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JEANELLE BRIERLEY, VIOLIN Jeanelle Brierley, an Arizona native and current resident of Cleveland, Ohio, is a violinist with a passion for orchestral performance, chamber music, and pedagogy. Jeanelle completed her undergraduate degree in 2016 at the Cleveland Institute of Music, where she studied with William Preucil and was awarded the Dr. Jerome Gross prize in violin. She made her solo debut with the Phoenix Symphony and has served as the concertmaster of the Lexington Bach Festival, the Cleveland Institute of Music Orchestra, the Youngstown Symphony, the Bangor Symphony Orchestra and the orchestras of the Brevard Music Center. Jeanelle has performed as a substitute with the Minnesota Orchestra, as a guest artist at the Bermuda Piano Festival and as a member of the Canton Symphony, the Steamboat Springs’ Strings Festival, the Verbier Festival Orchestra and the Perlman Music Program’s Chamber Music Workshop. She runs a private violin studio and is on faculty at the Cleveland Institute of Music where she coaches chamber ensembles in the preparatory department. Jeanelle has been a regular substitute violinist with The Cleveland Orchestra since 2017 and has performed regularly with the ensemble in Cleveland as well as on tours throughout the United States, Europe, and Asia.

JOEL NOYES, CELLO Joel Noyes is Assistant Principal Cellist of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and is also very much in demand as chamber musician and recitalist. He regularly appears at the most prestigious concert halls throughout North America, and in 2018 alone his performing schedule will bring him from New York to Norway to China and across the U.S. He performed with Renee Fleming in the opening night concert of Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall and has been seen there many times since as part of the Musicians from the Met chamber series. He has been featured at festivals including Marlboro Music, La Jolla Summerfest, Strings Music Festival of Steamboat Springs, and serves as principal cellist of the Grand Teton Music Festival Orchestra. He has also collaborated with many of the world’s leading chamber musicians, including members of the Guarneri, Juilliard, and Vermeer Quartets. Along with fulfilling the demanding schedule at the Met Opera, at various times in his orchestral career Joel has performed with the New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra, and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. Born into a musical family in the state of Maine, he began playing the cello at the age of three under the tutelage of his father. Joel graduated from the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia where he studied with David Soyer. His other teachers have included Richard Aaron at the Cleveland Institute of Music and Marc Johnson of the Vermeer Quartet. A versatile musician, Joel composes his own music, has played Egyptian music in a band in New York, has performed on CBS’ Late Show with Stephen Colbert, and has participated in numerous movie soundtracks.

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

December 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

March 11, 2018: Benjamin Beilman, Violin; Orion Weiss, piano FREDERIC RZEWSKI Demons for violin and piano (2017) March 11, 2018: Benjamin Beilman, Violin; Orion Weiss, piano Dynamic, engaging, and committed to social issues, pianist and composer Frederic Rzewski earned his undergraduate degree at Harvard, where he studied with Randall Thompson and Walter Piston, and his master’s degree at Princeton, where his teachers included Roger Sessions and Milton Babbitt. Following additional studies with Luigi Dallapiccola on a Fulbright scholarship in Florence, Rzewski began making a name for himself as a performer and teacher of new music in Europe. In 1966 in Rome he cofounded Musica Elettronica Viva (MEV), where he explored collaborative improvisation. Rzewski returned to New York in 1971 but later took a post at the Royal Conservatory in Liège and continued to work with MEV in Rome. He has taught periodically at other renowned institutions, in particular the universities of Cincinnati, SUNY–Buffalo, California–San Diego as well as Yale, the Royal Conservatory of The Hague, and the Berlin Hochschule der Künste. As both composer and performer, Rzewski has long focused on issues that dominate the headlines. Coming Together (1972), for example, sets a letter by Attica State Prison inmate Sam Melville who was later killed in the Attica riots, and Rzewski’s monumental piano work The People United Will Never Be Defeated (1975) presents a set of variations on Sergio Ortega’s song for the mass mobilization of working-class people. More recently, Songs of Insurrection for piano (2016) treats melodies by imprisoned soldiers at a Nazi concentration camp, Korean peasants of the Donghak Rebellion, and Irish nationalists during the “Easter Rising,” among many others. To Rzewski’s credit, his works are incredibly moving and show a characteristic drive whether he employs atonal or tonal techniques, incorporates improvisation or not, or treats his own or popular melodies. Rzewski composed Demons in the spring and summer of 2017 for violinist Benjamin Beilman and pianist Orion Weiss on a commission from Music Accord. Dedicated to author and political activist Angela Davis, the work receives its premiere on March 3, 2018, in Baltimore at the Carice Smith Performing Arts Center and continues its round of premiere performances in Boston at the Longy School of Music, here on the Parlance Chamber Concerts, and in Heidelberg, Germany. The composer writes: “In Dostoyevsky’s 1871 novel of the same name, the character Kirillov kills himself in order ‘to become God.” Inspired by the Russian Nihilist movement of the 1860s and specifically by the charismatic figure Nechayev, Dostoyevsky’s book is a study of the self-destructive forces present in the Russian society of his time. It foreshadows Lenin and the Revolution of 1917, as well as the ideas of Nietzsche and Freud, and had a deep influence on writers like Mann, whose Doctor Faustus is a similar study of modern Germany. “While it is futile to try to express musical ideas in words, it is possible to say that my piece is a meditation on similar trends in the world of today. “In early November 2016, I had the honor to assist at a spectacular performance of my composition Coming Together of 1972 at the San Francisco Conservatory, with Angela Davis as the speaking soloist, a few days before the presidential elections. There was a public discussion that followed. Davis seemed to know the results already. She said that if the Left had done its job, the present situation would not have arisen. “These and similar ideas were all going through my head as I was writing Demons a few months later. I am not religious, and don’t know much about devils and such, but as an artist I cannot help feeling sensitive to whatever it is that awakens these ideas in humans, causing them to go crazy. I am not sure that scientists or doctors understand these things any better than writers or musicians. Perhaps, on the contrary, although we cannot explain them in rational terms, we can nevertheless throw some light on them, in our own way. “My piece is in four movements, and so is a kind of sonata. . . . There are periodic references to two songs throughout the piece: “Iroes,” made popular in the 1990s by the singer Maria Dimitriadis, and a song that became known during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s (notably as performed by Barbara Dane), “Freedom Is a Constant Struggle,” which also provided the title for the recent book of Angela Davis. “Thanks to a new generation of classical musicians like Benjamin Beilman, there is a revival of interest among younger players in new music that in some way continues the classical tradition. One can only hope that this trend will continue. Although Marx’s analysis of capitalism as a ruthless system following its relentless course independently of human will continues to be valid, there are nonetheless reasons to think that alternatives are possible. As Mark Twain put it, prophecy is really hard, especially when it’s about the future.” © Jane Vial Jaffe *Commissioned by Music Accord for Benjamin Beilman. Comprised of top classical music presenting organizations throughout the United States, Music Accord is a consortium that commissions news works in the chamber music, instrumental recital, and song genres. The consortium’s goal is to create a significant number of new works and to ensure presentation of these works in venues throughout this country and, if the occasion arises, internationally. For more information, please go to www.musicaccord.org . Return to Parlance Program Notes

December 15, 2019: Andrew Tyson, piano IGOR STRAVINSKY (1882–1971) Three Movements from Petrushka December 15, 2019: Andrew Tyson, piano After the brilliant success of Stravinsky’s ballet Firebird in 1910, dance impresario Sergei Diaghilev and the composer made plans for what was to be their next collaboration: The Rite of Spring, a spectacle of Russia in pagan times. Before tackling this new ballet, however, Stravinsky wanted to refresh himself by composing: an orchestral piece in which the piano would play the most important part—a sort of Konzertstück. . . . In composing the music I had in mind a distinct picture of a puppet, suddenly endowed with life, exasperating the patience of the orchestra with diabolical cascades of arpeggi. The orchestra in turn retaliates with