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November 19, 2017: Los Angeles Guitar Quartet PAT METHENY Road to the Sun November 19, 2017: Los Angeles Guitar Quartet Guitar is an interesting instrument. Across virtually all genres, it remains an ongoing research project – in the best possible sense. It is an instrument that in general is somewhat undefined by any single approach. There are seemingly infinite ways to deploy the potential of what it offers. And in multiples, those potentials grow exponentially. A few years back, I was flattered to have one of my compositions included in the LAGQ’s Grammy winning CD Guitar Heroes. Not long after that the idea came up that I might someday write something new for them. The idea of writing a guitar quartet inspired by the talents of the LAGQ has been simmering somewhere in the back of my mind ever since. The thought of really addressing the instrument in a more formal way under the auspices of what this quartet has come to embody, not to mention the sheer, almost overwhelming individual skills of the four players, was something I really wanted to do. It was just a matter of finding the time I knew that I would need to do it. Luckily for me, I am very busy as a bandleader and I feel privileged to be able to record and tour almost constantly with my own groups. But after a particularly active year in 2014 where I did more than 150 concerts around the world, I decided, for the first time, to take a year off from the road in 2015. Hopefully, I thought, I could get caught up with a few things. Kind of on my list was this lingering idea of finally writing something for the LAGQ. Near the end of the year, I saw a window opening up where I would have a few weeks that I might dedicate to this. With the approval of the guys and a few really useful tips from all of them, I jumped in, hoping to write a concert piece of 7 to 9 minutes. Two weeks later, I found myself with a nearly 30 minute, 6 movement treatise on the aforementioned potentials of what can happen in a multi-guitar format, blazingly inspired by the thought of hearing these four incredible guitarists play these notes. The piece just literally poured out. In truth, as much as I am identified as being a guitarist myself, I don’t really spend a whole lot of time thinking about the instrument in a specific way. It has always been an almost inadvertent tool for me to translate ideas into sound, and mostly as an improviser at that. And in fact, when I do compose for various projects or for my bands, I almost always am doing it at the piano, a much more forgiving and logical universe to write in than the odd geometry of guitar-thought. But for this piece, I decided to really embrace the instrument and kind of get under the hood of a bunch of things that I do with the instrument, things that are somewhat identified with what it seems has now become my particular style, while at the same time reach for the narrative element of storytelling that is the imperative and primary function for me always as a musician. And yet, with the piece now complete, as much as those components provided an aspirational environment to work from, the main quality that I think the piece offers is the emotional journey that it takes. Somehow through the challenge of writing for this unique platform and aiming it towards the hands of these especially talented players, I was able to get to a very personal area of what music itself is to me. It feels like a journey to me, almost a road trip in scale and scope. In settling on the title “Road to the Sun”, I thought back to my trip up to Glacier National Park on the famous “Going-to-the-Sun Road”, the day after hearing LAGQ play live for the first time at a festival in Montana. It has been a thrill to get the chance to write for the amazing Los Angeles Guitar Quartet and I am very excited to hear what William, Scott, John and Matt will do on their journey with this work. -Pat Metheny February 2016 Pat Metheny: Road to the Sun (2016) was commissioned through the International Arts Foundation, Inc. for the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet by the lead commissioners: Newman Center for the Performing Arts/University of Denver and Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, College of Fine + Applied Arts, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Additional support provided by co-commissioners: Lobero Theater Foundation, Hopkins Center at Dartmouth College, 92nd Street Y, Performing Arts Series at Johnson County Community College and Soka University of America/Soka Performing Arts Center. Return to Parlance Program Notes

September 26, 2021: Arnaud Sussmann, violin; Danbi Um, violin; Nathan Melzer, violin; Kevin Zhu, violin; James Thompson, violin; Jeanelle Brierley, violin; Oliver Neubauer, violin; Clara Neubauer, viola; Paul Neubauer, viola; Isabella Bignasca, viola; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Sihao He, cello; David J. Grossman, bass; Paolo Bordignon, harpsichord ANTONIO VIVALDI (1678-1741) Il cimento dell’armonia e dell’inventione, op. 8, nos. 1–4, “The Four Seasons” September 26, 2021: Arnaud Sussmann, violin; Danbi Um, violin; Nathan Melzer, violin; Kevin Zhu, violin; James Thompson, violin; Jeanelle Brierley, violin; Oliver Neubauer, violin; Clara Neubauer, viola; Paul Neubauer, viola; Isabella Bignasca, viola; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Sihao He, cello; David J. Grossman, bass; Paolo Bordignon, harpsichord September 26, 2021: Arnaud Sussmann, violin; Danbi Um, violin; Nathan Melzer, violin; Kevin Zhu, violin; James Thompson, violin; Jeanelle Brierley, violin; Oliver Neubauer, violin; Clara