Friday, March 19, 2021

Faculty Cello Recital

Three Works for Unaccompanied Cello
March 24, 2021 at 5:30 pm and 7:30 pm
Magale Recital Hall
Natchitoches, Louisiana

PROGRAM

Serenade for Cello (1949) ... Hanz Werner Henze

Suite for Cello (1939) ... Ernst Krenek

Sonata for Solo Cello (1968) ... Bernd Alois Zimmermann




 

















PROGRAM NOTES:

In the Shadows of World War II

An NSU Faculty Recital by Paul Christopher, cello 

Program Notes by Jackson Harmeyer, NSU Alumnus 2013 

Our present era is one of political tension, racial strife, and economic catastrophe, all intensified by the devastating COVID-19 global pandemic and a persistent crisis of disinformation. Over the past year, we have become accustomed to socially-distanced and virtual concerts where our separation from each other is reinforced by a facemask or computer screen. Even these, however, can be luxuries as our larger musical institutions—our orchestras and opera companies—have often been unable to muster concerts at all. The three composers whose music cellist Paul Christopher plays tonight knew their own share of crises. Their age was torn asunder by World War II, a conflict arising from economic collapse and racial prejudices stoked by false prophets who used fear as their greatest weapon. Our composers Hans Werner Henze, Ernst Krenek, and Bernd Alois Zimmermann, as Germans and an Austrian, had front-row seats to these calamities and each was forced to respond in a different way. While Henze and Krenek fled to countries they felt would be more hospitable to their music and ideas, Zimmermann ultimately committed suicide, after years of depression and physical illness. In their music, their recourse to neo-tonalities and then serialism represented efforts to attain a rationality absent from their chaotic era. Their interest in jazz and folk music, nevertheless, demonstrated a willingness to engage with the larger human community. As we begin to see some glimmers of hope in the vaccines and the promise of herd immunity, we also cannot forget the lasting consequences this moment will have on our art.

For the German composer Hans Werner Henze (1926-2012), the rise of Nazism was a personal story. As a boy, he watched as his father, a school teacher, embraced Nazism and how fascist, anti-Semitic, and anti-communist books gradually replaced those by banned authors. As for himself, Henze was enrolled in the Hitler Youth. Music was an escape for him, and in 1942 he entered the Brunswick State Music School where the operas of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart became a lifelong passion. Although two years later he was conscripted into military service, his internment at a British prisoner of war camp allowed him to hear Modernist music for the first time via BBC radio broadcasts. Henze would later reflect, “Everything that the fascists persecute and hate is beautiful to me.” These early experiences led Henze to embrace communism and construct a politically-engaged music as he began composing in the post-war years. Encouraged by his mentor Wolfgang Fortner, Henze attended the Darmstadt summer courses in 1946, their first year. Although this annual meeting of the avant-garde introduced him to twelve-tone serialism, Henze rejected its subsequent transformation into integral serialism under classmates like Karlheinz Stockhausen as another dangerous regime to be resisted. Instead Henze employed twelve-tone materials non-dogmatically and often created a tonal scaffolding around them. By 1953, he had resettled to Italy as his Marxist views and homosexuality proved obstacles to his building a career in Germany. He created works honoring Hô Chí Minh and Che Guevara; he also taught in Fidel Castro’s Cuba for a year. Nevertheless Henze is well-regarded for his operas and other theatre works, including Boulevard Solitude, The Bassarids, El Cimarrón, and We Come to the River as well as his cycle of ten symphonies, several of which have literary associations of their own.

 Henze’s Serenade for solo cello was composed in 1949 and began as incidental music for a production of William Shakespeare’s comedy Much Ado About Nothing. The late 1940s and early 1950s was a time when Henze was involved in the creation of much stage between incidental music, ballets, and his first entries into opera. Indeed the plays of Shakespeare would inspire Henze throughout his career, prompting two guitar sonatas titled Royal Winter Music, the Eighth Symphony based on A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and an operatic setting of Venus and Adonis. The Serenade we hear is in nine brief movements, lasting only about eight minutes total. The First Movement, Adagio rubato, glides and wanders slowly as if uncertain of the direction it might take. Poco Allegretto is more resolute with pizzicato providing a steady accompaniment over which bowed material can dance. Pastorale resounds like a lonely horn call over a vast, echoing landscape while Andante con moto, rubato employs strong pizzicato to resemble a knock on a door. The Fifth Movement, Vivace, suggests the witty bantering and outright bickering of the reluctant lovers, Benedick and Beatrice—the aspect for which Much Ado is best-remembered. The Sixth is a Tango, although one which would be difficult to dance to. Allegro marciale is perhaps a further lovers’ quarrel which seems to further escalate in the dialogue of Allegretto. The final movement, Menuett, returns to the dance orientation of previous movements, now employing both pizzicato and staccato bowing to establish a steady accompaniment.