menacing trumpet blasts. The outcome is a terrific noise which reaches its climax and ends in the sorrowful and querulous collapse of the poor puppet. This bizarre piece having been completed, I sought for hours, while walking beside Lake Geneva, to find a title that would express in a single word the character of my music and consequently the personality of this creature. One day I jumped for joy—Petrushka! The immortal and unhappy hero of all the fairs in all countries: I had found my title! [Petrushka is the Russian equivalent of Punch.) Imagine Diaghilev’s astonishment when he visited Stravinsky in Lausanne expecting sketches for The Rite of Spring and instead being confronted with a substantial installment of a completely different work, and one intended for concert rather than stage performance! He immediately saw the dramatic possibilities of Petrushka and persuaded Stravinsky to expand it into a ballet by developing the theme of the puppet’s sufferings. They agreed on the scene of action: the annual Shrove-tide Fair in Admiralty Square, St. Petersburg. Thus Stravinsky’s “diversion” became another substantial stage work, exactly the sort of piece from which he was trying to take a vacation. Petrushka took shape as four scenes or tableaux. The personalities of the three puppets—Petrushka, the Ballerina, and the Moor—are developed most in the middle two tableaux, framed by the outer scenes of the Shrove-tide Fair. In 1921 Artur Rubinstein commissioned Stravinsky to write a piano version of the famous ballet that had featured the piano so prominently. Stravinsky complied with his Three Movements, which contain more than half of the music of the original ballet. The first movement consists of the Russian Dance, which the three puppets perform when they have been charmed to life by the flute-playing of the charlatan-magician. The second movement, In Petrushka’s Cell, features the Moor, Petrushka’s rival for the affections of the Ballerina, and the final movement depicts the Shrove-tide Fair, with its Russian folk dances that contributed so much to the work’s great popularity. The success of Stravinsky’s piano transcription lies perhaps in his aim to create “something proper to the instrument” rather than a mere translation of orchestral sounds. Rubinstein, to whom the Three Movements are dedicated, achieved a great triumph with the suite, which ranks among the most virtuoso works in the piano repertoire. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

April 24, 2022 – Marc-André Hamlein, piano MARC-ANDRÉ HAMELIN Suite à l’ancienne (Suite in the old style) (2020) April 24, 2022 – Marc-André Hamlein, piano For biographic background about pianist and composer Marc-André Hamelin please see the artist’s biographical profile in this program. Just like C.P.E. Bach in this afternoon’s first piece, Marc-André Hamelin turns a retrospective gaze on the Baroque suite form, though through a much later lens. A consummate piano virtuoso who has composed throughout his illustrious career, Hamelin wrote his Suite à l’ancienne as a commission rather than as a solo vehicle for himself. He first encountered pianist Rachel Naomi Kudo in 2017 when he judged the 15th Van Cliburn International Competition. He was impressed by her performance of his Toccata on L’homme armé, which he had composed as the competition’s compulsory piece. For her part, Kudo was enamored of the piece and felt she had finally found the composer she wanted to commission with her funding from the prestigious Gilmore Young Artist Award. Said Hamelin, “I was very happy to accept. I knew I would be in good hands.” Kudo gave the premiere of the Suite à l’ancienne on February 21, 2021, in a “Virtual Special Event for The Gilmore” (Gilmore International Piano Festival). Hamelin himself will perform the piece in May 2022 at the Berliner Klavierfestival and agreed to play it one month earlier on this Parlance Chamber Concert at the request of Michael Parloff. Kudo had asked for something inspired by J. S. Bach, which turned Hamelin’s thoughts to the Baroque suite. “My suite is directly derived from the Baroque models of the various works in the genre by Bach and Handel in that the general forms are very similar. Beyond that, even though the language remains completely tonal (in A major/minor in this case), the harmony is much more involved, more chromatic.” Further, the work brims with textures and pianistic effects built on an intimate knowledge of masterful piano works ranging from Chopin and Ravel to Godowsky and Skryabin. Many Baroque suites opened with an introductory movement that was meant to be improvised or written out so as to sound like an improvisation. The stunning Préambule that opens the six-movement Suite à l’ancienne indeed sounds improvisatory with its careful notation