Neubauer, viola; Paul Neubauer, viola; Isabella Bignasca, viola; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Sihao He, cello; David J. Grossman, bass; Paolo Bordignon, harpsichord Vivaldi’s greatness as a composer lay in his extraordinary mastery of instrumental forms and orchestration. An accomplished violinist, he also trained for the priesthood, taking his Holy Orders in 1703; he was dubbed “the red priest” because of his striking hair color. For much of his career he worked at the Pio Ospedale Pietà, an orphanage and famous conservatory for girls in Venice. Many of his instrumental works, including most of his 500 concertos, were written for his students there. He also traveled throughout Italy in connection with the presentation of his operas, and for a time around 1718–20 he was employed as court music director in Mantua. We know from Vivaldi’s own preface that he composed The Four Seasons long before their publication in 1725, but the precise date and place of composition may forever elude us. Possibly composed as early as 1716, these concertos appeared as the first of twelve making up his Opus 8 collection, which he dedicated to music-loving Bohemian Count Morzin. Vivaldi’s preface implies that he knew the count’s “virtuoso orchestra”—had the composer visited Prague? The Four Seasons spread Vivaldi’s fame far and wide in his own lifetime. Would he have been surprised to find that these concertos later achieved such ultra-popularity as to be played as restaurant background music, in television commercials, and for movie soundtracks? Though he might have been irritated at some of these applications, he might have been intrigued that their use in Alan Alda’s film The Four Seasons and on the Weather Channel actually relates to one of their most salient attributes—that of being program music, or music that tells a story. On the most basic level these works give a musical representation of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. But what makes them so innovative and memorable is the vividness and detail of Vivaldi’s programmatic description. The concertos were prefaced by four “explanatory sonnets”—presumably written by the composer—whose verses refer to points in the score through a system of keyed letters (see below). Reading the poetry in sync with the music illuminates what the images are, but it is the remarkable music with its myriad nuanced references to mankind’s relationship with nature that shows the height of Vivaldi’s artistry. As a fascinating aside, Vivaldi’s sonnets recently helped paleo-ecologist/climatologist Ulla Kokfelt, who was working on climatic reconstructions from Venice and Po just following the “late maunder minimum” period (1675–1715, the culmination of a “little ice age”). She was able to draw certain conclusions because of the sonnets’ specificity and the fact that the concertos were probably written well before 1725. * * * One of Vivaldi’s great achievements was establishing the three-movement norm for the concerto. For the outer fast movements he often used ritornello form, in which periodic returns of thematic material alternate with contrasting episodes. His programs for the Four Seasons, while occasionally shaping the form, more often fit admirably into his characteristic concerto models. Vivaldi found ritornello form perfect for depicting the sonnets’ contrasting images in the fast movements, and the slow movements particularly apt for setting the mood of an entire scene or succession of scenes. Of the myriad glorious depictions in these concertos, we might single out the picturesque bird calls in the first movement of Spring, which are interrupted by a dramatic squall, or the slow movement’s exquisite sleepy mood, which is punctuated by the faithful dog “barking” in the viola part. The burning dryness of Summer’s opening contrasts so vividly with the cuckoo’s outbreak, as do the gentle breezes with the intrusion of the north wind. The anticipation of a storm builds ingeniously in the slow movement and the tempest’s fury in the final movement is truly impressive. In Autumn’s opening movement Vivaldi cleverly intersperses the ritornello refrain of the dancing country-folk with the colorful episodes of the bacchanal, brilliantly enacted by the solo violin with solo cello, and the atmospheric slumbering represented by the solo violin accompanied only by the pulsing of the ensemble violins. The muted slow movement traditionally gives the keyboard player a chance to improvise, while the closing movement contrasts the ritornello refrains representing the riding hunters with an episode of horn calls, another of the wounded prey, and finally of the animal’s death. Vivaldi’s depictions of shivering and of icy winds, of stamping feet and of chattering teeth are truly miraculous in Winter’s first movement. The slow movement’s peace by the fireside is shattered by the return of icy images in the finale. The Concerto and the entire cycle come to one of music’s most rousing conclusions as the howling winds wage war. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

