chorales and fugues. At the same time, in their varied movements, they show Mendelssohn’s interest in contemporary styles of writing, such as song and Lieder ohne Worte (songs without words), while eschewing the usual sonata forms and also refecting his penchant for improvisation. Sonata No. 1 unfolds in four innovative movements—the first full of contrasts including an exordium for full organ, a fugato over organ pedal point, the calm introduction of the chorale Was mein Gott will, das ich g’scheh allzeit alternating with strains of a fugue, the fugue in mirror inversion, the mirror combined with the original, and finally a return to the chorale. The unusual form may have been inspired by a recitative in the same key in Bach’s St. Matthew Passion (No. 25), in which Jesus’ agitated utterances alternate with a chorale. The second movement sounds like a song without words, the third like a recitative, and the fourth a fantasia-like movement with virtuosic toccata elements that may have arisen in Mendelssohn’s imaginative improvisations at the organ. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes
- Violin Sonata in A major, M. 8, CÉSAR FRANCK (1822-1890)
November 15, 2015 – Jeremy Denk, piano; Stefan Jackiw, violin CÉSAR FRANCK (1822-1890) Violin Sonata in A major, M. 8 November 15, 2015 – Jeremy Denk, piano; Stefan Jackiw, violin César Franck, organist at St. Clothilde and professor of organ at the Paris Conservatory, influenced a generation of composers including d’Indy, Chausson, Duparc, and Vierne, yet was not prolific himself as a composer. He was a late achiever par excellence: he completed his only Symphony when he was sixty-six, and he composed his memorable chamber works, the Piano Quintet and Violin Sonata, just several years before, with the String Quartet closely following the Symphony. There is no telling what he might have achieved had he not died in 1890 at age sixty-seven. Franck’s concern for thematic unity led to the use of what his disciple and enthusiastic champion Vincent d’Indy called the “cyclic” principle—the use of similar thematic material in two or more movements in the same work. D’Indy related Franck’s cyclic procedures to Beethoven, who may have been his inspiration, but Franck’s structural ideas have much more in common with those of Liszt and his practice of deriving an entire work from one musical idea. The opening theme begins with a three-note “generating cell,” as d’Indy called it, that permeates the work. Almost immediately Franck shows his penchant for changing keys. As a teacher of organ, with composition mixed in, Franck grew uneasy when any student remained too long in one key—“Modulate, modulate!” he would urge, which was known to exasperate Debussy, who studied briefly in his class. Formally the first movement is based on this and another main theme that occurs only in piano interludes; the subjects alternate while passing through myriad keys. The presentation of the thematic material in this fashion and the lack of development give the movement the feel either of a prologue or of an inner movement. Originally Franck had conceived the movement in a slow tempo, but changed it to Allegretto after hearing it played by violin virtuoso Eugène Ysaÿe, to whom the work is dedicated. Full-fledged sonata form is saved for the second movement, which employs a bit of the generating cell and also introduces another theme that will return in the finale. The brilliance of this Allegro movement contrasts nicely with the poetic first movement and with the rhapsodic third movement. This Recitativo-Fantasia sounds improvisatory at the outset as Franck ruminates upon the generating cell. The final Fantasia section is dominated by another theme that will reappear in the finale and ends with an unexpected harmonic turn. The finale is remarkable for the exact imitation between the violin and piano—one of the famous examples of canonic writing in the literature—which appears four times like a rondo refrain. The intervening episodes are based on the materials of the previous movements. The Sonata was apparently given as a wedding present to Ysaÿe, who first performed it with pianist Léontine Bordes-Pène as the last work on an all-Franck concert at the Musée Moderne de Peinture in Brussels on December 16, 1886. D’Indy described that memorable late afternoon performance: It was already growing dark as the Sonata began. After the first Allegretto, the players could hardly read their music. Unfortunately, museum regulations forbade any artificial light whatever in rooms containing paintings; the mere striking of a match would have been an offense. The audience was about to be asked to leave, but, brimful with enthusiasm, they refused to budge. At this point, Ysaÿe struck his music stand with his bow, demanding, “Let’s go on!” Then, wonder of wonders, amid darkness that now rendered them virtually invisible, the two artists played the last three movements from memory with a fire and passion the more astonishing in that there was a total lack of the usual visible externals that enhance a concert performance. Music, wondrous and alone, held sovereign sway in the blackness of night. The miracle will never be forgotten by those present. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes
- Allegretto WoO 39, LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827)
December 4, 2022 – The Sitkovetsky Trio LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) Allegretto WoO 39 December 4, 2022 – The Sitkovetsky Trio Beethoven made his final statement in the piano trio genre with this single-movement Allegretto in B-flat major. He inscribed his manuscript score: “Vienna, June 26, 1812: for my little friend Maxe Brentano, to encourage her in her piano playing.” Maximiliane Brentano was the ten-year-old daughter of Beethoven’s dear friends Antonie and Franz Brentano. The composer even included his own suggestions for fingerings to aid his little friend. If Maynard Solomon’s convincing evidence is accepted, Maxe’s mother Antonie was Beethoven’s “Immortal Beloved,” the woman to whom Beethoven wrote his famous letter less than two weeks after completing the little Trio. With great anguish, Beethoven nobly resolved not to accept the high-society married woman’s offer to leave her husband, thereby preserving—if we adopt Solomon’s reasoning—his friendship with the family. Nine years later he dedicated his wonderful Piano Sonata in E major, op. 109, to Maximiliane, who must have kept up her piano studies. The sonata-form Allegretto contrasts a busy, cheerful main theme, played by the piano to chordal string accompaniment, with a simple second theme marked by a characteristic dotted rhythm that is echoed alternately by the strings. The development takes an excursion to D major, which Beethoven even notates in the key signature. The slightly varied recapitulation leads to a relatively substantial coda, which comes to a sprightly conclusion. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes
- Concert for Violin, Piano, and String Quartet in D major, op. 21, ERNEST CHAUSSON (1855-1899)
September 23, 2018: Arnaud Sussmann, solo violin; Michael Brown, piano; Sean Lee, violin; Emily Smith, violin; Matt Lipman, viola; Nick Canellakis, cello ERNEST CHAUSSON (1855-1899) Concert for Violin, Piano, and String Quartet in D major, op. 21 September 23, 2018: Arnaud Sussmann, solo violin; Michael Brown, piano; Sean Lee, violin; Emily Smith, violin; Matt Lipman, viola; Nick Canellakis, cello Chausson is one of an illustrious group of composers who initially studied to be something else. Berlioz studied medicine, Vivaldi trained for the priesthood, Telemann, Rameau, Handel, Schumann, Tchaikovsky, and Stravinsky all studied law, and so on. Chausson had to earn a law degree and license to satisfy his father. He had, nonetheless, been nurtured in music, painting, and literature by his wealthy parents and by the tutor they engaged for him, and he became acquainted with many of the most important artists of the day. He was twenty-five by the time he had finished his law studies and decided that of all the arts, music attracted him most. He then entered the Paris Conservatory, where César Franck became his most influential teacher. Because of his late start and untimely death at forty-four from a bicycle accident, Chausson had only a short composing career. His achievements were notable, however; his most successful compositions are probably his Poème for violin and orchestra, various songs, and the present Concert, op. 21. Written between 1889 and 1891, the Concert is unique in the chamber music repertoire—scored for solo piano and violin with string quartet. Chausson entitled it Concert (French for concerto) rather than “Sextet,” but it lies somewhere between a double concerto, in which the two solo instruments are pitted against an entire orchestra, and a sextet, in which all the instruments are more or less equal. The opening three-note motive of the introduction is the germinating cell of the first movement, which unfolds in full-fledged Romantic sonata form. The second movement is a brief intimate Sicilienne in A minor. The composer Vincent d’Indy, who arranged for the work’s premiere, described it as like “the gardens where bloom the charming fancies of a Gabriel Fauré.” Chausson is at his most brooding and chromatic in the third movement marked Grave. D’Indy remarked that the finale is “somewhat oddly conceived, and partakes rather of the nature of variation form than of one of the forms regularly employed in the sonata.” Yet it is like a rondo in many respects: the animated main theme regularly returns (albeit varied), and material of episodic nature intervenes, including material from the previous movements (second theme of the Grave). Franck’s influence on Chausson surfaces in the work’s cyclical form, modulatory procedures, and expressive lyricism. The Concert is dedicated, as is the Poème, to Eugène Ysaÿe, who played the solo violin part in the premiere in Brussels on March 4, 1892. The Crickboom Quartet played the remaining string parts, and Auguste Pierret was the pianist who saved the day when the originally scheduled pianist suddenly returned the score as too difficult. (Chausson dedicated his next chamber work, the Piano Quartet, op. 30, to Pierret in gratitude for his fine performance.) Chausson, a composer continually plagued by self doubt, was thrilled at the instant success of the Concert, which now occupies a permanent place in the chamber music repertoire. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes
- Sinfonia Concertante for Violin and Viola, K. 364, WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791)
June 2, 2024: Mozart’s Double Concertos WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) Sinfonia Concertante for Violin and Viola, K. 364 June 2, 2024: Mozart’s Double Concertos Scarcely anything is known about the circumstances surrounding the composition of Mozart’s glorious Sinfonia concertante for violin and viola. In the voluminous Mozart correspondence there is no mention of any impending occasion, soloists for whom it was written, or performances that took place. The work was almost certainly completed in the summer of 1779 while Mozart was in Salzburg, having recently returned from a trip to Mannheim and Paris. No dated autograph source survives for scholarly reference, only a sketch of part of the first movement and some cadenza material. Modern editions must rely principally upon the first edition published in 1801 by Johann André. Many have guessed that Mozart had himself in mind as the viola soloist. He had switched allegiance from the violin during this Salzburg period, much to his father Leopold’s chagrin. One can only be thankful that the circumstances did arise for Mozart to compose this glorious work, which the great Mozart scholar Alfred Einstein went so far as to call “Mozart’s crowning achievement in the field of the violin concerto.” Though the Sinfonia concertante is scored like many earlier concertos for strings with oboes and horns, the orchestral writing is much richer. There are many passages for divided violas, extensive separation of the cello and bass parts, and the inclusion of the soloists in the many of the orchestral tuttis (ensemble sections). Furthermore, Mozart originally required the solo viola to be tuned a half-step higher than normal, to give it a brightness that made it stand out from the orchestral violas. Thus, though the work is in E-flat, the solo viola part was notated in D major. (Nowadays, however, the violist often elects to perform the solo part without this scordatura, or unusual tuning.) Mozart’s use of the marking maestoso (majestic) was infrequent; it colors the whole sonority of the first movement. Other unusual features of this sonata form movement are the use of a long, thrilling crescendo known as a “Mannheim crescendo”—used by Mozart in the Figaro Overture but seldom elsewhere—and the eloquent semi-recitatives that open the development. The poignant slow movement is in the older sonata form in which the second part closely follows the material of the first, except for the traditional alterations in the harmonic scheme; this framework was closer to a binary than ternary form. Each successive antiphonal phrase of the soloists seems to outdo the previous in expressiveness. For his Presto finale Mozart employed a sonata rondo without a development—or if there is a development, it lasts only four measures after which an exact recapitulation begins. Here the soloists enter with the main theme in the subdominant, a rare device for Mozart, but one later favored by Schubert. This coupled with other unexpected events, such as the very first entrance of the soloists, contribute to an exhilarating movement rich in inventiveness. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes
- LIABILITY WAIVER | PCC
LIABILITY WAIVER Parlance Chamber Concerts’s Covid-19 Liability Waiver Parlance Chamber Concerts is committed to the health and safety of our audience members, performers, and staff. While we are taking measures to protect our attendees, artists, volunteers, and employees, the risk of contracting Covid-19 and other contagious diseases may exist in any public space. To protect Parlance Chamber Concert’s ability to continue presenting public events, I agree: By purchasing tickets and entering Parlance Chamber Concerts’s performance venue (West Side Presbyterian Church), I will comply with all policies, guidelines, and preventive measures implemented by Parlance Chamber Concerts to reduce the spread of COVID-19. Parlance Chamber Concerts cannot guarantee that I will not be exposed to and contract COVID-19 or other contagious diseases, and all those entering our performance venue do so at their own risk. I accept the risk of being exposed to, contracting, or spreading COVID-19 or other contagious diseases along with all consequential damages. I waive any right to bring any claims, including but not limited to claims of negligence. Masking is encouraged but optional and proof of vaccination is no longer required for admittance to Parlance Chamber Concerts’s events.
