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

September 29, 2024: Carter Brey, cello; Jeewon Park, piano Frederic Chopin (1810-1849) Polonaise Brillante in C, Op. 3 for cello and piano September 29, 2024: Carter Brey, cello; Jeewon Park, piano In October 1829 Chopin spent a delightful week at Antonin, Prince Radziwill’s estate in the principality of Poznan. While he was there he composed his Polonaise brillante for the cello-playing prince to play with his pianist daughter, Princess Wanda. The young composer wrote to his good friend Tytus Woyciechowski in November: While I was there I wrote an Alla Polacca with violoncello. It is nothing but glitter, for the drawing room, for the ladies; you see I wanted Princess Wanda to learn it. I had been giving her lessons. She is quite young: 17, and pretty; really it was a joy to guide her little fingers. But joking aside, she has a lot of real musical feeling; one did not have to say: crescendo here, piano there; now faster, now slower, and so on. Then on a visit to Vienna in 1830, Chopin decided to add an introduction to the Polonaise for cellist Joseph Merk. Our genius composer wrote home ingenuously in May 1831: “Merk tells me that he likes playing with me, and I like playing with him, so together we must produce something good. He is the first cellist whom I can admire on closer acquaintance.” When the Introduction and Polonaise brillante was published in Vienna in 1831, Chopin dedicated the work to Merk. Chopin clearly recognized the popular style of his earliest cello piece, but the “glitter” is charming nonetheless and the piece easily made its way from the drawing-room to the concert hall. Moreover, the experience gave him a feeling for the cello—the only instrument featured in all four of his chamber works. In the Introduction, piano flourishes initiate the strains of a mournful melody for the cello, leading to a nocturne-like episode and further rumination before the heroic Polonaise enters with its characteristic rhythm. Chopin provides a wealth of pianistic figuration to embellish the basic melodic line, concluding in a spate of animated display. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

September 18, 2022: Elaine Douvas, oboe; Joel Noyes, cello; Bryan Wagorn, piano HENRI BROD (1799 – 1839) Duo from Lucia di Lammermoor, Op. 55 for oboe and cello & piano accompaniment September 18, 2022: Elaine Douvas, oboe; Joel Noyes, cello; Bryan Wagorn, piano Henri Brod began studying oboe at the Paris Conservatory at the age of twelve. After receiving the Premier Prix in 1818, he was appointed second oboe in the Paris Opéra orchestra alongside his teacher, Gustav Vogt. Brod filled in as first oboist during Vogt’s absences and succeeded him in 1834. Contemporary accounts often compare the two players—the famous French musicologist and encyclopedist François-Joseph Fétis wrote: “The sound he drew from the oboe was sweeter, smoother and not as forceful as that of his teacher; his phrasing was elegant and graceful; his execution of the virtuosic passages was lively and brilliant.” Brod’s career was all too short—he died just three months short of his fortieth birthday, when he would have received a pension that would have supported his wife and young son. In another facet of his career, Brod, along with his brother Jean-Godefroy, was an innovative oboe maker, possibly the first in France to add the octave key and to extend the oboe’s range. He also developed a straight English horn as well as baritone and “petit” oboes, and he invented a gouging machine for making reeds. In addition, he is the author of an informative method book in two volumes (1826, 1835), of which at least the first is still readily available in an edition by Valerie Anderson. As with many performing composers, Brod wrote mainly for his own instrument—opera fantasies, variations, and chamber works such as wind quintets and trios, as well as six oboe sonatas that were among the works he published in his method book. He also composed an opera, Thésée, presumed lost, which was rejected for performance in 1826 but received a partial performance in 1837. A complete list of his works has yet to be made. Brod’s Duo from Lucia di Lammermoor (or Lucia ed Edgardo, duo de Lucia di Lamermoor de Donizetti arrangé pour hautbois ou clarinette et basson ou violoncelle avec accompaniment de piano, op. 55, as its original title reads) likely dates from around 1837, when Donizetti’s successful 1835 opera was first performed in France. No doubt Brod gave its first performance with some of his Paris Opéra/Conservatory colleagues. The duo appeared in print in 1841, two years after his death. The original title, Lucia ed Edgardo, is apt because the piece is essentially an arrangement of their extended duet from Act I, Scene 2, with the bassoon taking the role of Edgardo, laird of Ravenswood, and the oboe that of Lucia Ashton. The story, set in Scotland, revolves around the love affair they are carrying on despite the bitter feud between their two families. Before the tragic events of her madness and both their deaths, Edgardo meets Lucia secretly to say that he must leave for France, and he wants to make peace with her brother Enrico so he can ask for her hand in marriage. She begs Edgardo to keep their relationship secret, which rekindles his anger against Enrico. This is the point at which the Duo picks up the story. After the three instruments provide a portentous introduction, Lucia (oboe) tries to calm Edgardo (bassoon), but he begins singing mournfully about the tomb of his betrayed father on which he swore revenge. She tries again to calm him and tells him to banish all feelings but love. After a grand pause, a martial-sounding section signals Edgardo’s resolve as he hits on the idea of marrying her on the spot. They exchange rings and call on heaven to witness their vows. The lovers must part, which brings on a wistful mood, and the final section lilts as they sing of the breeze that will carry their ardent sighs. Brod caps the piece with a virtuoso coda of his own design. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