January 19, 2020: Paul Lewis, piano LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) Piano Sonata No. 13 in E-flat major, op. 27, no. 1, “Quasi una fantasia” Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor, op. 27, no. 2, “Quasi una fantasia” (“Moonlight”) January 19, 2020: Paul Lewis, piano Beethoven, like Mozart, was famous for his ability to improvise both in formal and informal settings, and his pieces in fantasia style—free form stringing together of inventive figures, rhythmically unfettered gestures, and “strange effects” (often unusual harmonic progressions)—probably originated as improvisations. Previous to his two Opus 27 Sonatas, he and his predecessors Mozart and Haydn had written one-movement, multisectional fantasias or incorporated fantasia passages into sonata movements, but in 1800–01 Beethoven boldly expanded the fantasia idea into an entire multimovement structure. His label “quasi una fantasia ” for his Opus 27 Sonatas reflects this new outlook. In the first of these, the E-flat major Sonata , Beethoven runs all four movements together, making inner connections between movements. Modeled after Mozart’s celebrated C minor Fantasy, K. 475, the wonderfully imaginative E-flat major Sonata has unfortunately been overshadowed by its ultra-famous companion piece, the Moonlight Sonata. Beethoven composed the E-flat Sonata for his pupil and patron Princess Josephine Sophie von Liechtenstein, née Fürstenburg. The first movement unfolds in an unconventional three-part fantasia form, beginning at a novel slow pace with an unassuming air that gives nothing away about the power to come. The contrast with the fast, dancelike middle section is startling. The figuration here suggests Beethoven improvising in fantasia style. The C minor scherzo shows another kind of fantasia figuration—little three-note groups of broken chords in contrary motion. Beethoven evokes the hunt in the contrasting trio. When the scherzo returns, the three-note groups become ingeniously offset between the two hands. The brief slow movement makes its luminous entrance in a new key that holds over a common tone from the close of the previous movement. The graceful opening melody returns in higher register with elaborated accompaniment after a “middle section” in which much of the tune occurs on afterbeats. Beethoven concentrates the weight of the Sonata in this tour-de-force finale, for which he crafted an inspired quasi-contrapuntal main theme and combined sonata and rondo form. In his surprising conclusion he recalls the slow movement in a subtle variant, before dashing off in a presto coda based on the second two notes of his main theme. A discussion of the Moonlight Sonata no longer necessitates a protest against its nickname, which was not attached by Beethoven, but by music critic H.F.L. Rellstab, who likened the first movement to “a boat passing the scenery of Lake Lucerne in the moonlight.” It has also been clear since chronicler Otto Jahn’s conversations in 1852 with the Sonata’s dedicatee, Countess Giulietta Guicciardi, that Beethoven did not have her in mind when composing the work in 1801. Commentators had come to exaggerate a romantic relationship between the two when it was supposed that he wrote the “moonlight” movement as a love song to her. In fact, Beethoven dedicated the Sonata to her in replacement for a dedication (for the Rondo, op. 51, no. 2) that she had let him “take back” for another dedicatee. As it turned out with Countess Guicciardi, Beethoven seems to have followed his typical pattern of bestowing his affections on a lady of high social station until she married someone else. As to “her” C-sharp minor Sonata, Beethoven became annoyed at its immense popularity, stating to composer Carl Czerny, “Everybody is always talking about the C-sharp minor Sonata! Surely I have written better things.” Beethoven’s designation “fantasia” here refers to the hypnotic effect of the slow first movement, which sounds like a free improvisation in its harmonic plan and continuous figuration, though in fact it combines conventions of ternary and sonata form. The middle movement, which Liszt aptly described as “a flower between two abysses,” makes a bow to Classic grace. Its trio emphasizes a rhythmic idea that Beethoven had already introduced in the first section. The devilishly difficult Presto finale presents another kind of fantasia figuration, which with its savage ferocity surely resulted in broken strings on the pianos of Beethoven’s day. The first theme is fashioned from agitated arpeggios that lead to jabbing repeated chords, and though the second theme provides a slight relaxation, the agitated feeling persists in the accompaniment. What is so remarkable about this movement is that its ties to conventional sonata form are completely overshadowed by its radical gestures and textures, features of Beethoven’s improvisational, fantasia style with which he meant to astonish his listeners. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

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CHRIS COLETTI, TRUMPET Internationally acclaimed trumpeter Chris Coletti, most known for his work with the legendary Canadian Brass, is a soloist, chamber music/orchestral musician and Assistant Professor at Ithaca College School of Music. Comfortable in many musical styles, he has collaborated with a broad spectrum of musicians ranging from the Metropolitan Opera Brass, New York Philharmonic Principal Brass, Pierre Boulez, Michael Tilson Thomas and Ricardo Muti to Quincy Jones, Carlos Santana, Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine. Chris also performs on the Baroque Trumpet with various early music ensembles in and around NY. Chris regularly performs with NOVUS NY, the all-star contemporary music orchestra of Trinity Church Wall Street in Manhattan. With Canadian Brass, Chris has performed hundreds of concerts in the finest concert halls in the world, countless live TV appearances and radio broadcasts, and regularly appears in front of major symphony orchestras. Chris can be heard on 9 Canadian Brass recordings, most of which feature his original arrangements, and countless other recordings and music videos with world-class artists. Chris got his professional start in 2008 as Principal