- Trio in B Major, Op. 8, for violin, cello, and piano, JOHANNES BRAHMS (1833-1897)
October 18, 2009 – David Chan, violin; Jeewon Park, piano, Rafael Figueroa, cello JOHANNES BRAHMS (1833-1897) Trio in B Major, Op. 8, for violin, cello, and piano October 18, 2009 – David Chan, violin; Jeewon Park, piano, Rafael Figueroa, cello Johannes Brahms’ Piano Trio, Opus 8, is in many respects a paradoxical work. Progressing from a radiant B major to a tragic B minor, the piece juxtaposes passages of luxurious warmth and optimism and music of turbulence and despair. It is also, in the version heard most often today, simultaneously one of Brahms’ earliest and latest works. He had already started composing the trio in 1853, when the great Hungarian violinist Joseph Joachim gave the 20-year-old Brahms a letter of introduction to Robert and Clara Schumann. Brahms’ meeting with the Schumanns at their Düsseldorf home marked an important turning point in his life and career. The Schumanns received him with enormous enthusiasm and generosity. They invited him to stay with them for several weeks, initiating a close friendship that would last for the rest of their lives. Schumann wrote glowingly about the younger composer in his influential journal The New Leipzig Musical Times, and he introduced Brahms to the head of the prominent music publishing firm Breitkopf & Härtel. This greatly enhanced Brahms’ prospects for a successful composing career. The following February, while still working on the trio, Brahms received the distressing news of Robert Schumann’s suicide attempt. He hastened back to Düsseldorf to comfort the Schumann family. It was under those dark circumstances that he completed the piece later that year. Perhaps this brush with tragedy associated with his mentor altered the emotional trajectory of the work, diverting it from its luminous B-major beginning and setting on the course towards its stormy B-minor conclusion. Toward the end of his life Brahms, now the most respected of living composers, changed music publishers. Fritz Simrock bought the rights to all of Brahms’ works from Breitkopf & Härtel for the purpose of publishing them in a new edition. Simrock offered Brahms the opportunity to revise some of his earliest works for the release of the new edition. Brahms, ever the perfectionist – he had burned his first twenty string quartets and postponed composing his first symphony until his mid-40s – decided to revisit his 35-year-old trio, Op. 8. After performing the new version in 1890, Brahms wrote to a friend, saying, “Do you still remember the B major trio from our early days, and wouldn’t you be curious to hear it now, as I have (instead of placing a wig on it!) taken the hair and combed and ordered it a bit…?” This was quite an understatement. In fact, he had shortened the overall length of the work by a third, substantially rewriting the middle sections of the first, third, and fourth movements. Only the Scherzo remained essentially unchanged from its original version. The final work seamlessly blends the impetuosity and passion of his youth with the technical assurance and architectural mastery of his maturity. The first movement begins like a cello sonata, unleashing a glorious cello melody that continues for 23 measures before it is finally joined by the violin. The atmosphere of the movement is wise and reassuring, demonstrating that, even at an early age, his musical sensibilities were already well-formed and recognizably “Brahmsian.” The Scherzo begins in a stealthily portentous B minor. Compressed staccato phrases are interwoven with longer thematic threads that foreshadow surprises ahead. Sudden fortissimo outbursts crash through the texture, dissolving into delicate piano filigree and quiet passagework in the strings. The contrasting trio introduces a melody of expansive warmth and maturity. The third movement alternates between solemn piano and string chorales, eventually blending the two into a sustained, meditative texture. The music then gives way to a long-lined, soulful cello solo. The solemn chorale textures return toward the end of the movement, now accompanied by ethereal ornaments in the right hand of the piano. The final movement is a musical battle between hope and despair. A quietly agitated opening explodes into major-key passages of great exuberance and exultation. Finally, though, the music retreats back into agitation and concern, and the trio concludes in a burst of stormy, B-minor turbulence. By Michael Parloff Return to Parlance Program Notes
- Fantasia in G minor, Op. 77, LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827)
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
- Cinq mélodies populaires grecques, MAURICE RAVEL (1875-1937)
March 29, 2015 – Matthew Polenzani, tenor; Ken Noda, piano MAURICE RAVEL (1875-1937) Cinq mélodies populaires grecques March 29, 2015 – Matthew Polenzani, tenor; Ken Noda, piano Early in 1904 French musicologist and philologist Pierre Aubry was preparing a lecture on Greek and Armenian folklore entitled “Songs of the Oppressed,” and he asked Greek-born fellow musicologist and critic Michel-Dimitri Calvocoressi to provide some examples from Greece. Singer Louise Thomasset agreed to perform them on short notice, but only with piano accompaniment, so Calvocoressi enlisted the help of his longtime friend Ravel. They selected five folk songs—four out of Pericles Matsa’s Chansons (Constantinople, 1883) and the fifth, “Les cueilleuses de lentisques,” from a Hubert Pernot collection entitled Chansons populaires de l’le de Chio. Ravel came up with the accompaniments in only thirty-six hours—his first