tempered by the instruction to be played “liberamente” (freely). The brief movement commands attention with its rapid, chromatically inflected figurations that range the entire keyboard at double or triple forte throughout, ending with a grand A major chord. The Allemande presents a delightful contrast, meant to be played sweetly, charmingly, without agitation. In the binary form of most suite movements (two sections, each repeated), the music swings along easily, tunefully, despite its intricate chordal texture. In the Courante, literally “running” in French, Hamelin combines the Baroque dance type in fast triple meter with the light and playful character of a nineteenth-century scherzo, also in fast triple meter. Kudo calls this movement with its fast running sixteenth notes and leaping accompaniment “fiendishly difficult.” The right and left hands switch roles briefly at the start of the second section, which intensifies—without getting louder!—when both hands join in the fleeting sixteenth notes. The opening returns, then alters course to end in an impish disappearing act. Rather than using the typical “sarabande” designation of many Baroque suites, Hamelin titles his slow movement “Air avec agréments” (Air with ornaments). Its sound is magical, Impressionistic—shimmering in the upper register of the piano, delicately sprinkled with ornamental flourishes. A brief transition to the lower register leads directly into the next movement. This is the point in a Baroque suite where composers would often insert their choice of dances—gavotte, minuet, bourrée, among others—usually in pairs with a return to the first dance after the second. Hamelin does just that with his Gavotte—more of a graceful bustle than a courtly dance—which envelops the Musette. In earlier centuries the musette was a dance-like pastoral piece named for the small French bagpipe and imitating its sound with underlying drones and simple stepwise melodies. Hamelin cleverly makes his “drones” sound in open fifths, but they actively oscillate while ranging the left half of the keyboard. By holding everything in the pedal, including the right hand’s melodic lines, Hamelin creates a mesmerizing effect before the Gavotte returns. The Gigue makes a dazzling—and humorous—conclusion to the Suite à l’ancienne, fully in keeping with the spirit of the Baroque gigue but blasted into the twenty-first century. At one point, in a particularly chromatic passage, Hamelin writes: “Whoa, this floor’s too slippery—let’s go jig somewhere else.” The music rights itself, as if to start the section again, but continues on its roller-coaster course to a return of the jaunty opening just before the triumphant finish. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

DENIS BOURIAKOV, FLUTE Established as one of the world’s leading flute soloists, Denis Bouriakov was the winner of the 2009 Prague Spring competition, and prize winner at most major international flute competitions, including the Nielsen, Munich ARD, Kobe, Rampal, Nicolet, Larrieu, and others. He is currently the Principal Flutist of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, appointed by Gustavo Dudamel in 2015, and has previously served as the Principal Flute of the Metropolitan Opera in New York under James Levine. Denis has been combining orchestral and solo careers, regularly performing concertos and recitals worldwide. He has collaborated as a soloist with many prominent conductors, including Valery Gergiev, Daniel Harding, and Gustavo Dudamel. With his phenomenal virtuoso technique and musicianship, Denis looks outside the standard flute repertoire for works that would allow the flute to shine, continually transcribing and performing violin concertos and sonatas, and expanding the limits of flute technique and artistry. A number of his arrangements have been published by Theodore Presser, with a few in the works. Additionally, some of them are available as free downloads on his website. His first solo CD, featuring the Bach Chaconne, Sibelius Violin Concerto, and other daring original arrangements, was released in 2009 and followed by a number of other solo albums over the years. His upcoming CD release, in collaboration with the Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra, features Romantic-era violin and flute concertos such as the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto. In addition to his commercially released solo albums, Denis has published hundreds of videos of live performances from recitals and concertos on his YouTube and IGTV channels. Denis has held a full-time teaching position at the University of California, Los Angeles since 2017, alongside his fellow-flutist wife, Erin, who shares his enjoyment of collaborative teaching and duo performing. In 2018 he was appointed Visiting