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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

SUNDAY, MAY 3, 2020 AT 3 PM PAUL HUANG AND DANBI UM, VIOLINS JUHO POHJONEN, PIANO BUY TICKETS DANBI UM, VIOLIN “Danbi Um’s playing is utterly dazzling…a marvelous show of superb technique” — The Strad JUHO POHJONEN, PIANO “Juho Pohjonen demonstrated his elegant musicianship, pearly touch, singing tone, and sensitivity throughout the program…everything about his recital was formidable” — The New York Times PAUL HUANG, VIOLIN FEATURING ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS Three of today’s most scintillating young will join forces in an eclectic program of rarely performed masterpieces. The concert will include exhilarating works by Beethoven, Erich Wolfgang Korngold, Pablo Sarasate, and a specially commissioned trio by the award-winning young American composer Chris Rogerson. PROGRAM Erich Wolfgang Korngold Suite from Much Ado about Nothing , Op. 11 Danbi Um, violin; Juho Pohjonen, piano Program Notes Moritz Moszkowski Suite for two violins and piano , Op. 71 Program Notes Ludwig van Beethoven Violin Sonata No. 8 in G Major, Op. 30, No. 3 Paul Huang, violin; Juho Pohjonen Program Notes Chris Rogerson New Work for two violins and piano Program Notes Amy Barlowe Hebrew Elegy for two violins Paul Huang and Danbi Um, violins Program Notes Pablo Sarasate Navarra, Op. 33 for two violins and piano Program Notes Watch violinists Paul Huang and Danbi Um perform Sarasate’s Navarra: Watch pianist Juho Pohjonen play Rameau’s Keyboard Suite No. 2:

October 29, 2017: Peter Serkin, piano WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) Adagio in B minor, K. 540 October 29, 2017: Peter Serkin, piano According to his own catalog, Mozart completed the Adagio, K. 540, on March 19, 1788. Two weeks earlier he had completed the last of his arias for sister-in-law Aloysia Weber, “Ah se in ciel,” K. 538, and the previous month the Piano Concerto in D major, K. 537, “Coronation,” but he was chiefly occupied by thoughts of the impending Vienna premiere of his opera Don Giovanni on May 7 that year. No specific event appears to have prompted the composition of this exquisite, solitary slow movement for piano, though its ending in B major has invited speculation that he may have intended it for a sonata in E minor. Distinguished English musicologist Arthur Hutchings deemed the Adagio Mozart’s finest single piano work and eminent Mozart scholar Alfred Einstein considered it “one of the most perfect, most deeply felt, and most despairing of all his works.” Had it found a place in a complete sonata it would no doubt have received the larger number of performances it merits. The Adagio displays the elegant simplicity that imparts poignance to so many of Mozart’s slow movements. Here sudden changes of dynamics and register supply drama. The movement follows sonata-form of the binary type, in which the second half containing the development and recapitulation is proportionally equal to the exposition. Mozart adds florid elaboration to the short coda, which ends serenely in B major. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