October 17, 2021: Escher String Quartet JOSEPH HAYDN (1732-1809) String Quartet in B-flat, Op. 76, No. 4 (“Sunrise”) October 17, 2021: Escher String Quartet When Count Joseph Erdödy commissioned the Opus 76 Quartets in 1796, Haydn had recently returned to Vienna from the second of his highly successful London visits. He had always composed with confidence, but a certain new boldness in his style may have come from the realization that the entire Western world considered him the greatest living composer. The six “Erdödy” Quartets show formal experiments (continued, as mentioned above, in his Opus 77 quartets) both within or instead of sonata-form movements, a new profundity in their extremely slow-paced Adagios, fast “modern” minuets—scherzos in all but name—and more weight and novel tonal approaches in their finales. In June 1797 Haydn played some or all of the quartets on the piano for Swedish diplomat Frederik Silverstolpe, who considered them “more than masterly and full of new thoughts.” The Quartets were completed in time for a September 1797 performance at Eisenstadt as part of the grand festivities surrounding the visit of the Viceroy of Hungary, Palatine Archduke Joseph. Count Erdödy’s rights to the Quartets precluded their being published until 1799. That year English music historian Charles Burney wrote to Haydn that he “never received more pleasure from instrumental music: [the Quartets] are full of invention, fire, good taste, and new effects.” The B-flat major Quartet exudes the composer’s supreme confidence and originality: in one of the greatest openings in chamber music, the lovely first violin melody rises out of a chord sustained by the three lower instruments in a wonderful sunrise effect that earned the Quartet its nickname. Several commentators have remarked on the feeling of growth that this idea initiates in the movement. The continuation of the main theme brings great contrast with an energetic idea that fosters all the fiery passages in the movement, including the remarkable fortissimo bursts that close the exposition and recapitulation. The second theme uses the “sunrise” idea of the opening but in a kind of mirror image—the cello plays a winding descent as the others sustain the chord. Throughout the movement one hears the kind of mastery that so impressed Beethoven as he began writing string quartets with his Opus 18 series. Haydn’s Adagio somberly explores the possibilities of its first five notes. For a major-mode movement, this is one of the most dark-hued in the repertoire and seems to create a direct link with the poetic slow movements of Beethoven’s later quartets. Delicate filigree erupts not merrily but poignantly and the great downward leaps at the ends of sections seem to release but not totally relieve built-up tension. The second half, which begins like the opening, exaggerates these qualities with more filigree and wider plunges. For his fast Menuetto Haydn takes a little repeated two-note slur and fashions two entire sections from it. The second much longer section includes a varied return to the first, signaled by the little repeated slur in the cello—a nice bit of humor. Partway through this return, the focus again shifts briefly to the cello, soon followed by the viola. The Menuetto ends with another subtle touch of humor as twice the upward arpeggio fails to resolve in its own register. The contrasting trio evokes a truly rustic atmosphere with its folklike drones in the manner of a musette or bagpipes. The finale is a little masterpiece based on what some suspect is an English folk tune heard on his travels, but which he treats to sophisticated bits of contrapuntal and rhythmic manipulations. The matching first and third sections surround a no less jolly minor-mode section that contains several impish surprises. Following the return of the opening section Haydn takes us on an extended whirlwind ride, suddenly picking up speed only to shift to yet a higher speed for a virtuosic thrill. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

March 6, 2016: The Escher String Quartet WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) String Quartet in D major, K. 575, “Prussian No. 1” March 6, 2016: The Escher String Quartet The String Quartet in D major, K. 575, is the first of the three Prussian Quartets—the last string quartets Mozart ever wrote. In April of 1789 he had left Vienna for Potsdam with his pupil, Prince Karl Lichnowsky (later Beethoven’s patron), who was to introduce him to King Friedrich Wilhelm II of Prussia. The king, like his flutist/composer uncle, King Friedrich Wilhelm I, and his pianist/composer cousin, Prince Louis Ferdinand, was a great music lover—his instrument was the cello. Mozart hoped the visit would result in some financial gain, but all he received was a small amount of money and a commission to compose “six easy clavier sonatas for Princess Friederike and six quartets for the king.” When Mozart got back to Vienna his situation was no better. He was constantly begging money from friends, who this time did not answer his requests; his wife fell seriously ill; and he himself was suffering from rheumatism, toothaches, headaches, and insomnia. He composed one quartet, K. 575 in D major, but waited almost a year before adding two more, K. 589 in B-flat major and K. 590 in F major. He never wrote the other three, nor did he complete the set of sonatas for the princess. He sold the three quartets to a publisher “for a mockery of a fee, only to lay my hands on some money to keep myself going.” In order to highlight the king’s instrument, Mozart wrote significant cello parts in high register, which he balanced with soloistic opportunities for the other instruments—a style called “quatuor concertant,” which was particularly popular in Paris. Here in the D major Quartet Mozart featured solo cello writing in all movements, whereas in the second quartet the cello comes to the fore only in the first two movements and in the third primarily in the first movement. It seems the image of the cello-playing king receded as time went on. Mozart chose the relaxed tempo marking “Allegretto” for three of the D major Quartet’s movements. He emphasizes the opening movement’s delicate quality by giving the rare directive “sotto voce” (in an undertone, subdued) at the outset and at the start of the recapitulation. The first violin, then viola, present the main theme, with equal prominence given to the cello when it enters with the second theme in high register. Mozart marks this “dolce” (sweetly), another of his exceptional directives. The Andante, his only non-Allegretto movement, is only moderately slow—a walking tempo—further minimizing the tempo contrast between movements. His lovely melody bears enough similarity to his 1785 song “Das Veilchen” (The violet) to have given that nickname to the Quartet on occasion. The arching phrases in the middle section of this A-B-A form also feature the cello as an equal conversationalist. An introductory ornament and light staccato repeated notes, both essential thematic elements, give verve to this elegant Menuetto. The cello particularly comes to the fore in the middle trio section, presenting a singing melody in response to the violins’ lightly tripping invitation. The cheerful finale combines both sonata and rondo form with a recurring main theme introduced by the cello with viola counterpoint. Many commentators have pointed out the similarity of the main idea to the that of the first movement, suggesting a possible anticipation of Romantic composers’ interest in cyclic unity. Mozart’s astounding but seemingly effortless contrapuntal writing throughout the movement makes refrains, episodes, and development alike a witty and elegant experience. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

Elmar Oliviera, violin Elmar Oliveira is an American violinist whose remarkable combination of impeccable artistry and old-world elegance sets him apart as one of our most celebrated living artists. Oliveira remains the first and only American violinist to win the Gold Medal at Moscow's prestigious Tchaikovsky International Competition. He was the first violinist to receive the coveted Avery Fisher Prize and won First Prize at the Naumburg International Competition. Son of Portuguese immigrants, Oliveira was nine when he began studying the violin with his brother, John Oliveira and then attended the Hartt College of Music and the Manhattan School of Music. He holds honorary doctorates from both the Manhattan School of Music and Binghamton University. In 1997, the Prime Minister of Portugal awarded Elmar the country's highest civilian accolade, The Order of Santiago. Photo by Tucker Densley Oliveira has performed regularly at many of the most prestigious international concert venues. He has appeared with such esteemed Symphony Orchestras of Boston, Chicago, Cleveland, Colorado, Detroit, Philadelphia, St. Louis, San Francisco, and Seattle, as well as the Philharmonics of Helsinki, London, Los Angeles, New York, and the Leipzig Gewandhaus and Zürich Tonhalle, among many others. He has also made extensive recital tours of North and South America, Australia, New Zealand and the Far East. Oliveira’s discography on Artek, Angel, SONY Masterworks, Vox, Delos, IMP, Naxos, Ondine and Melodiya ranges widely from Bach and Vivaldi to contemporary works that are swiftly becoming pillars of the violin repertoire. His best-selling recording of the Rautavaara Violin Concerto with the Helsinki Philharmonic won a Cannes Classical Award and was chosen as Gramophone's "Editor's Choice." He also received Grammy nominations for his recordings of both the Barber Concerto with Leonard Slatkin and the Saint Louis Symphony and the Bloch and Benjamin Lees Violin Concertos under the baton of John McGlaughlin Williams. Other recording highlights include the Brahms and Saint-Saëns concertos with Gerard Schwarz and the Seattle Symphony, the Joachim Concerto with the London Philharmonic, the complete Brahms sonatas with Jorge Federico Osorio, and the rarely heard Respighi and Pizzetti sonatas with pianist Robert Koenig. Two projects of particular historical significance: The Miracle Makers: Stradivari · Guarneri · Oliveira, a coffee-table sized book and three-CD set which compares and contrasts thirty exquisite violins by Antonio Stradivari and Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesù; and a release of short pieces highlighting the Library of Congress Collection of rare violins on Biddulph Recordings, speak to Oliveira’s extreme dedication to preserving and highlighting the violin and critical makers of the past as well as those that are important to the development of the instrument today. In 2016 Elmar Oliveira announced the creation of the Elmar Oliveira International Violin Competition. This competition - that takes place every three years - is open to any violinist of any nationality between the ages of 16-32 and offers critical career support in the form of artist management and public relations as well as cash prizes. The Inaugural competition took place at the Lynn Conservatory of Music, where Elmar Oliveira is Distinguished Artist-in-Residence, January 23 - February 5, 2017. The next competition will be held in January 2020. For more detailed information, please visit the web site www.elmaroliveiraivc.org . Additionally, Elmar Oliveira has founded the John Oliveira String Competition, an internal competition at the Lynn Conservatory of Music. The annual competition is open to all string students at the school. The competition was founded in memory of Elmar Oliveira's late brother, violinist John Oliveira. For more information, please visit www.john-oliveira.com . Oliveira Oliveira is passionate about expanding the role and repertoire of the violin as well as championing contemporary music and unjustly neglected works. He is a devoted teacher and promoter of young artists, and also keenly supports the art of contemporary violin and bow making.

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

April 8, 2018: Danish String Quartet LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) String Quartet in F, Op. 59, No. 1 April 8, 2018: Danish String Quartet Beethoven composed his three Quartets, op. 59, in 1805–06 for the Russian ambassador in Vienna, Count Andreas Kyrilovich Razumovsky. The count was an excellent amateur violinist, who played second violin in his own house string quartet, except when Louis Sina stepped in so he could sit back and listen. His first violinist was the illustrious Ignaz Schuppanzigh, whom Beethoven had known since 1794 and who premiered many of the composer’s works. The three Razumovsky Quartets represent an entirely different world than Beethoven’s six early Quartets, op. 18, published only four years before. In between he had written his never-mailed letter, the heartrending “Heiligenstädt Testament,” which dealt with the anguish of his deafness and solitude, and had composed such innovative new works as the Eroica Symphony, the Appassionata Piano Sonata, and the first version of his opera Fidelio . His radical new style, with its expanded sonata forms, epic themes, complexities, and individualities, met with hostility and derision from early performers and critics. “Perhaps no work of Beethoven’s,” wrote his famed early biographer Alexander Wheelock Thayer, “met a more discouraging reception from musicians than these now famous Quartets.” The first movement of the present F major Razumovsky Quartet is remarkable for its lush expansiveness. This is already apparent in Beethoven’s first theme, which unfolds lyrically in the cello over pulsing repeated-note accompaniment, then is taken over by the first violin. The shift in register is something that he explores throughout the work and is one aspect, in addition to length, that gives such a spacious impression. Once this theme peaks, Beethoven instantly changes texture and introduces several new ideas before moving on to his new key area. When the composer eventually launches what sounds like a repeat of the exposition, he suddenly shoots off in another direction, a grand deception clearly playing on the listener’s expectation of that repeat. A famous “first” in the annals of sonata-form, this “non-repeat” considerably alters the structure of the first movement by making it one long sweep and shifting a greater proportion of time and weight onto the development section. Beethoven takes full advantage of the space he created for development by indulging in contrasts of register, new figuration, tension-building, fugal writing, and a mysterious and enormous preparation for the onset of the recapitulation. Beethoven labeled his second movement “Allegretto vivace e sempre scherzando” rather than calling it a scherzo outright, perhaps because he ingeniously adopts a full-fledged sonata form instead of the traditional scherzo-trio-scherzo or five-fold expansion of that form. Placed second rather than in the more typical third spot in the sequence of movements, this extraordinary scherzo ranks as Beethoven’s most original in form. Again, expansiveness is the ruling feature of the movement, which grows out of the distinctive repeated-note rhythmic pattern of the opening. This idea generates a remarkable number of miniature themes, which Beethoven treats in wonderfully airy “scherzando” textures. The composer uses the relatively rare description “mesto” (mournful) in his performance direction for his slow movement, thereby acknowledging its tragic qualities. It was here in his sketches that he made the strange notation: “A weeping willow or acacia on my brother’s grave.” He may have been referring to his distress at his brother Caspar Carl’s marriage to Johanna Reiss, who was six months pregnant, or remembering another brother who died in infancy, but the main melody, featuring the first violin and then the cello in high register, is certainly an expressive lament. The movement closes with a florid cadenza for the first violin, in which the darkness seems to dissipate and which leads directly into the finale, a device Beethoven had explored in other middle-period works. Beethoven incorporated a Russian theme into each of the first two Razumovsky Quartets, making an audible connection to his patron, though it is uncertain whether the idea and the choice of theme was Beethoven’s or the count’s. Here the cello merrily introduces the Russian theme while the violin is still trilling. We wonder what Count Razumovsky thought of Beethoven’s cheerful rendition of the originally soulful melody. The mood has definitely lightened here, though the scope is still grand—a full sonata form, complete with repeat of the exposition. Beethoven crowns the work with an imaginative coda in which he slows the Russian theme, imbuing it with mock sadness, only to sweep it away with his virtuosic final flourish © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

April 23, 2017: Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano; Warren Jones, piano HECTOR BERLIOZ (1803-1869) Les nuits d’été, op. 7 April 23, 2017: Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano; Warren Jones, piano The origins and inspirations for some of the most ravishing songs in the repertory are somewhat obscure. Berlioz composed Les nuits d’été (Summer Nights)—originally for voice with piano—in 1840–41 following his dramatic symphony Roméo et Juliette . The date March 23, 1840, appears on a manuscript copy of “Villanelle” and the cycle of six songs was published in the summer of 1841, but Berlioz never mentions them in his letters around this time. These are love songs of the highest Romantic order—Romantic referring to the period that saw the rise of lieder, or mélodie in France, as the ideal genre to express the countless images of buoyant hope, insatiable longing, and heartbreak that permeated Romantic poetry. Were Les nuits d’été really inspired by Berlioz’s mistress, Marie Martin (stage name Recio), as many have claimed? Berlioz began seeing Marie around this time and she accompanied him on his travels of 1842–43. Well aware of her limitations as a singer—she lasted only one season at the Paris Opéra—he still wrote vaguely positive reviews of several of her performances. She was the most frequent performer of “Absence,” the fourth song in the cycle, which he orchestrated specifically for her. Yet the many references to past love affairs and separations in the cycle make it difficult to link the settings too specifically with Marie. And, one would almost rather attribute these gorgeous outpourings to any other inspiration, in view of his unhappiness under her tenacious, jealous hold and her insistence on performing on his concerts over his opposition. Perhaps it was simple admiration for the poems of his friend and fellow critic Théophile Gautier that inspired Berlioz to such heights. He selected six poems from Gautier’s La comédie de la mort (The comedy of death)—two of a lighthearted nature, which he positioned first and last, and four in a more melancholy vein. The composer provided his own title, drawn from the poet’s images of night. The first song, “Villanelle,” is clearly a “daylight” song, but it sets up the happiness that will later turn to despair. Images of night appear repeatedly in the interior songs, even though “summer nights” are not specifically mentioned. In “La spectre de la rose” the ghost of a rose returns nightly to haunt the dreams of a young woman who wore the flower to a ball. In “Sur les lagunes” (On the lagoons), night envelops the lamenting lover. “Au cimitière: Clair de lune” (At the cemetery: moonlight) explicitly occurs at night, but also includes lovely images of shade and sunset. In 1843 Berlioz orchestrated “Absence” as a kind of appeasement offering to Marie, and she performed this version several times. It was not until 1856, however, that he orchestrated another of the songs, choosing “Spectre de la rose” for a February engagement with mezzo-soprano Anna Bockholtz-Falconi. Ecstatic over the performance, publisher Jakob Rieter-Biedermann asked Berlioz to orchestrate the remaining songs. The new versions were published later that year, each dedicated to a different singer who had impressed him in roles he had written. One wonders how it struck Marie (whom he had married in 1854) to learn that her “Absence” had been dedicated to Madeleine Nottès, his Marguerite in Faust. The songs have been performed countless times since and have long since been considered among Berlioz’s finest creations. “Villanelle” owes its infectious merriment to the simplicity of its melody and to the lightly repeated chords in the winds—an effect Berlioz had commented on in the second movement of Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony. Especially effective are the ends of the second and third verses (the first contains the same musical phrase, but without tempo fluctuations.) In the second the music slows at “et dis moi de ta voix si doux ” (and say to me in your soft voice), then resumes in a rush with “toujours ” (always). The third verse’s lovely image of returning with strawberries picked in the wood doesn’t really warrant the slowing and speeding up, but we are happy to hear the device again. The atmosphere changes immediately for “Spectre de la rose,” which employs longer spun-out phrases and a delicate orchestral texture of solo muted cello, paired flute and clarinet, and muted violin and viola background. The haunting images of the poem are made more poignant by Berlioz’s touches of nostalgic sweetness. Leaps are employed with tender expressiveness, and he finds just the right orchestral touches, as in the string tremolos at “Ce léger parfum est mon âme ” (This faint perfume is my soul). He ends ingeniously in simple recitative as the poet bestows his epitaph with a kiss. “Sur les lagunes,” the only minor-mode setting, presents a dark mood with its mournful half-step motive and repetitive accompaniment figure, which suggests the undulating of a boat on water. The grief-stricken lover cries out in a dramatic descent at the end of each verse: “Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer! ” (Ah, without love to depart on the sea!) The song ends on an unresolved harmony—at sea, as it were. “Absence” also dwells on bereavement, that of separation, with the most exquisite lingering over the opening phrase. This phrase, which opens the refrain and therefore returns twice, is haunting in its unusual harmonization and its straining upward. The refrain also contains one of the most agonizingly beautiful peaks anywhere, leading to and attaining the word “loin ” (far). The intervening episodes contribute to the drama by building in a chanting style, the second at a higher pitch level than the first. Gentle pulsation characterizes the opening and closing sections of “Au cimitière,” with subtle harmonic shifts between major and minor. The middle section becomes more agitated (verses 3 and 4), and Berlioz makes a fitting response to the poet’s words about music bringing back a memory. The ending contains some gently clashing dissonances to reflect the “chant plaintif ” (plaintive song). Berlioz exuberantly portrays the high spirits and exoticism of the poet’s “L’île inconnue” (Unknown isle). We also hear undulating waves and the breeze whipping up. A hint of reflection follows the sailor’s admission to his fair companion that the faithful shore of eternal love is little known. Anywhere else is fair game, suggests the cheerful conclusion as the wind picks up and the waves are set in motion again. © Jane Vial Jaffe Texts and Translations Les nuits d’été Villanelle Quand viendra la saison nouvelle, Quand auront disparu les froids, Tous les deux nous irons, ma belle, Pour cueillir le muguet aux bois. Sous nos pieds égrenant les perles, Que l’on voit au matin trembler, Nous irons écouter les merles Siffler. Le printemps est venu, ma belle, C’est le mois des amants béni; Et l’oiseau, satinant son aile, Dit des vers au rebord du nid. Oh, viens donc, sur ce banc de mousse Pour parler de nos beaux amours, Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce Toujours! Loin, bien loin, égarant nos courses, Faisons fuir le lapin caché, Et le daim au miroir des sources, Admirant son grand bois penché, Puis chez nous, tout heureux, tout aises, En paniers enlaçant nos doigts, Revenons, rapportant des fraises Des bois. Le spectre de la rose Soulève ta paupière close Qu’effleure un songe virginal Je sais le spectre d’une rose Que tu portais hier au bal. Tu me pris encor emperlée Des pleurs d=argent de l’arrosoir, Et parmi la fête étoilée Tu me promenas tout le soir. O toi, qui de ma mort fut cause, Sans que tu puisses le chasser, Toutes les nuits mon spectre rose À ton chevet viendra danser. Mais ne crains rien, je ne réclame Ni messe ni De Profundis. Ce léger parfum est mon âme Et j’arrive du paradis. Mon destin fut digne d’envie, Et pour avoir un sort si beau Plus d’un aurait donné sa vie. Car sur ton sein j’ai mon tombeau, Et sur l’albâtre où je repose Un poète avec un baiser Écrivit “Ci-gît une rose Que tous les rois vont jalouser.” Sur les lagunes: Lamento Ma belle amie est morte. Je pleurerai toujours; Sous la tombe elle emporte Mon âme et mes amours. Dans le ciel sans m’attendre Elle s’en retourna; L’ange qui l’emmena Ne voulut pas me prendre. Que mon sort est amer! Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer! La blanche créature Est couchée au cercueil. Comme dans la nature Tout me paraît en deuil! La colombe oubliée Pleure et songe à l’absent; Mon âme pleure et sent Qu’elle est dépareillée. Que mon sort est amer! Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer! Sur moi la nuit immense S’étend comme un linceul. Je chante ma romance Que le ciel entend seul. Ah, comme elle était belle, Et comme je l’aimais! Je n’aimerai jamais Une femme autant qu’elle. Que mon sort est amer! Ah, sans amour s’en aller sur la mer Absence Reviens, reviens, ma bien aimée! Comme une fleur loin du soleil La fleur de ma vie est fermée Loin de ton sourire vermeil. Entre nos coeurs quelle distance! Tant d’espace entre nos baisers! O sort amer! O dure absence! O grands désirs inapaisés! Reviens, reviens, etc. D’ici lâ-bas que de campagnes, Que de villes et de hameaux, Que de vallons et de montagnes, À lasser le pied des chevaux! Reviens, reviens, etc. Au cimitière: Clair de lune Connaissez-vous la blanche tombe Où flotte avec un son plaintif L’ombre d’un if? Sur l’if une pâle colombe, Triste et seule au soleil couchant, Chante son chant: Un air maladivement tendre, À la fois charmant et fatal Qui vous fait mal Et qu’on voudrait toujours entendre; Un air comme en soupire aux cieux L’ange amoureux. On dirait que l’âme éveillée Pleure sous terre à l’unisson De la chanson Et du malheur d’être oubliée Se plaint dans un roucoulement Bien doucement. Sur les ailes de la musique On sent lentement revenir Un souvenir Une ombre, une forme angélique Passe dans un rayon tremblant En voile blanc. Les belles de nuit demi-closes Jettent leur parfum faible et doux Autour de vous, Et le fantôme aux molles poses Murmure en vous tendant les bras: Tu reviendras! Oh jamais plus, près de la tombe Je n’irai, quand descend le soir Au manteau noir, Écouter le pâle colombe Chanter sur la pointe de l’if Son chant plantif. L’île inconnue Dites, la jeune belle, Où voulez-vous aller? La voile enfle son aile, La brise va souffler. L’aviron est d=ivoire, La pavillon de moire, Le gouvernail d’or fin. J=ai pour lest une orange, Pour voile une aile d=ange, Pour mousse un séraphin. Dites, la jeune belle, Où voulez-vous aller? La voile enfle son aile, La brise va souffler. Est-ce dans la Baltique? Dans la mer Pacifique? Dans l’île de Java? Ou bien est-ce en Norvège, Cueillir la fleur de neige, Ou la fleur d’Angsoka? Dites, la jeune belle, Où voulez-vous aller? Menez-moi, dit la belle, À la rive fidèle Où l’on aime toujours! Cette rive, ma chère, On ne la connaît guère Au pays des amours. Où voulez-vous aller? La brise va souffler. —Théophile Gautier Summer Nights Villanelle When the new season comes And the cold weather has gone, We will go together, my love, To pick lily-of-the-valley in the woods; Our feet scattering the pearls That we see trembling as morning dew, We will go and hear the blackbirds Sing. The spring has come, my love, It is the blessed season for lovers; And the bird, preening its wings, Sings songs from the edge of its nest. Oh come and sit on this mossy bank And talk of our happy love, And say to me in your soft voice: Always! Far, far away, our footsteps wandering, We’ll startle the rabbit from its hiding, And the deer, mirrored in the stream, Admiring its great antlers; Then back home, completely happy, content, Our fingers entwined, return Carrying baskets of wild Strawberries. The Specter of the Rose Lift up your eyelids That glow with a maiden dream. I am the specter of a rose Which you wore last night to the ball. You took me still moist From the silver tears of the watering can. And through the starry festivities You walked me with you all evening. Oh you who was cause of my death, Without your being able to escape it, Every night my pink specter Will come to dance at the head of your bed. But do not fear anything, I don’t ask for Mass or De profundis. This faint perfume is my soul And it is from paradise that I come. My destiny was one to be coveted; To have a fate so beautiful, Many would have given their lives. For my tomb is on your breast, And on the alabaster where I rest A poet with his kiss Writes: “Here lies a rose That all kings will envy.” On the Lagoons: Lament My fair one is dead. I will weep always. She has taken with her into the tomb My whole being and all my love. To heaven, without waiting for me She returned. The angel who drew her back Would not take me with her. How bitter is my fate. Ah, without love to depart on the sea! The white creature Sleeps in the coffin; And now all nature Seems to me in mourning. The forsaken dove Cries and dreams of the departed; My soul cries and feels As if cut in two. How bitter is my fate. Ah, without love to depart on the sea! All about me, the vast night Spreads like a shroud. I sing my song, And the sky alone hears it. Ah, how beautiful she was, And how I loved her! Never will I love A woman as much as she. How bitter is my fate! Ah, without love to depart on the sea! Absence Come back, come back my beloved. Like a flower away from the sun The flower of my life is closed up Away from your warm smile. What distance lies between our hearts; So great a gulf between our kisses; O bitter fate! O cruel absence! Mighty desires unsatisfied. Come back, etc. From here to there what plains lie between, What towns and villages. What valleys and hills, To tire the horses’ hooves. At the Cemetery: Moonlight Do you know the white gravestone Where floats with a plaintive song The shade of a yew tree? On the yew a solitary white dove, Sad and alone as the sun sets, Sings its song: A sickly sweet air At once enchanting and fatal, Which affects you unpleasantly And which one would like to hear always; Like a song sighed to heaven By an angel in love. One would say the awakened soul Weeps under the earth in unison With the song, And from grief at being forgotten Complains in a cooing Very softly. On the wings of music One feels slowly returning A memory A shade, an angelic form Passes in a shimmering ray, Shrouded in white. The beauties of the night, half-closed, Throw their weak and soft perfume Around you And the phantom in mellow poses, Whispers while stretching its arms toward you: You will come back! Oh never again, near the tomb Will I go, when evening descends In its black coat, To hear the pale dove Sing from the top of the yew Its plaintive song. The Unknown Isle Tell me, young beauty, Where do you want to go? The sails are set, The breeze is getting up. The oar is ivory, The flag of silk, The helm of fine gold. For ballast I have an orange, For sail, an angel’s wing, For ship’s boy a seraph. Tell me, young beauty, Where do you want to go? The sails are set, The breeze is getting up. Is it to the Baltic? To the Pacific Ocean? To the Island of Java? Or is it to Norway, To pick the snowflowers, Or the flowers of Angsoka? Tell me, young beauty, Where do you want to go? Take me, the fair one replies, To the faithful shore Where love lasts forever. That shore, my dear, Is little known In the country of love. Where do you want to go? The breeze is getting up. Return to Parlance Program Notes

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 2021 AT 3 PM THE SCHUMANN STRING QUARTET MENDELSSOHN, RAVEL, AND MOZART BUY TICKETS PAUL HUANG, VIOLIN Paul Huang possesses a big, luscious tone, spot-on intonation and a technique that makes the most punishing string phrases feel as natural as breathing.” — The Washington Post SCHUMANN STRING QUARTET “Fire and energy. The Schumann Quartet plays staggeringly well with sparkling virtuosity and a willingness to astonish” — Süddeutsche Zeitung FEATURING ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE BUY TICKETS One of today’s fastest rising ensembles, the Schumann String Quartet has been hailed worldwide for their fire, energy, and supreme technical accomplishment. Their Parlance debut will include Mendelssohn’s precocious Quartet in A minor, Op. 13, Maurice Ravel’s spellbinding Quartet in F, and Mozart’s adventurous “Dissonance” quartet. PROGRAM Felix Mendelssohn String Quartet in A minor, Op. 13 Program Notes Maurice Ravel String Quartet in F Program Notes W.A. Mozart String Quartet in C, K. 465 (“Dissonance”) Program Notes Watch the Schumann String Quartet perform Mendelssohn’s F-minor Quartet, Op. 80:

ALBERT CANO SMIT, PIANO A musician who has been praised as “a moving young poet” (Le Devoir), Spanish/Dutch pianist Albert Cano Smit enjoys a growing international career on the orchestral, recital, and chamber music stages. Noted for his captivating performances, storytelling quality and nuanced musicality, the First Prize winner of the 2019 Young Concert Artists Susan Wadsworth International Auditions has appeared as a soloist with the Las Vegas Philharmonic, the San Diego Symphony, Montréal Symphony, the Colorado Music Festival Orchestra, Chamber Orchestra of the Triangle, Orquesta Filarmónica de Boca del Río, Barcelona Symphony, Catalonia National Orchestra, Manchester Camerata, Nottingham Youth Orchestra, and American Youth Symphony. Recital highlights have included his Carnegie Hall debut presented by The Naumburg Foundation, his Merkin Concert hall debut presented by Young Concert Artists, recitals at San Francisco’s Herbst Theatre, Paris’ Fondation Louis Vuitton (the performance was streamed live globally), the Kennedy Center’s Terrace Theater in Washington, DC, Germany’s Rheingau Music Festival, and return performances at the Steinway Society in San Jose. He has been in residence at France’s Festival de Musique de Wissembourg for seven years, a piano fellow at Bravo! Vail Music Festival and Tippet Rise Art Center, and has had his recital debut in Asia at Xiamen’s Banlam Grand Theater. Albert has been presented in recital by Festival Bach Montréal, University of Florida Performing Arts, the Krannert Center (Urbana, IL), and Matinée Musicale (Cincinnati, OH). He recently premiered Katherine Balch’s “Spolia” with flutist Anthony Trionfo taking them to the Morgan Library and Carnegie Hall. Recent recitals with Trionfo have included the Alys Stephens Center, Kravis Center, Evergreen Museum & Library, and others. Cano Smit is set to continue touring with violinist William Hagen, with whom he has recorded the CD “Danse Russe”. During the 22-23 season Albert will appear in recital and chamber music performances at Merkin Hall (New York, NY), the Cosmos Club (Washington, DC), the Crystal Valley Concert Series (Middlebury, IN), Friends of Music Concerts (Sleepy Hollow, NY), Artist Series Concerts of Sarasota (Sarasota, FL), and Abbey Church Events (Lacey, WA), and will also participate in the inaugural chamber music ensemble of YCA on Tour. He will appear as soloist playing Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 4 in G Minor with the Seattle Symphony (Seattle, WA), Gershwin’s Concerto in F with the Aiken Symphony (Aiken, SC), and Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto No. 5 in E-Flat Major with the Elgin Symphony (Elgin, IL). An advocate for new music, Albert has premiered numerous solo works on his recital programs, commissioned for him by Stephen Hough, Miquel Oliu, and Katherine Balch. He has given four hand performances with Jean-Yves Thibaudet at the Wallis Annenberg Center Hall and Zipper Hall, taken part in the Jupiter Chamber Players in New York and the Bridgehampton Chamber Festival, and performed with such artists as Gary Hoffman, Andrej Bielow, Thomas Mesa, and Lev Sivkov. As a chamber musician, he has collaborated with such ensembles as the Ebene, Szymanowski, Casals, Cosmos, Gerhard, and Verona Quartets, and has released an album of Austrian viola music for Champs Hills with Emma Wernig. Albert was First Prize winner at the 2017 Walter W. Naumburg Piano Competition. Additional special prizes at the 2019 Young Concert Artists International Auditions include The Paul A. Fish Memorial Prize, the Alexander Kasza-Kasser Concert Prize for support of his Kennedy Center debut, the Friends of Music Concert Prize (NY), and the Sunday Musicale Prize (NJ). Born in Geneva, Switzerland, Albert recently completed an Artist Diploma with Robert McDonald at the Juilliard School, where he was awarded the 2020 Rubinstein Prize for Piano. Early on, he studied music at Montserrat mountain’s Escolanía de Montserrat choir, where he sang as an alto. Later, he studied piano with Graham Caskie, Marta Karbownicka, and Ory Shihor. He is an alum of the Verbier Festival Academy and holds a BA in Piano Performance from the Colburn School, as well as a MM from the Juilliard School. He currently resides in New York City.

THE TALLIS SCHOLARS THE TALLIS SCHOLARS Vocal Ensemble The Tallis Scholars were founded in 1973 by their director, Peter Phillips. Through their recordings and concert performances, they have established themselves as the leading exponents of Renaissance sacred music throughout the world. Peter Phillips has worked with the ensemble to create, through good tuning and blend, the purity and clarity of sound which he feels best serves the Renaissance repertoire, allowing every detail of the musical lines to be heard. It is the resulting beauty of sound for which The Tallis Scholars have become so widely renowned. The Tallis Scholars perform in both sacred and secular venues, giving around 80 concerts each year. In 2013 the group celebrated their 40thanniversary with a World Tour, performing 99 events in 80 venues in 16 countries. In 2020 Gimell Records celebrated 40 years of recording the group by releasing a remastered version of the 1980 recording of Allegri’s ‘Miserere’. In 2023/24 as they celebrated their 50th Birthday, the desire to hear this group in all corners of the globe was as strong as ever. They have now performed well over 2500 concerts. 2024/25 season highlights include performances in Japan, the USA, East Asia and a number of appearances in London as well as their usual touring schedule in Europe and the UK. Recordings by The Tallis Scholars have attracted many awards throughout the world. In 1987 their recording of Josquin's Missa La sol fa re mi and Missa Pange lingua received Gramophone magazine’s Record of the Year award, the first recording of early music ever to win this coveted award. In 1989 the French magazine Diapason gave two of its Diapason d'Or de l'Année awards for the recordings of a mass and motets by Lassus and for Josquin's two masses based on the chanson L'Homme armé. Their recording of Palestrina's Missa Assumpta est Maria and Missa Sicut lilium was awarded Gramophone's Early Music Award in 1991; they received the 1994 Early Music Award for their recording of music by Cipriano de Rore; and the same distinction again in 2005 for their disc of music by John Browne. The Tallis Scholars were nominated for Grammy Awards in 2001, 2009 and 2010. In November 2012 their recording of Josquin's Missa De beata virgine and Missa Ave maris stella received a Diapason d’Or de l’Année and in their 40th anniversary year they were welcomed into the Gramophone ‘Hall of Fame’ by public vote. In a departure for the group in Spring 2015 The Tallis Scholars released a disc of music by Arvo Pärt called Tintinnabuli which received great praise across the board. A 2020 release including Missa Hercules Dux Ferrarie was the last of nine albums in The Tallis Scholars' project to record and release all Josquin's masses before the 500thanniversary of the composer’s death. It was the winner of the BBC Music Magazine’s much coveted Recording of the Year Award in 2021 and the 2021 Gramophone Early Music Award. Their latest Gimell release in November 2024 is of music by Robert Fayrfax and was made Editor’s Choice in Gramophone. www.thetallisscholars.co.uk / www.gimell.com Promoters please note: We update our biographies regularly and ask that they are not altered without permission. For updated versions, please e-mail Jessica Kinney: jk@jamesbrownmanagement.com PETER PHILLIPS Director Peter Phillips has dedicated his career to the research and performance of Renaissance polyphony, and to the perfecting of choral sound. He founded The Tallis Scholars in 1973, with whom he has now appeared in over 2,500 concerts world-wide, and made over 60 discs in association with Gimell Records. As a result of this commitment Peter Phillips and The Tallis Scholars have done more than any other group to establish the sacred vocal music of the Renaissance as one of the great repertoires of Western classical music. Peter Phillips also conducts other specialist ensembles. He is currently working with the BBC Singers (London), the Netherlands Chamber Choir (Utrecht), the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir (Tallinn), The Danish Radio Choir (Copenhagen)and El Leon de Oro (Oviedo). He is Patron of the Chapel Choir of Merton College Oxford. In addition to conducting, Peter Phillips is well-known as a writer. For 33 years he contributed a regular music column to The Spectator . In 1995 he became the publisher of The Musical Times , the oldest continuously published music journal in the world. His first book, English Sacred Music 1549-1649 , was published by Gimell in 1991, while his second, What We Really Do , appeared in 2013. During 2018, BBC Radio 3 broadcast his view of Renaissance polyphony, in a series of six hour-long programmes, entitled The Glory of Polyphony . He is a regular reviewer on music for the London Review of Books. In 2005 Peter Phillips was made a Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres by the French Minister of Culture. In 2008 Peter helped to found the chapel choir of Merton College Oxford, where he is a Bodley Fellow; and in 2021 he was elected an Honorary Fellow of St John’s College, Oxford. www.thetallisscholars.co.uk / www.gimell.com This biography is valid for use until September 2025. We update our biographies regularly and ask that they are not altered without permission. For updated versions, please e-mail jk@jamesbrownmanagement.com