 The Suite, Op. 84 for solo cello by Ernst Krenek (1900-1991) is the earliest work on tonight’s program, having been composed in 1939. This Austrian composer of Czech parentage, however, was already well into his career, having worked in Vienna, Berlin, and Paris, before relocating to the United States following the annexation of Austria by Nazi Germany in March 1938. Although drastic aesthetic shifts characterized these early years, the most lasting influence was from his friendships with Alban Berg, Anton Webern, and the philosopher Theodor Adorno who exposed him to the twelve-tone serialism of their mentor, Arnold Schoenberg. Indeed Krenek composed the first serialist opera, Karl V, between 1929 and 1933, a work he saw as explicitly anti-Nazi and pro-Austrian in its depiction of its namesake emperor. His American pupil, the composer George Perle, has reflected, “Though Krenek insisted on the autonomy of the language of music, he always found an ideological rationale for the significant changes in his style …and it was a source of satisfaction to him that, in aligning himself with Schoenberg, he had adopted the musical technique that the tyrants hated most of all.” The planned premiere of Karl V in Vienna was canceled due to the interference of Nazi sympathizers; instead its premiere came four years later in June 1938 in Prague. By August, Krenek had emigrated to the United States where he began an influential teaching career. In the post-war years, he would lecture at Darmstadt and incorporate electronics, integral serialism, and chance operations into his ever-evolving compositional idiom.

Krenek’s Cello Suite is in five movements and lasts approximately ten minutes. The First Movement, marked Andante affettuoso, is characterized by motivic transformation. Gradually it intensifies from a tentative opening populated with isolated rhythmic figures into faster, more resolute material. Although there is at first an aspect of Webern’s pointillism, Krenek opposes and expands his motives so that they radiate energy and keep the music moving. There is further expansion in the Second Movement, Adagio, which now segregates its materials into several melodic lines identified by their timbre (arco or pizzicato) and range (low, middle, or high). The Third Movement, Allegretto, takes this yet a step further in its simulation of polyphonic writing. Motives here suggest fugal entrances and episodes, creating more of a collage of discarded archetypes than the implied counterpoint of Johann Sebastian Bach in his solo writing. The Fourth Movement, Andantino scherzando, at its outset alludes to the waltz with its characteristic steps captured in pizzicato. As the movement progresses, these steps grow increasingly distant as the bowed line seems too emotionally distracted to keep up. Especially in these two central movements, there are autobiographical elements as the intellectual rigor of Bach and a shared German past unravels in the Third Movement and the waltz with its strong Viennese associations becomes painfully undanceable in the Fourth. This fragmentation persists in the Fifth Movement, Andante, molto liberamente, which comes across as brittle and exhausted. Only near the end, at the marking Tempo I, does the music gain more resolve and fervor. Still there is no sense of resolution when the music finally terminates into silence.

Our final composer, Bernd Alois Zimmermann (1918-1970), was the most tragic and his aesthetic, the most complex. Like Henze, compulsory military service in World War II exposed him to music which had been banned by the Nazi regime. In his case, a posting in occupied France gave him his initial acquaintance with the scores of Igor Stravinsky and Darius Milhaud. It also left him with a severe skin disease for which he was discharged in 1942. Formal musical studies in Cologne, begun before the war, now continued followed by three summers at Darmstadt from 1948 to 1950. Zimmermann too embraced basic serial techniques, although his primary expansion came in the temporal realm where he posited a “spherical shape of time.” By this he meant that time is perceived as a unity of past, present, and future where one is not separate from any other. In other words, the past coexists within the present and together they determine the future, so that collage and the simultaneous stratification of distinct elements become essential musical features. In his single opera, Die Soldaten (The Soldiers), composed from 1957 to 1964, Zimmermann demonstrates this pluralist vision by constructing scenes around Baroque genres, including the ciaccona, ricercar, and toccata; incorporating a wide array of musical idioms from jazz to Gregorian chant into his aural fabric; and staging multiple actions simultaneously, conveying some on film and pumping others through loudspeakers. Furthermore Zimmermann in his writings positions Die Soldaten as the inevitable descendent to Richard Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde and Alban Berg’s Wozzeck—a present to their past as well as a vision of opera’s future, especially in its multimedia exploits.