April 24, 2022 – Marc-André Hamlein, piano LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) Piano Sonata No. 29 in B-flat major, Op. 106 “Hammerklavier“ April 24, 2022 – Marc-André Hamlein, piano In the spirit of nationalism that erupted following the Napoleonic wars in Germany, Beethoven wrote to his publisher on January 23, 1817: “Henceforth all our works that have German titles are to have the name “Hammerklavier” instead of “pianoforte.” The composer also suggested the subtitle for his Opus 101 and 109 Sonatas, but in a curious twist of history only the famous Opus 106 Sonata became known by the designation—and that as a nickname rather than an indication of genre. During the Sonata’s composition in 1817–18 Beethoven was plagued by custody and care issues relating to his nephew Karl and by his own continued ill health. Nevertheless, he had entered his late composing phase, concentrating on one particular work at a time as if to wring the utmost from a genre in expression, intellectual exploration, and aesthetic depth. The Hammerklavier, Missa solemnis, Diabelli Variations, and Ninth Symphony all fit this mold. The Hammerklavier, with its powerful investigation of sonata form and fugue, represents a curious oasis between the daring formal experiments of the piano and cello sonatas immediately preceding and the Piano Sonatas, op. 109–111, that would soon follow. For the first time since his Sonata, op. 31, no. 3, Beethoven writes in the four-movement Classical mold, and yet he expands and explores the traditional forms to a radical extent. The first movement contains one of his longest development sections—replete with a fugal expanse—and his relatively short Scherzo nevertheless sports two trios. Following his slow movement, which is his longest, his fugal finale is positively massive—a precursor to his celebrated Grosse Fuge, originally the finale of his Opus 130 Quartet in the same key of B-flat. Many commentators, led by the distinguished Charles Rosen, have commented on the structural and thematic importance of descending thirds and on the clash of B-flat and B-natural in various harmonic contexts. These unifying threads permeate the composition in a much more profound way than a simple cyclic quotation of one movement in another. The striking chordal opening with its initial leap and distinctive rhythm shows the importance of the interval of the third, but the exuberant gesture also refers to Archduke Rudolph, the work’s dedicatee. The same idea appears in a sketch with the words “vivat, vivat Rudolphus.” A further “Archduke” connection involves the present first movement and that of the Archduke Trio. During the course of their similar harmonic schemes, both descend to the exotic G major for the second subject and employ chains of descending thirds in the development. The relatively brief scherzo adopts the first movement’s rising and falling thirds and warring B-flats and B-naturals but with a comic flair. Beethoven’s ending is a masterpiece of self-mockery—a jab at the weighty conflict between these two adversaries in his first movement. Beethoven added the two-note rising third that opens his slow movement at the proofing stage. This may lessen the shock of the movement’s distant tonality (F-sharp minor), but only by creating a bit of ambiguity before the first full chord. We listen raptly to the contemplative mood, the delicate ornamentation preceding the second theme, the variation of the first theme in the recapitulation, the ensuing unexpected harmonic journey, and the exquisitely simple version of the theme in the coda, but words fail to convey the profound effect of this movement. In the same way that Beethoven audibly searches for how to express the Ode to Joy in the last movement of his Ninth Symphony, here in his Hammerklavier finale he “finds his way” toward the monumental fugue by “trying out” several styles. A decisive leap recalls the opening of the first movement and launches the main fugue subject. He then displays his subject in all its academic permutations—augmentation, retrograde with a new countersubject, inversion—and with the original subject heard simultaneously with its inversion. But instead of pedantic logic he achieves drama and poetry through varied textures, harmonies, and pianistic colors, and mind-boggling manipulation of tension and release. He creates something entirely new out of the genre, remarkably superimposing elements of variation and rondo form on his fugue. The Hammerklavier Sonata has always stood out for its monumental proportions and its demands on the performer and listener alike. Beethoven was fully aware of its challenges when he told his publisher in 1819: “Now there you have a sonata that will keep the pianists busy when it is played fifty years hence.” © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