Trumpet of The Huntsville Symphony Orchestra in Alabama, a position he still holds. As an educator, Chris has taught master classes at top conservatories around the world, and his students have won positions in professional orchestras and have been accepted into top music programs including Manhattan School of Music, McGill University and Tanglewood. Chris’s articles have been featured in notable publications such as the International Trumpet Guild, International Trumpet Guild Youth Journal, SONIC – Magazin für Holz – und Blechinstrumente (Germany) and The Brass Herald (England), and have been translated into German, Spanish, and Japanese. Chris has been a featured guest on many music performance and music business podcasts, and maintains a popular blog and email newsletter for trumpeters and other musicians. Chris received his Masters Degree from The Juilliard School and his Bachelors Degree from Manhattan School of Music. Throughout his education Chris received multiple awards and scholarships, and won a number of competitions including the Music Academy of the West Chamber Concerto Competition, Manhattan School of Music Concerto Competition, LaGuardia Arts Concerto Competition, Staten Island Symphony Concerto Competition, The Tanglewood Music Center Charles E. Culpeper Foundation Fellowship and Susan B. Kaplan Fellowship, The Juilliard School Frieda and Harry Aronson Scholarship, and The Manhattan School of Music President Scholarship. Among his numerous accolades, Chris also has perfect pitch, is a professional whistler, and has the unique ability to sing an operatic high C.

September 27, 2009 – Lawrence Dutton, viola; Ken Noda, piano JOHANNES BRAHMS (1833-1897) Sonata in E-Flat, Op. 120, for viola and piano September 27, 2009 – Lawrence Dutton, viola; Ken Noda, piano The warm, middle-range sonorities of the viola and the clarinet cast the two instruments as natural musical allies. Both instruments are, by nature, warm and consoling. The viola was the favored chamber instrument of Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert, and the clarinet inspired late masterworks by composers as diverse as Mozart, Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, and Bartók. There is a spiritual link between the two instruments, which Schumann exploited in Fairy Tales (heard earlier on this program). Brahms’ Sonata in E-Flat was originally composed for the clarinet, but he soon decided to arrange it for the viola, feeling that the work’s glowing, reflective character would be equally well-served by the rich-toned string instrument. In 1890 Brahms was entering his late 50s and felt that his composing days were coming to an end. Ever self-critical, he intended to complete a few unfinished works and burn the rest. Fortunately, he attended a performance around that time by the distinguished German clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld and was inspired to compose a series of crowning works to showcase his artistry. (Mozart was similarly inspired by the playing of the legendary Anton Stadler, to whom he dedicated a set of late masterpieces, including his great clarinet concerto, composed only weeks before his death.) Brahms’ E-flat-major sonata, heard here on the viola, is the final piece in the set of compositions that he wrote for Mühlfeld and his last piece of chamber music. Brahms found his unique compositional voice early in his career and maintained it until the end. Unlike Schumann, who favored poetic titles for his pieces, Brahms eschewed programmatic references, preferring to write “pure” music in traditional forms. In contrast to revolutionaries such as Wagner and Lizst, Brahms was, at heart, a Romantic Classicist, keenly aware of his place in the lineage of music history. As he grew older, his music became texturally simpler and more graceful, reflective, and relaxed. “Autumnal” is the term invariably applied to his late works, and that adjective perfectly describes the atmosphere of the sonata in E-flat major for viola or clarinet. The first movement is bathed in a warm, sustained lyricism. The atmosphere is pastoral, tranquil, and suffused with a golden inner glow. Brahms’ musical voice is wise and consoling throughout this exceptionally beautiful movement. The passionate second movement, in the form of a vigorous Scherzo, begins with a fiery viola solo. A reassuring, chorale-like middle section starts with the piano alone in music of sustained nobility and confidence. The trio is followed by a short transition, heralding a return to the urgency and passion of the first section. The final movement starts with a flowing, folk-like theme, which is followed by six variations. Brahms was always fascinated by the element of rhythm, and he uses complicated syncopated patterns as important structural components in several of the variations. In the first one, for instance, the piano and viola play on opposite sides of each pulse, alternating in playing on and off the beat. The second variation has a cradle-like motion; the simple melody is accompanied by an arpeggiated pattern that teeters back and forth across the octaves. Variation 3 is a calm, filigreed conversation between the two instruments, and the fourth variation extends the tranquil atmosphere in a gentle but rhythmically off-balance dialogue that often masks the downbeats. Variation 5 insistently reestablishes the rhythmic equilibrium, diving headlong into a vigorous, E-flat-minor allegro. The sixth and final variation begins with a serenely flowing stream of melody that gradually gains in momentum, culminating in a strong, triumphant conclusion. By Michael Parloff 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.