foray into folk settings—and the lecture-demonstration duly took place on February 20 at the Sorbonne. The following year Ravel decided that three of the songs were “too brief,” so he arranged three others from the Pernot collection, which together with two of the originals, “Quel galant” and “Chanson des cueilleuses,” now make up his Cinq mélodies populaires grecques. On April 28, 1906, Calvocoressi presented a recital on popular Greek song, on which Marguerite Babaïan gave the first performance of the set in its new configuration. These songs were the first of Ravel’s piece to be accepted by prestigious music publisher Durand, who wished to be granted first option on all of his subsequent works. Ravel left his stamp on these accompaniments with their chromatic inflections and reinterpretations of modes, but without destroying their original flavor. “Chanson de la mariée” (Song of the bride) is a lively wake-up call for a bride on her wedding day. Ravel accentuates the modal tune (Phrygian) with his chromatic harmonies, and uses rapid-fire repeated notes to generate excitement. “Là-bas, vers l’église” (There by the church) takes up the same mode, but in gentle, serious reflection on those buried in the cemetery, replete with softly chiming “bells.” “Quel galant m’est comparable” (What gallant compares with me?) begins in a boastful proclamation, takes up a dancelike strut, then indulges in a moment of tenderness, before a brief return to the dance. In “Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisques” (Song of the Lentisk Gatherers) Ravel keeps his setting simple, with floating harmonies and occasional spun-out elebortion for the voice alone. “Tout gai” (All Gay!) cavorts happily in the major mode with no chromatic inflections. Ravel’s alternating-hand patterns provide lively interest to the ebullient “Tra-la-las.” © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes
- Concert DECEMBER 3, 2023 | PCC
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 3, 2023 AT 4 PM MEMORY BELIEVES BRENTANO STRING QUARTET ANTIOCH CHAMBER ENSEMBLE Brentano String Quartet Antioch Chamber Ensemble ”The Brentano String Quartet, by now well established in the international pantheon, offers performances both fiercely intelligent and expressively pristine." — The New Yorker “The Antioch Chamber Ensemble performed with clarity of tone and intonation so pure that you could hear the buzz of overtones… — New York Times ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS The celebrated Brentano String Quartet and the Antioch Chamber Ensemble Choir will join forces for a moving and eclectic program featuring the World Premiere of Bruce Adolphe’s Memory Believes (a requiem) , written in honor of the composer’s brother, artist Jonathan Adolphe. The event will also include Beethoven’s otherworldly Cavatina from his 13th string Quartet, a selection of favorite English Madrigals , and Mozart’s exquisite motet, Ave Verum Corpus for choir and strings, written less than six months before the composer’s death in 1791. 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 About Composer Bruce Adolphe Composer, author, lecturer, and performer Bruce Adolphe — known to millions of Americans from his public radio show Piano Puzzlers, which has been broadcast weekly on Performance Today since 2002 — has created a substantial body of chamber music and orchestral works inspired by science, visual arts, and human rights. Over the past 30-plus years, Mr. Adolphe has served as composer-in-residence at many festivals and institutions throughout the United States. A key figure at the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center since 1992, he is the Society’s resident lecturer, has appeared as a commentator on Live From Lincoln Center television, and has lectured at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. As an author, Mr. Adolphe's books include The Mind's Ear: Exercises for Improving the Musical Imagination for Performers, Composers, and Listeners (Oxford, third ed. 2021) and Visions and Decisions: Imagination and Technique in Music Composition (Cambridge, 2023). PROGRAM Bruce Adolphe Memory Believes (a requiem) for string quartet and chamber choir (World Premiere) Program Notes Beethoven Cavatina from String Quartet in B-flat, Op. 130 Program Notes English Madrigals John Bennet: All Creatures Now William Byrd: Though Amaryllis Dance Thomas Weelkes: Hark, All Ye Lovely Saints Thomas Tomkins: Adieu, Ye City-Prisoning Towers John Wilbye: Draw on Sweet Night Thomas Morley: Fyre, Fyre! Program Notes Mozart Ave Verum Corpus for chamber choir and string quartet Program Notes Watch the Antioch Chamber Ensemble Choir perform Matthew Brown’s Sitvit Anima: Watch the Brentano String Quartet perform the finale of Beethoven’s 16th String Quartet. Op. 135
- Concert September 14, 2025 | PCC