ISABEL LEONARD, MEZZO-SOPRANO Highly acclaimed for her “passionate intensity and remarkable vocal beauty,” Isabel Leonard continues to thrill audiences both at home in the United States and internationally. She is the recipient of the prestigious 2013 Richard Tucker Award from the Richard Tucker Music Foundation. In the 2013–2014 season, Isabel Leonard returned to the Metropolitan Opera as Doraballa in Così fan tutte under James Levine, which was also an HD broadcast in the spring of 2014. Ms. Leonard makes her highly-awaited debuts at the San Francisco Opera and the Lyric Opera of Chicago, both as Rosina in Il barbiere di Siviglia. She also debuts at the Dallas Opera as Rosina. In concert, she will appear alongside other opera luminaries at Carnegie Hall’s Marilyn Horne Song Celebration and with Nathan and Julie Gunn at the Krannert Center at the University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana. Metropolitan Opera audiences recently heard Ms. Leonard in two important role debuts during the 2012–2013 season: Miranda in Ades’s The Tempest and as Blanche in John Dexter’s ground-breaking production of Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites. She also appeared in the English version of The Barber of Seville, which was broadcast internationally in HD. Last season also brought another important role and company debut as Sesto in Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito at the Canadian Opera Company. In recital, Ms. Leonard was featured in her Zankel Hall recital debut at Carnegie Hall. She also appeared at the University of Notre Dame, Isabelle Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, San Francisco Performances, and at Atlanta’s Spivey Hall to rave reviews. She debuted Berlioz’s Les nuits d’été with the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra under Edo de Waart and closed the season in Japan at the Saito Kinen Festival, where she performed the title role in L’enfant et les sortilèges and Concepcion in Ravel’s L’heure espagnole with Seiji Ozawa conducting. In recent seasons, Ms. Leonard has appeared as Dorabella in Cosi fan tutte, Cherubino in Le nozze di Figaro, Zerlina in Don Giovanni, and Rosina in Il barbiere di Siviglia, all at the Metropolitan Opera; as Sesto in Laurent Pelly’s production of Giulio Cesare at Opéra National de Paris with Emmanuel Haim conducting and as Cherubino; the Glyndebourne Festival as Cherubino in the new Michael Grandage production of Le Nozze di Figaro; and the Vienna State Opera as Rosina in Il barbiere di Siviglia and Cherubino in Le nozze di Figaro. She made a sensational role debut as Ruggiero in the new David Alden production of Handel’s Alcina at Opera National de Bordeaux and her interpretation of Costanza in the Peter Sellars production of Vivaldi’s Griselda at the Santa Fe Opera was met with the highest critical and audience acclaim. Other notable engagements have included the title role in Offenbach’s La Périchole at Opéra National de Bordeaux, where she also made her European and professional stage debut as Zerlina in Don Giovanni, Cherubino at the Bavarian State Opera in Munich, and Dorabella in a new production of Mozart’s Così fan tutte at the Salzburg Festival directed by Claus Guth, which was telecast live internationally. Ms. Leonard made her Metropolitan Opera debut as Stéphano in Roméo et Juliette conducted by Plácido Domingo. This production was recorded for DVD release and broadcast live in HD. She has appeared as Rosina in Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia with Opera Colorado; in the title role of Rossini’s La Cenerentola at the Fort Worth Opera; as Zerlina in Don Giovanni with Chicago Opera Theater; as Cherubino in a new production of Le nozze di Figaro at the Santa Fe Opera; and made her professional U.S. opera debut as Stéphano in Atlanta Opera’s production of Roméo et Juliette. Ms. Leonard made her New York Philharmonic debut in Ravel’s L’enfant et les sortilèges conducted by Lorin Maazel, and her American orchestral debut in The Three-Cornered Hat with the Boston Symphony Orchestra at the Tanglewood Festival under Gustavo Dudamel. Other concert engagements include Mozart’s “Ch’io mi scordi di te?” with the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, de Falla’s Siete canciones populares españolas with Gustavo Dudamel, and the Los Angeles Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl, Mozart’s Exsultate, jubilate and Mahler’s Symphony No. 4. with the St. Louis Symphony, Mozart’s Mass in C minor with Esa-Pekka Salonen, and Berlioz’s Roméo et Juliette under Valery Gergiev, both with the Chicago Symphony, Cherubino in a concert version of Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro with the Cleveland Orchestra conducted by Franz Welser-Möst, and Berlioz’s Roméo et Juliette with James Conlon in her debut at the Cincinnati May Festival. Ms. Leonard is in constant demand as a recitalist, having made her first coast-to-coast recital tour in the 2007–08 season in Atlanta, Washington, D.C., San Francisco, Fort Worth and ending with her Carnegie Hall debut at Weill Recital Hall. She has appeared as a guest soloist in the Marilyn Horne Foundation’s 75th Birthday Gala in Carnegie Hall and was featured in a solo recital as part of the Foundation’s On Wings of Song series in New York City. Ms. Leonard has also performed with soprano Barbara Bonney in recital at Alice Tully Hall presented by the Lincoln Center Chamber Music Society Ms. Leonard is the recipient of numerous prestigious awards which include the Beverly Sills Award (2011), the Richard Gold Award of the Shoshana Foundation (2007), a Licia Albanese-Puccini Foundation Award (2006), the William Schuman Graduation Prize of the Juilliard School (2006), the Makiko Narumi Prize of the Juilliard School (2005), the Marilyn Horne Foundation Award of the Music Academy of the West (2005), and was a winner of the Giulio Gari Competition (2005). Isabel Leonard is a native New Yorker and received both her Bachelor and Masters of Music at The Juilliard School.