SUNDAY, MAY 8, 2022 AT 3 PM MEETING MOZART BUY TICKETS MICHAEL PARLOFF ARNAUD SUSSMANN, VIOLIN “Beauty of sound and elegance.” — Nice Matin PAUL NEUBAUER, VIOLA “A master musician.” — The New York Times FRED SHERRY, CELLO “The cellist Fred Sherry has been central to New York music for a half century, and no wonder: a dynamic, ebullient, and magnanimous artist and teacher.” — The New Yorker ANNA POLONSKY, PIANO “Her clear and transparent touch, her dynamic and finely persuasive play, revealed the temperament and the sensibility of a true Mozartian…” — Les Dernières Nouvelles d’Alsace FEATURING ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS Artistic Director Michael Parloff will illuminate three of Mozart’s most dazzling works for strings and piano. This special multimedia events will connect the biographical facts of Mozart’s life with the musical facts of three magnificent works. The G-major violin sonata was composed when Mozart was a young man eager to spread his creative wings and escape from the confining world of his despised employer, the Archduke of Salzburg. His valedictory violin sonata, K. 526, is a product of his full maturity, composed concurrently with his most dramatic opera, Don Giovanni. The concluding work, the searing Piano Quartet in G minor, K. 478, is universally regarded as one of Mozart’s greatest chamber masterpieces. Four master musicians will perform the works in their entirety. PROGRAM W.A. Mozart Violin Sonata in G, K. 379 Program Notes W.A. Mozart Violin Sonata in A, K. 526 Program Notes W.A. Mozart Piano Quartet in G minor, K. 478 Program Notes Watch Arnaud Sussmann perform Mozart’s Violin Sonata in E minor, K. 309 (1st Movement): Watch Anna Polonsky and violinist Stefan Jackiw perform Mozart’s Violin Sonata in G, K. 379:

March 13, 2022: Kristin Lee, violin; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Michael Brown, piano CLAUDE DEBUSSY (1862-1918) Violin Sonata in G minor, L. 140 and Cello Sonata in D minor, L. 135 March 13, 2022: Kristin Lee, violin; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Michael Brown, piano Toward the end of his life Debussy set himself the goal of writing six sonatas for diverse instruments, but he was able to complete only three before succumbing to colon cancer. The devastation in Paris caused by World War I and his declining health had left him unable to compose for almost a year, but he was roused to take up the pen again in the summer of 1915 by a surge of patriotism and by a change of scenery to Dieppe. He completed his Cello Sonata and the Sonata for flute, viola, and harp before returning to Paris that October, and, after another bout with his illness, the Violin Sonata in 1916–17. He dedicated these remarkable works, along with the three he planned to write, “en hommage à Emma-Claude Debussy (p.m.)”—the parenthetical initials standing for “petite mienne” (my little one), his pet name for his second wife. Violin Sonata With immense, tortured effort, and several revisions of the finale, he was able to finish the Violin Sonata by the end of March 1917. It was the last composition he completed. He gave the first performance with violinist Gaston Poulet on May 5, 1917, at the Salle Gaveau, and with repeat performances in Saint-Jean-de-Luz and Biarritz he bid farewell to the concert stage. Debussy’s published title pages for each of the three Sonatas identified him as “musicien français,” by which he proudly showed his patriotism in time of war, but also his often declared determination to put forth a national French style as great as that of his Baroque forbears Couperin and Rameau. In May 1917 Debussy expressed great satisfaction with his Violin Sonata writing to his friend Robert Godet, “In keeping with the contradictory spirit of human nature it is full of a joyous tumult.” Yet only one month later, writing in a depressed state to Godet, he condemned the Sonata: You should know, my too trusting friend, that I only wrote this Sonata to be rid of the thing, spurred on as I was by my dear publisher. You, who are able to read between the staves, will see traces of Imp of the Perverse [story by Edgar Allan Poe] who encourages one to choose the very subject which should be ignored. This Sonata will be interesting from a documentary viewpoint and as an example of what may be produced by a sick man in time of war. Godet firmly challenged his deprecatory remarks saying, “One would be justified in criticizing it if it were not true music; which it undoubtedly is, and in a delightful way.” Nevertheless, Debussy’s dejected criticisms contributed to some harsh evaluations of the work, which happily have been ignored by thousands of violin and piano duos who have enthusiastically embraced this unique contribution from the