February 22, 2015 By Jacob Stockinger Maybe you were lucky enough to attend the gala showcase concert two weeks ago where winners (below) of the annual Concerto Competition at the performed. (They are below in a photo by Michael R. From left they are: Keisuke Yamamoto, Ivana Urgcic, Jason Kutz and Anna Whiteway.) Here is a link to a preview post: If so you heard some relatively unknown works by (a Poem for Violin and Orchestra played by Yamamoto) and (a Fantasy on Themes from “Carmen” for flute and orchestra played by Urgcic) plus soprano Whiteway singing a famous aria from “” by.). But the finale was Kutz (below) playing a somewhat truncated version – edited for time constraints of the competition — of the famous “”. Kurtz did a bang-up job of this great work, which for The Ear, may just be his best and most concise work for piano and orchestra.
You just can’t beat that work’s ultra-Romantic 18th Variation – at the bottom in a popular with pianist Arthur Rubinstein and Fritz Reiner conducting the – that is, a friend remarked, much like the “Nimrod” Variation of Sir ’s “Enigma” Variations. It is irresistible and never fails. But the concerto repertoire is such a rich one! There is something just so appealing about seeing the dramatic cooperation bertween the soloist and the orchestra.
PROGRAM NOTES for “French Connection with Isabell Lippi”. Chausson’s good fortune followed him into a happy marriage that produced five children. Also fortunate was the opportunity to be in the midst of the amazingly rich. Form, and many program annotators have called it a free form work, Chausson has very. This thesis, written by Paul Tulloch, and entitled Extended Program Notes for Thesis Violin Recital, having been approved in respect to style and intellectual content, is referred to you for judgment.
So I was pleased to see that the recently asked 10 concert pianists to name 10 concertos that they think are neglected and should be better known and performed more often. The story included enlightening statements as well as audio-video clips of excerpts. So in the spirit on the concerto winners, here is a link to the story: Read and listen and see what you think. The Ear knows a fair number of piano concertos, but a lot of these were new to him. What do you think of the list? And do you have any names of concertos and composers to add to the list? The Ear wants to hear.
December 27, 2012 By Jacob Stockinger Whew! Except for ’s and, which stay lay ahead of us, most of the holidays are behind us. That means a lot of crazed holiday shopping, cooking and entertaining is also behind us. So how about a Time Out? You know, a brief intermezzo – some kind of respite just for the fun and restorative pleasure of it. So today what I offer is simply some pleasure for your ears. Here is a beautiful piece of music I stumbled across, thanks to.
It is the for and Piano, Op. 39, written by the French composer (below) in 1897. I didn’t know it or recognize it.
But I found it lovely, one of those lyrically quiet French works, like so much of Faure’s music, which got largely drowned out or overshadowed by the more dramatic and large-scale late-19th century German and, but which nonetheless merits a much wider hearing and more performances. It also sounds like a good piece for cello students performing at an intermediate or perhaps higher level. Yet it remains a rarity. I even asked a young, well-known touring professional cellist about it. But the cellist had never heard of it. And a lot of Chausson — including his Violin Concerto, his Concerto for Violin and Cello, his chamber Concert for Violin, Piano; and String Quartet (one of more frequently heard works); a; a Symphony in B-Flat; and various songs and salon pieces –seems to fly too far under the radar these days.
But Parry Karp (below), the veteran cellist of the Pro Arte String Quartet for almost 40 years who also teaches at the -Madison and who knows the cello repertoire better than anyone else I know, knew the piece immediately when I mentioned it. In fact, he told me, he had recorded it. Should you like to get a hold of that, you can hear Parry Karp performing it beautifully with Jeffrey Sykes, the UW-trained, –based pianist who is the co-founder and co-artistic director of Madison’s Bach Dancing and Dynamite Society. The performance is on the second, Volume 2, of the “Postcards from Madison” album that you can get either separately as Volume 2 or as part of a 2-CD set. Below is the appropriate album art, a painting of Madison area landscape by the famous artist, who served as the first artist-in-residence at the.
(There are a couple of other recordings of the Chausson I found on amazon.com, but surprisingly few.) The recording is available from the UW School of Music’s on-line CD store and also from amazon.com. Here are links.
First, to the UW School of Music’s on-line store: Then to the amazon listing (so far with no reviewer comments or ratings, so you can be the first): Finally, here is the best performance of the piece I found on, though a good video is sadly lacking. I hope you too enjoy it and find it restful or even soothing after the hectic days on the Shopping Season between Thanksgiving, Hanukkah and Christmas. Let me know what you think of it in the COMMENT section. The Ear wants to hear.
The Pines of Rome Ottorino Respighi (1879–1936) Written: 1924 Movements: Four (played without pause) Style: Contemporary Duration: 23 minutes When it comes to the music of the twentieth century, scholars tend to focus on the “giants”—those composers whose works break with the past and set music on new paths. Those giants—like Igor Stravinsky and Arnold Schoenberg—produced most of their earth-shattering works in the first thirty years of the century. They had a powerful influence on all music. But there are also the “not-so-giants” who were actively writing at the same time. Their music, much of it very interesting and good, has had a difficult time making it into the standard repertoire.
Because of his conservative nature, Ottorino Respighi never made it into the pantheon of the great composers. Nevertheless, in terms of mastering the craft of writing for orchestra, he has few equals.
Respighi didn’t want to be avante-garde. Instead, “he desired above all to compose music that would speak to his compatriots about all aspects of their beloved country in a musical language that was beautiful and easy for ordinary people to accept and enjoy.” The works that he is best known for are a series of three symphonic pictures called tone poems. In each, Respighi handles the orchestra as if it were a canvas on which he paints vivid sound colors. The first, written in 1916, is called The Fountains of Rome and the third, Roman Festivals was written in 1928. The second, The Pines of Rome, was written in 1924. Thankfully, these works are part of the standard repertoire and are audience favorites. Writing in the third person, Respighi provided the following comment for the first Philadelphia Orchestra performance of The Pines of Rome: While in his preceding work, The Fountains of Rome, the composer sought to reproduce by means of tone an impression of nature, in the Pines of Rome he uses nature as a point of departure, in order to recall memories and visions.
The century-old trees which dominate so characteristically the Roman landscape become testimony for the principal events in Roman life. For further clarification, he included the following explanation in the score: The Pines of Villa Borghese. Children are at play in the pine grove of the Villa Borghese, dancing the Italian equivalent of “Ring around a Rosy”; mimicking marching soldiers and battles; twittering and shrieking like swallows at evening; and they disappear. Suddenly the scene changes to – The Pines near a Catacomb. We see the shadows of the pines, which overhang the entrance of a catacomb.
From the depths rises a chant which reechoes solemnly, like a hymn, and is then mysteriously silenced. The Pines of the Janiculum. There is a thrill in the air. The full moon reveals the profile of the pines of Gianicolo’s Hill. A nightingale sings (represented by a recording of a nightingale song, heard from the orchestra).
The Pines of the Appian Way. Misty dawn on the Appian Way. The tragic country is guarded by solitary pines. Indistinctly, incessantly, the rhythm of innumerable steps. To the poet’s fantasy appears a vision of past glories; trumpets blare, and the army of the Consul advances brilliantly in the grandeur of a newly risen sun toward the Sacred Way, mounting in triumph the Capitoline Hill. © 2018 John P. Varineau Program notes by John Varineau.