SUNDAY, APRIL 23, 2017 AT 3 PM Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano; Warren Jones, piano BUY TICKETS WARREN JONES, PIANO “His playing was a marvel, as always.” – San Francisco Chronicle ISABEL LEONARD, MEZZO-SOPRANO “Isabel Leonard sings with beguiling tenderness in moments of composure, but her voice throbs with penetrating intensity.’ – The New York Times FEATURING ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS On April 23 , Parlance’s 10th-anniversary season will arrive at a celebratory conclusion with the return of the Met’s ravishing mezzo-soprano Isabel Leonard , one of the most charismatic and fast-rising vocal stars of our time. Her sold-out Parlance debut in 2014-15 was one of the highlights of our past seasons. Isabel will be joined by the masterful collaborative pianist Warren Jones , a great favorite of our audience since his debut appearance in the winter of 2008. Don’t miss this glittering final event of Parlance Chamber Concert’s 10th-Anniversary season! PROGRAM Hector Berlioz Les nuits d’été Program Notes Jules Massenet The Letter Scene from Werther Program Notes Jules Massenet Va! Laisse couler mes larmes from Werther Program Notes Frédéric Chopin Four Mazurkas, Op. 67 for piano Program Notes Enrique Granados Canciones amatorias Program Notes Gioachino Rossini Canzonetta spagnuola Program Notes Isabel Leonard performs Rosina’s aria from Rossini’s Barber of Seville: Isabel Leonard performs Cherubino’s aria from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro: Isabel Leonard performs Falla’s Polo on Parlance Chamber Concerts:

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

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

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December 15, 2019: Benjamin Beilman, violin; Andrew Tyson, piano IGOR STRAVINSKY (1882–1971) Suite Italienne December 15, 2019: Benjamin Beilman, violin; Andrew Tyson, piano The ballet Pulcinella, from which the Suite italienne was drawn, was Stravinsky’s first Neoclassic—or rather “neo-Baroque”—composition. He had been approached by impresario Sergei Diaghilev in 1919 about writing an entirely different kind of ballet than the dramatically innovative Firebird (1910), Petrushka (1911), and Rite of Spring (1913). Diaghilev had in mind the recent success of Vincenzo Tommasini’s The Good-humored Ladies, based on harpsichord sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti, and asked Stravinsky to consider works by another eighteenth-century Italian, Giovanni Battista Pergolesi. Stravinsky thought Diaghilev had gone mad, but agreed to look at his selections. “I looked and I fell in love,” Stravinsky later recalled. Scholars have more recently questions Pergolesi’s authorship of some of these pieces, but they nevertheless provided a turning point for Stravinsky. “Pulcinella was my discovery of the past, the epiphany through which the whole of my late works became possible,” he wrote in Dialogues and a Diary. Diaghilev’s conception called for the dancers to take on the roles of eighteenth-century commedia dell’arte characters, and Stravinsky came up with twenty numbers to fit Diaghilev’s scenario. Retaining most of the original melodies and bass lines from the “Pergolesi” selections, Stravinsky provided more pungent harmonies, ostinato patterns, and slightly uneven phrase lengths. His original score called for an eighteenth-century-sized orchestra with concertino and ripieno parts, as in a concerto grosso, and three vocalists singing from the pit. Alarming differences of opinion among Diaghilev, Picasso (scenery and costume designer), Massine (choreographer and lead dancer), and the composer threatened the production, but the result, first performed at the Paris Opera House on May 15, 1920, apparently satisfied all those involved. An overwhelming popular success, Pulcinella nevertheless elicited criticism of Stravinsky’s new style as pastiche, too simple, and worst of all, a renunciation of his Russian heritage. History has proved otherwise. Like most worthwhile ballet music, Pulcinella also became a concert-hall favorite in many different arrangements: an eleven-movement orchestral suite (c. 1922); a five-movement version entitled Suite for violin and piano, after themes, fragments, and pieces by Giambattista Pergolesi (1925) for violinist Paul Kochánski; the five-movement Suite italienne for cello and piano (1932), arranged with the help of cellist Gregor Piatigorsky; and the present six-movement Suite italienne for violin and piano (1932) in collaboration with violinist Samuel Dushkin, for whom Stravinsky also wrote the Violin Concerto. The violin version of the Suite italienne contains the mock pompous Introduzione, which served as Pulcinella’s overture (originally the first movement of a trio sonata); the charming, slightly melancholy Serenata, a tenor solo in the ballet (based on a tenor aria in the opera Il flaminio, 1735); and the lively Tarantella (originally the third movement of a trio sonata). The Gavotta con due variazioni follows (originally from the first set of Eight Lessons for the Harpsichord). The fifth movement, Scherzino, absent from the 1925 violin suite, was a presto tenor solo in Pulcinella (originally from the Overture to Act III of Lo frate ’nnamorato, 1732). The final movement contains both a stylized minuet and a brilliant finale (originally a canzona from Lo frate ’nnamorato and the third movement of another trio sonata, respectively). © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

DENIS BOURIAKOV, FLUTE - 2010 Principal Flute of the Metropolitan Opera, Denis Bouriakov enjoys one of the fastest growing careers in the flute world. He has won prizes in many of the most important international competitions, including the Jean-Pierre Rampal, the Munich ARD, the Prague Spring, the Carl Nielsen, and the Kobe competitions. Bouriakov looks outside the standard flute repertoire for works that allow the flute to shine. In addition to having a phenomenal virtuoso technique, he is continually transcribing and performing violin concertos and sonatas, expanding the limits of flute technique and artistry. Mr. Bouriakov released his first solo CD in 2009, which includes the Sibelius Violin Concerto in his own arrangement. He has also recorded the Bach Concerto for 2 Violins in d minor with flutist William Bennett and the English Chamber Orchestra. His anticipated 2012 CD, recorded in Japan, will include works by Copland, Debussy, Boehm, Jolivet and Prokofiev. Bouriakov has performed worldwide as a soloist with many orchestras, including the Moscow Philharmonic, the Prague Chamber Orchestra, the Ensemble of Tokyo, the Odense Symphony, the Munich Chamber Orchestra, the Ensemble of Paris and the Tampere Philharmonic Orchestra. Denis Bouriakov was born in Crimea (now the Ukraine). At the age of ten, he was given a place at the Moscow Central Special Music School, where he studied with Professor Y.N. Dolzhikov. With the support of the ”New Names” International Charity Foundation and the Vladimir Spivakov Foundation, he toured as soloist to over 20 countries in Europe, Asia, South America, and the USA. He went on to attend the Royal Academy of Music in London, studying with Professor William Bennett (OBE). His graduation in 2001 was accompanied by the “Principal’s Award”, the diploma for Outstanding Recital, and the Teaching Fellowship Award for the following year. In 2006, the Academy awarded him the title of ARAM, Associate of the Royal Academy of Music. While in London, Bouriakov freelanced as principal flute with the Philharmonia of London, the LPO, Leeds Opera North and the Frankfurt Radio Symphony. Bouriakov’s first position was Principal Flute with the Tampere Philharmonic in Finland, where he also taught at the Tampere Conservatory of Music for 3 years. In 2008, he was appointed Principal Flute with the Barcelona Symphony under Eiji Oue. Later that year he won the Principal Flute position in the Metropolitan Opera in New York. Mr. Bouriakov is very active as a soloist, orchestra player and teacher; his recent engagements have included recitals and master classes in Europe, Asia, USA and Australia.