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2025 AT 4 PM “SINGERS” FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA BRAD GEMEINHARDT, HORN WILLIAM SHORT, BASSOON ANTON RIST, CLARINET MUSICIANS FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA MICHAEL PARLOFF, CONDUCTOR BRAD GEMEINHARDT , HORN ANTON RIST , CLARINET WILLIAM SHORT , BASSOON MICHAEL PARLOFF , CONDUCTOR 2025-2026 SEASON September 14, 2025 “Singers” from the Met Orchestra October 12, 2025 Lawrence Brownlee, tenor November 2, 2025 Benjamin Appl, baritone; James Baillieu, piano December 7, 2025 The Tallis Scholars January 18, 2026 Benjamin Beilman, violin; Jonathan Swenson, cello; Orion Weiss, piano February 22, 2026 Radu Ratoi, accordion March 8, 2026 Jonathan Biss, piano April 26, 2026 Jerusalem String Quartet May 17, 2026 Chee-Yun, violin; Sterling Elliott, cello; Henry Kramer, piano 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 Musicians from the Met Orchestra Michael Parloff, conductor Benjamin Bowman, concertmaster Bruno Eicher violin Wen Qian, violin Sarah Vonsattel, violin Katherine Fong. violin Ming-Feng Hsin, violin Milan Milisavljević, viola Dov Scheindlin, viola Joel Noyes, cello Kari Docter, cello Leigh Mesh, bass Seth Morris, flute Lauren Scanio, flute Elaine Douvas, oboe Joseph Jordan, oboe Anton Rist, clarinet William Short, bassoon , Jensen Bocco, bassoon, Brad Gemeinhardt, horn Javier Gandara, horn Anne Scharer, horn ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS “SINGERS” FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA The members of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra spend their careers listening to and collaborating with the world’s greatest singers. As a result, a vocal sensibility — lyrical, expressive, and flexible — deeply informs their approach to phrasing and musical line. Parlance Chamber Concerts’ Opening Concert will feature three of the Met’s principal instrumental "singers,” hornist Brad Gemeinhardt, bassoonist William Short, and clarinetist Anton Rist , performing some of Mozart’s greatest wind concertos with colleagues from the Met Orchestra, conducted by Artistic Director Michael Parloff. The program will also include Haydn’s Symphony No. 6, “Le Matin,” designed to showcase the artistry of the virtuoso musicians in his handpicked orchestra at the court of Prince Paul Anton Esterházy. PROGRAM W.A. Mozart: Horn Concerto No. 4 in E-flat, K. 495 Program Notes Joseph Haydn: Symphony No. 6 in D, Hob. 1/6 (“The Morning”) Program Notes INTERMISSION W.A. Mozart: Bassoon Concerto in B-flat, K. 191 Program Notes W.A. Mozart: Clarinet Concerto in A, K. 622 Program Notes Watch Members of the MET Orchestra perform Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364: Watch Hornist Brad Gemeinhardt perform Brahms’s Horn Trio, Op. 66:
- The Seven Last Words of Christ for string quartet, JOSEPH HAYDN (1732-1809)
February 17, 2018: Chiara String Quartet JOSEPH HAYDN (1732-1809) The Seven Last Words of Christ for string quartet February 17, 2018: Chiara String Quartet THE BACKGROUND Haydn himself described the history of this unique work in the preface to his vocal version, published in 1801: About fifteen years ago [1785] I was asked by a canon in Cádiz to write instrumental music on the Seven Words of Jesus on the Cross. It was then customary every year, during Lent, to perform an oratorio in the main church at Cádiz, to the increased effect of which the following arrangements contributed a great deal. The walls, windows, and pillars of the church were covered with black cloth, and only one large lamp, hanging in the center, illuminated the sacred darkness. At noon all the doors were closed, and the music began. After a spoken prelude, suited to the occasion, the bishop ascended the pulpit and pronounced one of the Seven Words, and delivered a reflection upon it. When it was finished, he descended from the pulpit and knelt down before the altar. This interval was filled by music. The bishop ascended and descended the pulpit a second, a third time, and so on; and each time the orchestra filled in at the end of the discourse. My composition had to be appropriate to these circumstances. The task of writing seven Adagios, each of which was to last about ten minutes, to follow one another without wearying the hearers, was not the easiest; and I soon found that I could not confine myself to the prescribed time limits. The music was originally without text, and it was printed in that form [1787]. It was only at a later period that I was induced to add the text. . . . The partiality with which this work has been received by discerning connoisseurs leads me to hope that it will not fail to make an impression on the public at large. Haydn did not travel to Spain for the first performance on Good Friday, April 6, 1787, so it is perhaps understandable that he made one salient error in a remarkably detailed description, which he presumably dictated to Georg August Griesinger, handler of his dealings with publisher Breitkopf & Härtel. (It is also possible that Griesinger crafted the preface after Haydn showed him the original commissioning letter, which has since disappeared.) The term “main church” (Hauptkirche ) does not properly signify where the performance took place, not only because there are and were many “main churches” in Cádiz, but it is misleading even within the complex of buildings that comprise the Church of the Rosario. Scholars have assumed that Haydn was simply trying to make the place of the first performance sound more imposing, but we need to follow a bit of history before his description can be appreciated for what it is—the scenario that inspired one his most remarkable and successful compositions. The original Santa Cueva (Holy Cave), underground and adjacent to Cádiz’s Church of the Rosario, began to be used in 1756 by a fraternal group for their weekly meditations on the Passion of Christ. In 1771 Jesuit priest José Sáenz de Santa María became director of the brotherhood and began conducting these meetings. Two years later, in a tangential but related connection, he helped Italian cellist Carlo Moro obtain a position in the Cádiz Cathedral orchestra and provided him with an entree to the chamber music salons of the aristocracy. (The research of cellist Carlos Prieto, who plays the Stradivari cello “ex-Piartti” once played by Moro, has helped to establish a number of pertinent facts.) Father Santa Maria invited Moro to the Good Friday ceremonies at the Santa Cueva in 1774, which took place just as described much later by Haydn and deeply impressed the cellist. In 1778 Father Santa Maria inherited his father’s vast fortune and title, Marquis de Valde-Iñigo, and immediately decided to enlarge and refurbish the Santa Cueva. He hired architect Torcuato Cayón, whom he knew from Cayón’s work on the Cádiz Cathedral, and the renovation, begun in 1781, was completed in time for Good Friday services in 1783. Cáyon had just died in January that year, so his disciple Torcuato Benjumeda continued Cáyon’s and Father Santa Maria’s much grander plans—constructing the more luxurious upper chapel of the Santa Cueva between 1793 and 1796 and refurbishing the Church of the Rosario, also in 1793. Before those later projects were carried out, however, Father Santa Maria determined that his Passion ceremonies in the Santa Cueva would be greatly enhanced by the addition of music. The tradition of a noon to three o’clock meditation on the Seven Last Words is said to have originated in Peru with Jesuit priest Francisco del Castillo, and Father Santa Maria may have gotten the idea of adding music from the 1757 posthumous publication in Seville of another Peruvian Jesuit, Alonso Messia Bedoya. Father Santa Maria always aimed high and decided to commission the most famous composer of the time, Joseph Haydn, bypassing Moro’s suggestion of an Italian compatriot, Luigi Boccherini, who was living in Spain. The idea of approaching Haydn seemed daunting to Moro, but Father Santa Maria turned to fellow brotherhood member Francisco de Paula María de Micón, marquis of Méritos, and maestro di capilla of the Cádiz Cathedral, whom Moro knew from his work there and from playing at his chamber-music soirees—and with whom he especially enjoyed speaking Italian. More important, the Marquis of Méritos was a friend of Haydn’s. In 1785 the Micón wrote a commissioning letter to Haydn full of such detail that Haydn not only accepted the commission but knew what shape it would take and what the ethos and effect of his music should be. With their correspondence lost, we can only surmise that the marquis described the ceremonies just as Haydn laid them out in his preface, and that the ceremonies took place in the same way every year, just as Moro had witnessed in 1784. Further, one of Haydn’s nephews wrote that “the composition owed more to the explanation that he had received in writing from Sr. de Micón than to his own creation because in its own unique fashion, it led him through every step of the way, to the point that, while reading the instructions from Spain, it seemed as though he was actually reading the music.” It might be added, however, that Haydn’s mention of the difficulty of the task was borne out by his friend Abbé Stadler, who was with him when he received the commission. In his autobiography, corroborated by publisher Vincent Novello and his wife, Stadler helped him over a seeming quandary about how to proceed by suggesting the he simply write melodies as if he were fitting them to the first phrase of text in his mind. Before turning to the music itself, however, we might touch on one further possibility for Haydn’s 1801 use of the term “main church,” which has led many to suppose that the first performance took place in the beautiful upper Oratory, which had not even been built at the time of the first performance in the renovated underground Santa Cueva. Among many elaborate features—Ionic columns of jasper, ornate altar of silver and jasper, patterned marble floor—the upper Oratory boasts numerous sculptures, sculptured reliefs, and paintings, in particular, three paintings by Goya: The Last Supper , The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes , and The Guest at the Wedding . Because plans for the upper Oratory were already in the works by 1785, it is entirely possible that the commissioning letter to Haydn contained many details that referred to the envisioned project (although Goya had not yet been specifically commissioned) as well as giving the description of the customary Good Friday ceremonies. The thread of the envisioned plans and how Haydn may have been influenced continues with another individual who might have played some role in Father Santa Maria’s conception of combining art and music in his Santa Cueva project. Sebastián Martínez, collector of art and literature, lived near the site and as a friend of Goya drew up the commission for his paintings for the upper oratory. Martínez owned an engraving of Poussin’s famous painting the Eucharist , which Goya would have seen while staying with him and which many commentators have described as one of the influences for Goya’s The Last Supper in the upper Oratory. As scholar Thomas Tolley suggests, Martínez, as a member of high society who was also interested in the relationship between painting and music, would have also revered Haydn and may have helped in the selecting and commissioning process. He and the others involved in commissioning may have even known the story of Haydn’s Farewell Symphony and hence his fascination with lighting effects, which may have helped to solidify their choice. In any case, it would be easy to imagine the commissioning letter including a copy of Poussin’s painting, which is strikingly similar to Haydn’s description of the “sacred darkness” illuminated by “only one large lamp, hanging in the center.” It is fascinating to think that Goya may in turn have even been influenced by a Good Friday performance of Haydn’s music in the underground Santa Cueva before completing his commission in the upper Oratory. In a remarkable tradition, The Seven Last Words has been performed at the Santa Cueva every Good Friday since 1787. Father Santa Maria made sure Haydn received the honorarium he had been promised, but in a manner almost as unusual as the work itself. One day Haydn received a small box from Cádiz, which he opened only to find a chocolate cake. Highly incensed, Haydn cut into it and found it filled with gold pieces. THE MUSICAL BACKGROUND Composed in 1786 and possibly completed in early 1787, the work originally bore the title Musica instrumentale sopra le 7 ultime parole del nostro Redentore in croce, ossiano 7 sonate con un’introduzione ed al fine un terremoto (Instrumental music on the 7 last words of our Redeemer on the cross, 7 sonatas with an introduction and at the end an earthquake), scored for pairs of flutes, oboes, and bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, timpani, and strings. We know from a later article, published around the time of a 1791 London performance, that at the time Haydn corresponded with the Bishop of Cádiz asking if he could exceed the ten-minute limit occasionally, to which the Bishop responded that he should do as he wished and he (the bishop) would shorten his sermons accordingly. (That correspondence is also unfortunately lost.) As soon as the work was completed, Haydn was already pleased with it and had it performed in Vienna on March 26 and Bonn on March 30, 1787, which performances actually predate the Cádiz performance by a few days. Haydn was taken to task by some but praised by others for his daring in expressing the Seven Last Words by purely instrumental music. He had also arranged the work in the present version for string quartet by February 14, 1787, and authorized a keyboard reduction. Then in 1794 he attended a performance in Passau for which his music had been fit with words by Joseph Friebert based on Christ’s last words from the four Gospels. Though Haydn complimented Friebert, he told a student that “could have written the vocal parts better,” and, with the help of Baron Gottfried van Swieten who adapted Freibert’s text, Haydn produced his own vocal version in 1795–96, inserting a new number for winds between the fourth and fifth sonatas, and adding clarinets, contrabassoon, and two trombones to the orchestra while subtracting two horns. This version, Die Sieben letzten Worte unseres Erlösers am Kreuze , was first perfromed in Vienna on March 26 and 27, 1796. Haydn’s instrumental original unfolds as follows, each movement, including the introduction and the earthquake, in sonata form: Introduzione, D minor, Maestoso ed Adagio: Haydn makes the most of the contrast between dramatic angular motives in dotted rhythm and contrasting tender passages with pulsing repeated notes. Sonata I: “Pater, dimitte illis, quia nesciunt, quid faciunt” (Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do), B-flat major, Largo: Sounding sweetly contrasting to the minor-mode introduction, this movement incorporates the distinct pulsing first heard there, and does switch to the minor mode for expressive purposes. Especially striking is the chromatic treatment for Haydn’s at that time imagined words “the blood of the lamb.” Sonata II: “Hodie mecum eris in Paradiso” (Today you will be with me in paradise), C minor ending in C major, Grave e cantabile: After the pensive opening and in the reprise, the switch to a singing melody in major over arpeggiated accompaniment represents the reward of paradise. Listeners may catch a foreshadow of the hymn (slow movement) of Haydn’s Emperor Quartet. Sonata III: “Mulier, ecce filius tuus” (Woman, behold your son), E major, Grave: Beginning with three simple repeated chords, Haydn’s simple seraphic setting represents the text, “Woman, behold thy son.” Scholar Daniel Heartz points out that Haydn had used similar music for his Salve regina in the same key of 1756. Sonata IV: “Deus meus, Deus meus, utquid dereliquisti me?” (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?), F minor, Largo: Solemnity and lamenting begins to predominate with Haydn’s setting for the words “My God, why have you forsaken me?” in the far removed key of F minor. Haydn had also used this dark key for his Symphony nicknamed “La Passione” in 1768. Sonata V: “Sitio” (I thirst), A major, Adagio: This movement begins with an innocent-sounding melody over “dry” pizzicato accompaniment, which makes the entrance of the raging music for the imagined text, “I thirst,” so striking for its expression of torment. Sonata VI: “Consummatum est” (It is finished), G minor, ending G major, Lento: Haydn was particularly proud of this movement, in which he represents Jesus crying to God “In a loud voice”—five fortissimo chords—“It is finished.” Haydn later uses the motive for a bass line accompaniment to a lovely violin melody in the major. Sonata VII: “In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum” (Into your hands, Father, I commit my spirit), E-flat major, Largo: Haydn represents Christ’s yielding his spirit to God’s hand in with a noble first theme. The use of mutes gives the impression of quiet acceptance and the quiet ending suggests Christ’s earthly life being over. Il terremoto, C minor, Presto e con tutta la forza: Without pause Haydn unleashes the fury of the earthquake following Christ’s crucifixion, described in Matthew 27:51: “And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent.” Haydn’s depiction in raging unisons, darting gestures, and unsettling cross rhythms provides supreme if brief contrast to all the contemplation that has gone before. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