Professor of Flute to his alma mater, the Royal Academy of Music in London. The Academy previously awarded Denis the prestigious titles of Associate and Fellow of the Royal Academy of Music in 2006 and 2014, respectively. Denis leads many masterclasses for conservatories and universities worldwide and teaches many courses in Germany and Japan. He has been on the faculty of the Verbier Festival in Switzerland and the Pacific Music Festival in Japan, both of which he had participated in as a student. Additionally, Denis has been invited to adjudicate many international competitions. In 2019 he was appointed chairman of the woodwind jury by Valery Gergiev for the prestigious XVI Tchaikovsky International Competition. Denis was born in Simferopol, Crimea, and was a prodigy flutist from a young age. At the age of 10, he was admitted to the Moscow Central Special School, where he studied with the famous Professor Y.N. Dolzhikov, the only French-trained professor in USSR. With the support of the “New Names” International Charity Foundation and the Vladimir Spivakov Foundation, Denis toured as a young soloist in over 20 countries in Europe, Asia, South America, and the USA, performing for Pope John Paul the Second, Prince Michael of Kent, and the presidents of Russia, Romania, and Indonesia. When he turned 18, Denis went on to attend the Royal Academy of Music in London, studying with Professor William Bennett, OBE. While studying in London, he competed internationally and freelanced as a Principal Flute with the Philharmonia of London, the London Philharmonic Orchestra, Leeds Opera North, and the Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra. He won his first full-time orchestral position in 2005 as Principal Flute with the Tampere Philharmonic Orchestra in Finland, where he also taught at the Tampere Conservatory of Music. In 2008 Denis moved to Spain to become the Principal Flute with the Barcelona Symphony Orchestra under Eiji Oue. Later that year, Denis won the position as Principal Flute of the Metropolitan Opera in New York and has resided in the United States since 2009. Denis plays on an Altus PS model flute and a Faulisi silver headjoint.

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January 27, 2019: Pinchas Zukerman Trio LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) Kakadu Variations, Op. 121a January 27, 2019: Pinchas Zukerman Trio On July 19, 1816, Beethoven wrote to his Leipzig publisher Gottfried Christoph Härtel offering him his “Variations with an introduction and coda for Piano, violin, and violoncello upon a well-known theme by Müller,” adding, “They are from my earlier compositions but they do not belong to the reprehensible ones.” Beethoven had originally penned the Variations c. 1801–03, taking as his theme the well-known tune “Ich bin der Schneider Wetz und Wetz” (I am the tailor whet and whet) from Wenzel Müller’s 1794 singspiel (light opera with spoken dialogue) Die Schwestern von Prag (The sisters from Prague). The work charmed the Viennese in 130 performances at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt during Beethoven’s lifetime. An 1814 revival—the opera’s 122nd performance—may have prompted Beethoven to revisit the Variations and send them to his publisher in 1816, but he appears to have gone far beyond a mere dusting off. He likely made revisions in two stages, as scholar Lewis Lockwood has pointed out, both around 1816, and, since Härtel did not publish the work then, again around 1824 when Steiner published it as Opus 121a—the last of the master’s piano trios. In particular, Beethoven made substantial changes to his introduction and finale, the latter curiously labeled “rondo” in the 1824 publication but clearly not in that form. The popular tune that Beethoven used as his theme—now the opera’s best-known melody thanks to the Variations—underwent a name change by the time of the 1824 publication, because “Wetz und Wetz” (whet and whet, or grind and grind) had sexual connotations in Viennese dialect. The choice of the innocuous “Kakadu,” a comic bird, may have been related in some way to Mozart’s birdcatcher Papageno from The Magic Flute. In Müller’s singspiel, “Ich bin der Schneider Wetz und Wetz” is the entrance song of the tailor Krispin, who will disguise himself as the “sister from Prague” to gain the required approval for his master Herr von Gerstenfeld to marry Herr von Brummer’s daughter Wilhelmine against a field of undesirable suitors. Beethoven’s introduction, presumably expanded when he revisited the work, contrasts markedly from the more traditional ensuing variations. Fantasia-like, it anticipates the “Kakadu” tune in tantalizing bits as if, as Lockwood suggests, Müller’s simple, jocular theme is being “composed before our very ears.” Beethoven also seems