composer’s late period. A lyrical, melancholy opening belies the first movement’s designation Allegro vivo, but its rhapsodic utterances in the first section erupt into lively passages. The quiet second group of themes is especially memorable for a sultry violin melody replete with glissandos (slides) and syncopated chordal accompaniment; a brief throaty folkish tune, alternating with a high violin melody (first in harmonics) with rippling piano accompaniment; and a slightly exotic tune with more glissandos. Following a return of opening materials, a frenzied buildup leads to a grand Gypsylike improvisation over repeated chords and an abrupt end. The capricious opening of the second movement reminds us of the commedia dell’arte figure of the Harlequin/Pierrot, which runs like a thread through all three late Sonatas—the earlier Cello Sonata was in fact once called Pierrot fâche avec la lune (Pierrot angered at the moon). In the present movement, which is to be played “with fantasy and lightness,” the motives and textures change with utmost flexibility. In contrast to the many delightful quicksilver gestures Debussy also offers an intriguing passage in which the haunting melody is doubled two octaves apart, accompanied all the while by insistent repeated treble chords. Emerging from an agitated piano opening, the violin’s first utterance in the Finale quotes the main theme of the first movement. Debussy colorfully noted the cyclic nature of this theme, saying that it “ultimately leaves the impression of an idea turning back upon itself, like a snake biting its own tail.” Improvisatory-sounding passages liven up the proceedings and again we hear a succession of variegated ideas, both fast and slow. One slow passage begins with a ringing low tone in the piano and a seductive violin melody again with glissandos. Several times his repeated-note accompaniment gives the impression of Spanish guitar figuration. A fascinating section near the end has the violin playing a high repeating pattern while the piano plays the melody in single notes, the whole interrupted twice with brilliant flourishes. A final wind-up produces wild trills in the violin, bold descending octaves in the piano, and one last impudent gesture. Cello Sonata Debussy wrote to his publisher on August 5, 1915, that he was pleased with the “proportions and almost classical form in the best sense of the word” of his Cello Sonata, adding later that cellists had been asking him to add such a work to their scant repertoire for a long time. The first performance took place not in Paris, as is often claimed, but in London, by cellist C. Warwick Evans and pianist Madame Alfred Hobday on March 4, 1916. Another performance followed five days later in Geneva by Léonce Allard and Marie Panthès. The Parisian performance often cited as the premiere did not take place until March 24, 1917, played by Joseph Salmon with Debussy himself at the piano. One of the work’s early performers, Louis Rosoor, printed the following in his programs, claiming to have gotten the description directly from the composer: “Pierrot [Harlequin] wakes up with a start and shakes off his stupor. He rushes off to sing a serenade to his beloved [the moon] who, despite his supplications, remains unmoved.” Debussy, however, complained bitterly to his publisher that the cellist had abused his confidence and it was no wonder his poor music was “so frequently misunderstood.” His protestations ultimately have the effect of corroborating Rosoor’s claim, suggesting that, as with many of the programmatic superscripts he attached to his works, the description did have some bearing on the piece, but that it was not only unnecessary for understanding the piece but might be misinterpreted. Our “musicien français” actually invoked the world of Couperin and Rameau in his Cello Sonata, which, despite his mention of “classical” forms, contains no sonata-form movement. The Prologue, in fact, alternates slow regal music reminiscent of the Baroque French-overture style with prelude-like improvisatory-sounding passages. The harmonies, however, are all Debussy’s. The Sérénade begins as if Pierrot (Harlequin) is tiptoeing to his beloved Colombine’s window. The cello’s constant pizzicato and periodic strumming seem to depict his guitar but also his antics. Debussy also calls for high harmonics, which give the cello a flutelike sound. Without pause the virtuoso finale takes off in a rush of figuration for the piano and a cello line whose sustained notes erupt into a folklike melody. Occasionally Debussy pauses the forward momentum for reflective, slightly exotic (Spanish-influenced?) passages and one particularly slow, soulful interlude, which make the surrounding activity sound that much more dizzying. An emphatic cello recitative and some forceful chords round off the piece. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