This spherical time also factors into a purely instrumental work like the Sonata for solo cello of 1960. Zimmermann subtitles his Sonata, et suis spatiis transeunt universa sub caelo—the familiar line from Ecclesiastes which in English reads, “…and a time to every purpose under Heaven.” The poem offers certainty in uncertain times in its reassurance that everything has a purpose and a natural consequent. Past experience assures us that present struggles resolve as time ticks toward the future. Zimmermann represents this cycle in a score where smaller time events like individual rhythms, meters, and tempi are fixed, but where overarching structure is left indeterminate. Staves are not linked as in a conventional score, but instead measures are grouped together individually and assigned numbers. Each group contains distinct musical ideas which can still be heard distinctively when played. In effect, particulars are deprived of larger meaning, so only the present is known while the context of past and future must be negotiated by performer and listener alike. Yet Zimmermann, as stand-in for God and the universe, assures his audience through his Biblical inscription that every particular has its purpose even if not presently or immediately known. Furthermore collage happens through the diversity of the materials, but without the actual stratification that the soloist instrument necessitates; materials must be and will be reassembled mentally. The Sonata lasts about sixteen minutes and is in five movements, each with a poetic title in Italian—Rappresentazione, Fase, Tropi, Spazi, and Versetto. The cellist Siegfried Palm, who was responsible for commissioning and premiering so many avant-garde works for cello in the second half of the twentieth century, premiered the Sonata on April 24, 1960 at the Stuttgart Days for Contemporary Music.

© Jackson Harmeyer 2021

About Jackson. Jackson Harmeyer is a freelance concert annotator based in Alexandria, Louisiana. He serves as Director of Scholarship to the Sugarmill Music Festival and as Marketing Chair to the Chamber Music Society of Louisville. A project he is developing for the 2021 Sugarmill Music Festival, “A Scholarly Presentation in Lecture and Music: Solomon Northup in the Central Louisiana Sugarhouse,” has been awarded a prestigious Rebirth Grant by the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities. In August 2020, Jackson began a Master’s of Library Science with a specialization in Music Librarianship at Indiana University where he is the recipient of a May Copeland Fellowship and serves as Secretary/Web Administrator to the Students of Music Librarianship Group. Previously Jackson earned an M.M. in Music History and Literature from the University of Louisville with a thesis entitled, “Liminal Aesthetics: Perspectives on Harmony and Timbre in the Music of Olivier Messiaen, Tristan Murail, and Kaija Saariaho.” There he was a recipient of the Gerhard Herz Music History Scholarship and was employed at the Anderson Music Library where he did archival work for the unique Grawemeyer Collection of Contemporary Music. Jackson has shared research at two meetings of the South-Central Chapter of the American Musicological Society; the University of Tennessee Contemporary Music Festival; the Music by Women Festival; and the University of Louisiana System Academic Summit. Aside from his studies, Jackson is a music blogger, composer, choral singer, CD collector, avid reader, and award-winning nature photographer. 

Read additional program notes by Jackson at www.JacksonHarmeyer.com.


Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Ojeda Chamber Ensemble

Ojeda Ensemble Chamber Recital
3/26/2021 at 5:30 pm 
Magale Recital Hall 
Natchitoches, Louisiana 

PROGRAM

Clarinet Quintet in B minor, Op. 115 (1891) ... Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)
I. Allegro
II. Adagio. Piu Lento
III. Andantino 
IV. Con Moto

Jorge Ojeda Munoz, clarinet

String Quartet No. 8 in C minor, Op. 110 (1887) ... Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975)
I. Largo
II. Allegro Molto
III. Allegretto
IV. Largo
V. Largo

Dania Briceno, violin
Aura Hernandez, violin
Ruth Garcia, viola
Alejandro Restrepo Cardozo, cello



    


 

Monday, March 8, 2021

Guest Artist Recital: Crossroads Duo

Michele Gunn, viola and Robert Cruz, piano
3/15/2021 at 7:30 pm
Magale Recital Hall
Natchitoches, Louisiana

PROGRAM

Two Pieces for Viola and Piano ... Frank Bridge (1879-1941)
    Pensiero
    Allegro appassionato

Sonata for Viola and Piano, Op. 147 ... Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975)
    Moderato
    Allegretto
    Adagio

Suite for Viola and Piano (1919) ... Ernest Bloch (1880-1959)
    Lento-Allegro-Moderato
    Allegro ironico
    Lento
    Molto vivo
   
Michele Gunn, viola & Robert Cruz, piano
























1:00 pm - 3:00 pm Master Class