to have tinkered with the last variation, elaborating it in a fugal manner and imbuing the coda with extra weight and the experience of his mature years. That Beethoven returned in Variations 1–9 to the more conventional if still engaging variations of his original set seems to say that he was happy with them as long as his introduction and conclusion now showed how far he had come in his maturity. After the drama of the introduction, the utterly simple presentation of Müller’s Papageno-like theme makes for a delightful comedic jolt. Variation 1 features the piano alone, Variation 2 highlights the violin in running triplets and birdlike ornaments over dainty piano, and Variation 3 presents the cello in lyrical lines to gentle piano accompaniment. Variations 4, 5, and 6 combine the three instruments—No. 4 sending the piano in cascading descents and ascents, No. 5 introducing contrapuntal imitation, and No. 6 requiring virtuosic delicate piano octave figurations with pointed “chirps” from the strings. Variation 7 gives the violin and cello a simple contrapuntal duet, Variation 8 shows Beethoven’s fleet-footed rhythmic play in alternation between strings and piano, and Variation 9 presents the requisite minor-mode Adagio for somberly expressive contrast. Variation 10 scampers at lightning speed until the coda begins in a simple, slightly martial Allegretto that Beethoven builds in fugal style to a grand, spirited conclusion. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

November 15, 2015 – Jeremy Denk, piano; Stefan Jackiw, violin CHARLES IVES (1874-1954) Violin Sonata 1, S. 60 and Violin Sonata No. 4, “Children’s Day at the Camp Meeting,” S. 63 November 15, 2015 – Jeremy Denk, piano; Stefan Jackiw, violin In his four violin sonatas, as in much of his music, Ives drew on scraps of hymns, popular songs, band tunes, patriotic songs, and ballads of nineteenth-century America, familiar from growing up in Danbury, Connecticut. These he combined with his own original blend of traditional and nontraditional harmonies, “wrong-note” dissonances, clusters, and very free counterpoint. The sonatas are groupings of many individual violin and piano movements that Ives worked on from c.1906 to 1919. Definite similarities exist among the violin sonatas. All are conceived in a three-movement form and all end with a large-scale coda based on a hymn tune, played by the violin in altered form. The First Sonata , which Ives assembled around 1914 or 1917 using some materials from as early as 1906, shows an intriguing unification by key scheme and motives that neither Second nor Fourth Sonata demonstrates; the Third again uses cyclic procedures. Not only does Ives preview the key of the next movement’s opening motive in both the first and second movements, but he also emphasizes two main keys across movements. Further, he brings back the first movement’s opening at the end of the third movement, and he plays on the melodic similarities between some of his borrowed tunes, such as “Shining Shore” in the first movement and “Watchman” in the third. Other remarkable features of the First Sonata are its types of cumulative settings—unusual even for Ives—in its first and third movement. Cumulative is the apt term, coined by scholar J. Peter Burkholder in his 1983 doctoral dissertation, referring to the manner in which Ives introduces motives that he elaborates and combines until he presents the final “accumulated” setting toward the conclusion. Here in the First Sonata Ives bases his first movement primarily on the hymn “Shining Shore,” which has a contrasting middle section. He not only lets its main theme accumulate through the movement, but similarly treats a countermelody made from the hymn’s contrasting melody. Further, he begins with an introduction that returns at the end, encapsulating the cumulative setting. The slow movement, like much of Ives’s Second Sonata, draws on what is commonly referred to as his “Pre-First” Violin Sonata, which he may have begun as early as c. 1901–02 and worked on at various times between 1908 and 1913. Here, as in that slow movement, he freely varies “The Old Oaken Bucket” in its outer sections and bits of the Civil War tune “Tramp, Tramp, Tramp” in its livelier middle section. The loud violin passage at the end previews the main theme of the third movement. In the third movement’s cumulative setting—even more ingenious than in the first—Ives starts to treat fragments from the tune “Work Song” and interrupts this “development” by beginning a different cumulative setting as a middle section (on the tune “Watchman”). He then resumes the initial setting and takes it to its full-blown conclusion—thus creating a unique three-part form. Ives jotted down the following colorful description of the First Sonata on his score: “This