February 8, 2015 – David Finckel, cello; Wu Han, piano SERGEI PROKOFIEV (1891–1953) Sonata for Cello and Piano in C Major, Op. 119 (1949) February 8, 2015 – David Finckel, cello; Wu Han, piano In 1936, after nearly fifteen years spent living in Paris and traveling worldwide, Sergey Prokofiev, admittedly “patriotic and homesick” and longing to “see the real winter again and hear the Russian language in my ears,” moved back to the Soviet Union with his non-Russian wife and two sons. Relocating during one of the most savage political and social periods in Russian history, Prokofiev was set on establishing himself as one of Russia’s greatest composers. Rachmaninov had his hold on America, Stravinsky claimed Europe, and Shostakovich had just been censored by Stalin. Prokofiev kept his passport to tour without having to petition, but upon routine inspection it was confiscated without return, grounding Prokofiev in Moscow for the remainder of his life. The late 1930s saw very few public debuts of Prokofiev’s works, save the Cello Concerto op. 58 (1938) and Romeo and Juliet (1936), both met with negative criticism. In the years following World War II, seeking to recover the Soviet “socialist realism” ideal of art, Andrey Zhdanov, the leading Soviet cultural policy maker, passed a series of resolutions affecting literature, art, film, and finally, in 1948, music. This decree stunted artistic growth in the Soviet Union until Stalin’s death, lasting out the remaining years of Prokofiev’s life. The elderly composer grew ill and deeply insecure. Much of his work had been banned from public performance, and though still composing, he hardly was living the pampered lifestyle he had anticipated returning to Russia. Prokofiev’s Sonata for Cello and Piano, remarkably, was permitted by the Committee of Artistic Affairs to receive a public premiere. It was debuted in 1950 by cellist Mstislav Rostropovich and pianist Sviatsoslav Richter, with the first movement bearing the quote, “Mankind–that has a proud sound.” Despite the sheer horror that besieged Prokofiev at the time of the work’s composition, the work remains remarkably expressive. The first movement, marked Andante grave, opens with a resounding call by the cello, followed by a short call-and-response folk melody between the cello and piano. A throbbing interlude brings the main theme, a cheery and flippant duet. The movement slows as the cello rings out a beautiful harmonic cadence, and the second theme enters much more heavily mechanically than the first. The second movement, a playful Scherzo and Trio, follows suit. A percussive pizzicato entrance transmutes to a complacent romantic trio section. The final Allegro ma non tanto remains timid, with melodies and chordal structure based heavily on Russian folk music. The movement lacks not energy nor drive, yet each climax, rather than developing in timbre and expressive nature, actually becomes more simplistic; sometimes diminishing down to a single note piano melody. The coda recounts the opening resonant notes of the cello in a grand duet statement, marking a turbulent and virtuosic conclusion. ©2013 Andrew Goldstein Return to Parlance Program Notes

GOLDMUND STRING QUARTET Florian Schötz, violin 
 Pinchas Adt, violin 
 Christoph Vandory, viola 
 Raphael Paratore, cello The Goldmund Quartet is known to feature exquisite playing (Süddeutsche Zeitung) and such multi-layered homogeneity (Süddeutsche Zeitung) in its interpretations of the great classical and modern works of the quartet literature. Its inwardness, the unbelievably fine intonation and the phrases worked out down to the smallest detail inspire audiences worldwide. In keeping with the theme of their current CD "Travel Diaries", the past season was marked by international travel. The Quartet travelled to Colombia for the Cartagena Music Festival and toured the U.S. with stops in New York, Boston, Kansas, Tucson, Salt Lake City and Montreal. Back in Europe, their busy schedule took them to Italy, France, Sweden, the Netherlands and Denmark. The 2022/23 season features a firework display of musical highlights. A tour of Japan by invitation of the Nippon Foundation is followed by the Quartet's debut at Gewandhaus in Leipzig. Performances in Padova and at Teatro Reggio Emilia lead the Quartet to Italy while performances of Chausson's Sextet with violinist Noa Wildschut and pianist Elisabeth Brauss are scheduled in Holland and Belgium. In the second half of the season the Quartet follows invitations from Sociedad Filarmonica in Bilbao and the Hemsing Festival in Norway before concluding the season with recitals at Berlin Konzerthaus, Prinzregententheater Munich, Musikverein Graz, Mercatorhalle Duisburg, Mönchengladbach, Bensheim and the Marvão Festival in Portugal. The winners of the renowned 2018 International Wigmore Hall String Competition and the 2018 Melbourne International Chamber Music Competition have been selected by the European Concert Hall Organisation as Rising Stars of the 2019/20 season. Since 2019, they have been performing Antonio Stradivari's Paganini Quartet, provided by the Nippon Music Foundation. In addition, the quartet was awarded the Jürgen Ponto Foundation Music Prize in March 2020 and the Freiherr von Waltershausen Prize in December 2020. In 2016, the quartet was already a winner of the Bavarian Arts Promotion Prize and the Karl Klinger Prize of the ARD Competition. In 2020, Berlin Classics released "Travel Diaries", the Goldmund Quartet's third album with works by Wolfgang Rihm, Ana Sokolovic, Fazil Say and Dobrinka Tabakova, which Harald Eggebrecht described as "one of the liveliest and most stimulating string quartet CDs of recent times". (Süddeutsche Zeitung). Their Travel Diaries are the musical diary from their last decade together and a sound document that is both reflective and forward-looking. Chamber music partners include artists such as Jörg Widmann, Ksenija Sidorova, Alexander Krichel, Alexey Stadler and Wies de Boevé, Nino Gvetadze, Noa Wildschut, Elisabeth Brauss, Maximilian Hornung, Frank Dupree, Simon Höfele. In addition to studies at the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Munich and with members of the Alban Berg Quartet, including Günter Pichler at the Escuela Superior de Música Reina Sofia and the Artemis Quartet in Berlin, master classes and studies with members of the Hagen, Borodin, Belcea, Ysaye and Cherubini Quartets, Ferenc Rados, Eberhard Feltz and Alfred Brendel gave the quartet important musical impulses.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 2018 AT 8 PM CANDLELIT HAYDN: THE SEVEN LAST WORDS OF CHRIST BUY TICKETS CHIARA STRING QUARTET “The performances had shape and grace and ample room to breathe, but they never lacked mystery or intensity.” — The Boston Globe “The Chiara’s deeply personalized performance felt so vital” — The New York Times FEATURING ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS “Music is well said to be the speech of angels; in fact, nothing among utterances allowed to man is felt to be so divine. It brings us near the infinite.” — Thomas Carlyle Regardless of culture or style, music has always been experienced as a direct pathway to the spirit. In Haydn’s own description of his great wordless oratorio, he wrote, “Each movement is expressed by purely instrumental music in such a fashion that it produces the deepest impression in the soul of even the most uninstructed listener .” Haydn’s timeless masterpiece of spiritual music was conceived as a multimedia event combining special lighting, spoken words, and music. On Saturday , February 17 at at 8 PM the highly acclaimed Chiara String Quartet will recreate the candlelit ambience of the 1787 premiere in Cádiz’s Oratorio de la Santa Cueva. At 7:00 PM , Artistic Director Michael Parloff will introduce the work and its history in a half-hour multimedia preview. Haydn explained the origin of the work in the preface to the 1801 edition: “Some fifteen years ago I was requested by a canon of Cádiz to compose instrumental music on the Seven Last Words of Our Savior On the Cross. It was customary at the Cathedral of Cádiz to produce an oratorio every year during Lent, the effect of the performance being not a little enhanced by the following circumstances. The walls, windows, and pillars of the church were hung with black cloth, and only one large lamp hanging from the center of the roof broke the solemn darkness. At midday, the doors were closed and the ceremony began. After a short service the bishop ascended the pulpit, pronounced the first of the seven words (or sentences) and delivered a discourse thereon. This ended, he left the pulpit and fell to his knees before the altar. The interval was filled by music. The bishop then in like manner pronounced the second word, then the third, and so on, the orchestra following on the conclusion of each discourse. My composition was subject to these conditions, and it was no easy task to compose seven adagios lasting ten minutes each, and to succeed one another without fatiguing the listeners; indeed, I found it quite impossible to confine myself to the appointed limits.” — Franz Joseph Haydn PROGRAM Joseph Haydn The Seven Last Words of Christ for string quartet Program Notes Watch the Chiara String Quartet perform Ravel’s String Quartet (1st mvt) from memory: Watch Part 1 of Haydn’s Seven Last Words of Christ (Zemlinsky Quartet):