sonata is in part a general impression, of kind of reflection and remembrance of the peoples’ outdoor gatherings in which men got up and said what they thought, regardless of the consequences—of holiday celebrations and camp meetings in the [18]80s and 90s—suggesting some of the songs, tunes, and hymns, together with some of the sounds of nature joining in from the mountains in some of the old Connecticut farm towns. “The first movement may, in a way, suggest something that nature and human nature would sing out to each other—sometimes. The second movement, a mood when ‘The Old Oaken Bucket’ and ‘Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching’ would come over the hills, trying to relive the sadness of the old Civil War Days. And the third movement, the hymns and the actions at the farmers’ camp meeting inciting them to ‘work for the night is coming.’” * * * Ives assembled the material of the Fourth Sonata between 1911 and 1916. It was the only violin sonata for which he actually supervised publication: he had it privately lithographed in 1914–15 in a four-movement version. It was later republished in 1942, without the fourth movement and with certain revisions of the other movements. The omitted movement became the finale of the Second Sonata. The Fourth Sonata, Ives said, was “an attempt to write a sonata which Moss White, then about twelve years old, could play. The first movement kept to this idea fairly well, but the second got away from it, and the third got in between. Moss White couldn’t play the last two and neither could his teacher.” The 1942 publication provided Ives’s vivid commentary on the work, taken “mostly from remarks written on the back of some of the old music manuscripts,” which is quoted extensively here for his unique description of his own childhood experiences and how they influenced the work’s construction: “This sonata . . . called ‘Children’s Day at the Camp Meeting’ . . . is shorter than the other violin sonatas, and a few of its parts and suggested themes were used in organ and other earlier pieces. The subject matter is a kind of reflection, remembrance, expression, etc., of the children’s services at the outdoor summer camp meetings held around Danbury and in many of the farm towns in Connecticut, in the [18]70s, 80s, and 90s. . . . “The first movement (which was sometimes played last and the last first)—was suggested by an actual happening at one of these services. The children, especially the boys, liked to get up and join in the marching kind of hymns. And as these meetings were ‘outdoor,’ the ‘march’ sometimes became a real one. One day Lowell Mason’s ‘Work for the Night Is Coming’ got the boys going and keeping on between services. . . . In this movement . . . the postlude organ practice [Ives was an accomplished organist] . . . and the boys’ fast march got to going together, even joining in each others’ sounds, and the loudest singers and also those with the best voices, as is often the case, would sing most of the wrong notes. . . . The organ would be uncovering ‘covered 5ths’ breaking ‘good resolutions’ faster and faster and the boys’ march reaching almost a ‘Main Street Quick-step’ when Parson Hubbell would beat the ‘Gong’ on the oak tree for the next service to begin. Or if it is growing dark, the boys’ march would die away, as they marched down to their tents, the barn doors or over the ‘1770 Bridge’ between the Stone Pillars to the Station. “The second movement is quieter and more serious except when Deacon Stonemason Bell and Farmer John would get up and get the boys excited. But most of the movement moves around a rather quiet but old favorite hymn of the children [“Jesus Loves Me”], while mostly in the accompaniment is heard something trying to reflect the outdoor sounds of nature on those summer days—the west wind in the pines and oaks, the running brook—sometimes quite loudly—and maybe towards evening the distant voices of the farmers across the hill getting in their cows and sheep. “But as usual even in the quiet services, some of the deacon-enthusiasts would get up and sing, roar, pray, and shout but always fervently, seriously, reverently—perhaps not ‘artistically’—(perhaps the better for it). . . . At times these ‘confurorants’ would give the boys a chance to run out and throw stones down on the rocks in the brook! (Allegro conslugarocko!)—but this was only momentary and the quiet Children’s Hymn is sung again, perhaps some of the evening sounds are with it—and as this movement ends, sometimes a distant Amen is heard—as the mood of the Day calls for it. . . . “The third movement is more in the nature of the first. As the boys get marching again some of the old men would join in and march as fast (sometimes) as the boys and sing what they felt, regardless—and—thanks to Robert Lowry—‘Gather at the River.’” * * * In 1914 Ives invited accomplished German violinist Franz Milke to try out his First and Second Violin Sonatas, before he made revisions several years later. As the composer reported, “He didn’t even get through the first page. He was all bothered with the rhythms and the notes, and got mad. He said ‘This cannot be played.’ . . . He couldn’t get it even after I’d played it over for him several times.” This, coming after Ives had experienced a number of similar reactions to his music, prompted him to wonder, “Are my ears on wrong?” Though they still contain challenges, his violin sonatas have long been recognized by performers and listeners alike as among the most original and important pieces of violin music by an American composer. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

May 15, 2016: James Morris, bass-baritone; Rafael Figueroa, cello; Ken Noda, piano GIUSEPPE VERDI (1813–1901) Come dal ciel precipita from Macbeth, Ella giammai m’amò from Don Carlo May 15, 2016: James Morris, bass-baritone; Rafael Figueroa, cello; Ken Noda, piano In 1846 Verdi was given free rein by the Teatro della Pergola to choose an opera subject and opted for Shakespeare’s Macbeth when he learned that the cast would include first-class singer-actor baritone Felice Varesi. Francesco Maria Piave wrote the libretto, bullied by Verdi into making certain changes, along with Andrea Maffei, whom Verdi hired to pen some additional material. Verdi closely supervised rehearsals, which resulted in a successful premiere on March 14, 1847, but Verdi was criticized, much to his outrage, for not knowing his Shakespeare. Verdi lavished great care on several revisions and personally oversaw many productions, but Macbeth met with relatively little success during his lifetime. He was especially baffled when the production at Paris’s Théâtre Lyrique, for which he had made substantial revisions in 1864, was largely unsuccessful. Verdi’s annoyance at the opera’s reception, however, did nothing to alter its status in his eyes as the favorite of his early operas, and time has proved its merit. In Act II Macbeth has murdered King Duncan and become king, but plots the murder of Banco and his son Fleance to thwart the prophecy that Banco’s children will rule Scotland. As the assassins lie in wait for Banco outside the castle, Banco sings his famous recitative and aria—unchanged in Verdi’s many revisions—“Studia il passo . . . Come dal ciel precipita” (Watch your step . . . How from the heaven falls), in which he warns his son about his feeling of foreboding. The aria’s noble, rich unfolding comes to an impassioned peak just before the coda, when the assassins strike him down but fail to halt his escaping son. * * * * * In 1865, when Verdi was planning a grand opera for the Paris Opéra, he returned to the idea of Don Carlos, a subject he had rejected in the 1850s, but now fit his conception of a “magnificent drama,” offering the perfect potential for both spectacle and sympathy for the lovers. He closely supervised the preparation of the libretto, which François Joseph Méry loosely adapted from Schiller’s play, and which Camille de Locle completed after Méry’s death. Verdi had completed most of the opera in 1866 before arriving in Paris that July to supervise the long rehearsal period, but found his five-act opera far too long and made substantial cuts. Despite his careful attention to all aspects of the production, the premiere on March 11, 1867, met with only modest success. Verdi made numerous revisions for Italian revivals over twenty years, ending with a four-act version for La Scala in 1884 that cut the entire first act. Since then companies have juggled versions, cuts, and restoration of certain portions, but the opera, typically performed in Italian and called Don Carlo, has now emerged from the filter of history as one of Verdi’s most respected and beloved. Verdi’s unsurpassed dramatic and musical mastery culminates in his depiction of the power struggles, private loves, and tragic consequences of these historic personages. The story is based on the son of Spanish King Philip II, Don Carlos, who plots with Marquis Posa against the tyrannical king. Carlos is betrothed to Elisabeth of Valois, but she instead marries his father, Philip II, as part of a peace treaty. The heartbreak of the two lovers lies at the heart of the opera, but equally tragic is Philip II’s role. Verdi gives him one of the best bass arias in the repertoire, “Ella giammai m’amò” (She never loved me), in which he poignantly laments that his wife has never loved him. A moving cello obbligato interlaces his heartbreaking expression of his loneliness and the powerlessness of his crown to see into others’ hearts. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes