Tuesday, August 31, 2021

MUS 1500 Student Recital includes Aill Harris, cellist

 

Tuesday, August 31, 2021 at 12:30pm in Magale

  Allemande from Cello Suite No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1008 .... Bach (1685-1750)

Aill Harris, cello


 

Saturday, August 21, 2021

Faculty Cello Recital, 8/31/2021, Magale Recital Hall, at 7:30 pm

Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924)

Elégie, Op. 24 (1883)

Romance in A Major, Op. 69 (1894)

Sérénade, Op. 98 (1908)

John Price, piano

Vincent D’Indy (1851-1931)

 Sonata in D Major for Cello and Piano, Op. 84 (1924-1925)
          Gavotte en Rondeau: Tranquillement
          Air: Trés lent
          Gigue: Gaîment
          Entrée: Modéré

Chialing Hsieh, piano

Darius Milhaud (1892-1974)

 Sonata for Cello and Piano, Op. 377 (1960)
          Aniné, Gai
          Lent, Grave
          Vif et Joueaux

Dan Ley, piano

 This program is dedicated to the memory of my beloved mother, Helen Christopher, who passed away on July 4. 

Program Notes by Jackson Harmeyer

This evening’s recital by cellist Paul Christopher features  music  by  three  French  composers,  each  of  whom  symbolized  a  different school  of  thought  in  the  opening  decades  of  the  twentieth  century.  While  Gabriel  Fauré  belonged  to  the academic establishment, Vincent  d’Indy was the true conservative, holding steadfast to Romantic  ideals  while  Fauré  pursued  new  modes  of  expression.  Their  younger  colleague,  Darius  Milhaud,  although  at  times  a  radical, melded  tradition  into  a  distinctive  voice  and  prolific  output.  Despite  their  differences,  however,  there is also much which connects these composers, all of  whom  sought  a  renewed  vision  of  French  music.  This recital is dedicated to the memory of Paul’s mother, Helen  Christopher, who passed away on July 4, 2021.

These  days  Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924)  is  best‐
remembered for his Requiem—an hour‐long composition 
for  chorus,  two  vocal  soloists,  organ,  and  orchestra.  Yet 
Fauré  was  more  often  a  practitioner  of  small  forms  as 
evidenced by his charming songs and delightful chamber 
music. While some of his contemporaries considered him 
a dangerous Modernist, he never defied tonality as did the 
composers  of  the  next  generation. His musical  language 
was instead one of sensuous colors, subtle harmonies, and 
poetically‐crafted  melodies.  It  represents  a  French 
sensibility  far  removed  from  the  weighty  orchestrations 
and  fierce  drama  of  Richard  Wagner  and  the  Germanic 
ethos he exemplified, although the experience of Wagner 
had  been  essential  to  the  Frenchman’s  harmonic 
development. Fauré expressed his interest in music at an 
early age and, by nine, he was accepted to the renowned 
Parisian  music  school  Ecole  Niedermeyer.  Among  his 
teachers  was  Camille  Saint‐Saëns  who  would  become  a 
lifelong  friend.  After  graduation,  Fauré  worked  as  an 
organist and local music teacher, so that true recognition 
for his compositional abilities only came in 1896 when he 
was  appointed  professor  of  composition  at  the  Paris 
Conservatoire.  Ultimately  in  1905  Fauré  became  this 
institution’s director for a period lasting fifteen years until
1920. His pupils included Maurice Ravel, Nadia Boulanger, 
Charles Koechlin, and other prominent figures who would 
guide French music in the years after World War I.

Fauré wrote several pieces for cello and piano throughout 
his career. In addition to the two sonatas which are both 
late works, there are also five character pieces, spanning 
the years 1880 to 1908. His Élégie, Op. 24 is the earliest of 
these,  composed  in  1880  and  premiered  in  1883  by  its 
dedicatee, the cellist Jules Loëb. It was initially intended as
the  slow movement  of  a  cello  sonata,  a  response  to  his 
First  Violin  Sonata  completed  a  few  years  earlier.  Yet, 
when Fauré showed the finished movement to Saint‐Saëns 
and  Saint‐Saëns  programmed  it  at  a  concert  he  was 
hosting, it gained such immediate popularity there was no 
going back and crafting other movements around it. The 
somber  melody  offered  by  the  cello  is  expressive  and 
direct—one  of  the  last  times, according  to  scholar  Jean‐
Michel  Nectoux,  that  Fauré  permitted  “such  a  direct 
expression  of  pathos”  in  his  music.  Subsequent  works 
were  to  be  “more  introverted  and  discreet.”  From  the 
opening  statement  with  its  cool  restraint,  the  cello 
develops  this  melody  into  more  passionate,  less‐
controlled areas across the A section. The piano takes on a 
greater role in the intervening B section when it offers a 
consoling countermelody to the cello. The cello attempts 
to  make  this  melody  its  own  but  a  tumultuous  cadenza 
ensues. This  results in  the  return  of  the  first  theme at a 
stressful octave higher than the original. There is release 
as the piano reiterates its secondary theme and the cello 
reluctantly joins in. The  final moments are  desolate,  but 
the piano remains as caring companion to the cello.

Beyond the Élégie, we also hear Fauré’s Romance, Op. 69 
and  Sérénade,  Op.  98,  composed  in  1894  and  1908, 
respectively. Set in A major, the serene Romance provides 
a  marked  contrast  to  the  powerful  Élégie.  Apparently  it 
was envisioned as a work for cello and organ to be played 
in  one  of  the  church  settings  so  familiar  to  Fauré.  This 
original, nevertheless, was not rediscovered or published 
until the year 2000. The melody additionally appears in the 
song Soir of the composer’s Opus 83 where its text reflects 
on daylight passing into evening and the mysterious new 
world  that  emerges  in  the  darkness.  Something  similar 
happens in the version we hear where, even without this 
text, we enter  into a  nocturnal world  full  of  shades and 
subtleties.  Our  last  piece  by  Fauré,  the  Sérénade,  was 
written  as  a  gift  to  Pablo  Casals  upon  his  wedding 
engagement. This Catalan cellist had become a close friend 
and  advocate  to  Fauré,  performing  his  Élégie  frequently 
and  eventually  premiering  its  orchestral  arrangement  in 
1901.  He  seems  to  have  never  publicly  performed  the 
Sérénade, however, which is somewhat unsurprising given 
that  Casals  had  kept  the  Bach  Cello  Suites  private  for  a 
dozen  years,  studying  and  rehearsing  them  by  himself, 
after  he  had  discovered  their  forgotten  manuscript  in  a 
thrift shop. The Sérénade suggests a return to the Baroque 
with its middle section in particular resembling a rigaudon, 
a French dance which was popular in the seventeenth and 
eighteenth  centuries.  Its  outer  sections,  meanwhile, 
possess  Spanish  traces,  including  modal  intervals  and 
plucked,  guitar‐like  chords.  These  Baroque  and  Spanish 
elements can be taken to represent the work’s dedicatee, 
Casals, harking to his interests and his heritage.

If  in  Fauré  we  observe  a  conscious  attempt  to  remove 
Germanic  influence,  then  in  our  next  composer,  his 
contemporary  Vincent d’Indy (1851-1931),  we  find  an 
opposing allegiance to German aesthetic aims, indeed, an 
attempt  to  revitalize  French  music  upon  German 
scaffolding.  Like  his mentor  César Franck with whom  his 
studies began in 1872,  d’Indy  found  ties with Franz Liszt 
and  Richard Wagner.  Like Franck and  Liszt,  d’Indy wrote 
symphonic  poems,  including  several eloquent  depictions 
of the sea and landscapes of southern France. Here as well 
as  in  absolute  works,  d’Indy  applied  the  cyclic  forms 
investigated  by  these  predecessors.  In  1876  d’Indy 
attended  the  premiere  of  Wagner’s  Der  Ring  des 
Nibelungen  in  Bayreuth  and  found  this  experience 
emotionally overwhelming. His own music dramas would 
be of mixed quality, but still apply Wagner’s leitmotiv and 
his advances in orchestration. All four men further viewed 
Ludwig van Beethoven as a common ancestor in structural 
and  dramatic  matters,  although  Andrew  Thomas  has 
commented  of  d’Indy  that  “his  famed  veneration  for 
Beethoven  and  Franck  has  unfortunately  obscured  the 
individual  character  of  his  own  compositions.”  His 
frustrating  personality  must  have  something  to  do  with 
this too: he often expressed controversial political beliefs 
and crusaded against music that did not meet his approval. 
In  1892  he  refused a  position at  the  Paris  Conservatoire 
and instead founded the Schola Cantorum where he could 
instruct how he saw fit. Although his teaching was heavy 
on counterpoint and dismissive of what he considered the 
formlessness  and  harmonic  sensationalism  of  Claude 
Debussy,  d’Indy  became  an  important  mentor  to  Albert 
Roussel, for instance, while his writings had later influence 
on Olivier Messiaen and Heitor Villa‐Lobos.

The Cello Sonata in D major, Op. 84 is a relatively late work 
by  d’Indy,  composed  in  1924  and  1925.  It  is  in  four 
movements in a conventional nineteenth‐century pattern, 
and its musical content still owes much to that legacy. An 
additional  element,  however,  is  its  incorporation  of 
Baroque  dances—the  gavotte  and  gigue—as  well  as  an 
operatic air as its Third Movement. As had Fauré, his pupil 
Ravel,  and  indeed  many  French  composers  in  the  first 
decades of the twentieth century, d’Indy demonstrates an 
affinity for earlier music. His own affinity though has more 
to  do  with  a  devout  Catholic  faith  and  his  work  at  the 
Schola Cantorum where Gregorian chant and Palestrinian 
polyphony were practiced than a stern defiance of German 
Romantic  norms.  The  Sonata’s  First  Movement,  Entrée. 
Modéré,  moves  at  a  relaxed  pace  as  it  follows  several 
different  ideas  over  its  span.  Its  rhythmic  and  metric 
freedom  is  suggestive  of  the  Baroque,  even  if  more 
concrete  references  are  missing  from  this  opening 
movement. The Second Movement, Gavotte en Rondeau. 
Tranquillement,  has  a  wit  and  charm  about  it  expressed 
initially  in  the  cello’s  pizzicato  and  piano’s  matching 
staccato chords. The quick runs later in the piano part are 
particularly beautiful. The Third Movement, Air. Très lent, 
is almost sung with its long melody and sustained notes. 
Except for its chromaticism which recommends it more to 
a  seventeenth‐century  operatic  lament,  this  melody  has 
the mostly stepwise motion and even divisions of chant. 
Its  deep  melancholy  is  quickly  dispelled  by  the  cheery 
Fourth  Movement,  marked  Gigue.  Gaîment.  Here  the 
nobility and interplay of the first two movements return as 
cello and piano again trade ideas in a friendly dialogue.

The Cello Sonata in D major, Op. 84 is a relatively late work 
by  d’Indy,  composed  in  1924  and  1925.  It  is  in  four 
movements in a conventional nineteenth‐century pattern, 
and its musical content still owes much to that legacy. An 
additional  element,  however,  is  its  incorporation  of 
Baroque  dances—the  gavotte  and  gigue—as  well  as  an 
operatic air as its Third Movement. As had Fauré, his pupil 
Ravel,  and  indeed  many  French  composers  in  the  first 
decades of the twentieth century, d’Indy demonstrates an 
affinity for earlier music. His own affinity though has more 
to  do  with  a  devout  Catholic  faith  and  his  work  at  the 
Schola Cantorum where Gregorian chant and Palestrinian 
polyphony were practiced than a stern defiance of German 
Romantic  norms.  The  Sonata’s  First  Movement,  Entrée. 
Modéré,  moves  at  a  relaxed  pace  as  it  follows  several 
different  ideas  over  its  span.  Its  rhythmic  and  metric 
freedom  is  suggestive  of  the  Baroque,  even  if  more 
concrete  references  are  missing  from  this  opening 
movement. The Second Movement, Gavotte en Rondeau. 
Tranquillement,  has  a  wit  and  charm  about  it  expressed 
initially  in  the  cello’s  pizzicato  and  piano’s  matching 
staccato chords. The quick runs later in the piano part are 
particularly beautiful. The Third Movement, Air. Très lent, 
is almost sung with its long melody and sustained notes. 
Except for its chromaticism which recommends it more to 
a  seventeenth‐century  operatic  lament,  this  melody  has 
the mostly stepwise motion and even divisions of chant. 
Its  deep  melancholy  is  quickly  dispelled  by  the  cheery 
Fourth  Movement,  marked  Gigue.  Gaîment.  Here  the 
nobility and interplay of the first two movements return as 
cello and piano again trade ideas in a friendly dialogue. 

With  few  exceptions  it  seems  that  the  music  of  Darius 
Milhaud (1892-1974) is today more often written about 
than performed. Scholars like to discuss such topics as his 
explorations  into  jazz  and  Latin  American  music,  his 
pioneering experiments with percussion instruments, his 
unique approach to polytonality, and his radical early years 
as a member of Les Six. Yet only a handful of the more than 
four  hundred  compositions  Milhaud  wrote  are  regularly 
performed. Indeed his expansive catalog contains twelve 
symphonies,  numerous  concerti  for  a  wide  variety  of 
instruments,  eighteen  string  quartets,  and  more  than  a  
dozen  operas.  Milhaud  was  also  an  important  teacher, 
especially  after  World  War  II  when  he  taught  at  Mills 
College  in  California  and  at  the  Paris  Conservatoire.  His 
students included not only “serious” composers like Philip 
Glass, William Bolcom, and Iannis Xenakis but also figures 
more associated with popular music like Dave Brubeck and 
Burt  Bacharach.  Brubeck  even  named  his  son  Darius  in 
honor of this mentor. Perhaps one reason why the music 
of  Milhaud  is  underplayed  is  because  it  is  difficult  to 
contextualize.  Where  exactly  does  one  begin  exploring 
Milhaud’s  vast  catalog?  Paul  Christopher  has  naturally 
gravitated toward chamber music with cello, and over the 
past few years he has performed Milhaud's Élégie, Op. 251 
for  cello  and  piano  and  his  Piano  Trio,  Op.  428.  This 
evening he tackles Milhaud’s Cello Sonata, Op. 377.

The  Cello  Sonata was  composed in  1959 and  belongs  to 
Milhaud’s late period in which he synthesized the clarity of 
his early style with the feeling of his middle works. Milhaud 
once reflected of chamber music: “It is a form, the quartet 
above all, that conduces to meditation, to the expression 
of what is deepest in oneself […] It is at once an intellectual
discipline and the crucible of the most intense emotion.” 
Certainly we hear these contrasts in his Cello Sonata where 
there  is  much  rigor,  but  especially  in  the  slow  middle 
movement an outpouring of deep emotion. The Sonata is 
in  three  movements.  The  First  Movement,  Anime  ‐  Gai, 
emphasizes separation, both between its two players and 
also between the stream of musical ideas they convey. If 
the instruments are not exactly at odds, then there at least 
seems to be some disagreement with each asserting itself 
at  different  times  in  a  constantly  evolving  conversation. 
The  Second  Movement,  Lent  ‐  Grave,  finds  the  two 
instruments  echoing  each  other  in  elongated  melodic 
statements. These moments can be particularly expressive 
when the cello reaches inward to be answered equally by 
the piano or vice versa. The Third Movement, Vif et Joyeux, 
has all the intensity and joy its French title indicates with 
musical  motives  which  are  eccentric  yet  entirely 
committed.  After a  brief  prelude,  fugal writing  begins in 
the right hand of the piano, to be joined by the left hand 
and  cello  in  turn.  As  this  musical  landscape  reaches  its 
climax,  one  quick exchange  finally  brings  the movement 
and  piece  to  its  close. Despite  its  clear merits,  the  Cello 
Sonata remains one of those virtually unknown works by 
Milhaud, not receiving its  first recordings until the 1990s 
and still minimal attention since then.

Monday, June 21, 2021

Marshall Symphony Orchestra

 Spring Strings: The French Connection

Saturday, June 19, 2021, at 7:30 pm
East Texas Baptist University
Marshall, Texas

Sunday, June 20, 2021, at 3:00 pm
Cumberland Presbyterian Church
Jefferson, Texas

PROGRAM

Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G major, BWV 1048 ... J.S. Bach (1685-1750)
Allegro
Adagio in E Minor
Allegro

Lyric for Strings ... George Walker (1922-2018)

Concerto for Organ, Timpani, and Strings, in G Minor, FP 93 ... F. Poulenc (1899-1963)

St. Paul Suite in C Major, Op. 29, No. 2 ... G. Holst (1874-1934)
Jig
Ostinato
Intermezzo
Finale



Thursday, June 3, 2021

New Music on the Bayou Festival

 New Music on the Bayou Festival
June 3, 4, and 5, 2021
Monroe and Ruston, Louisiana

PROGRAM of performances by Paul Christopher

Gravity by Noberto Oldrini
Thursday, June 3, 2021 at 10:00 am
University of Louisiana at Monroe
Biedenharn Recital Hall
200 University Avenue
Monroe, LA

Riverdaughter by Nick Virzi
Friday, June 4, 2021 at 11:00 am
Louisiana Tech University
F. Jay Taylor Visual Arts Center
Ruston, LA

Friday, June 4, 2021, at 7:00 pm
Ruston Artisans
203 West Alabama
Ruston, LA

Trio for Clarinet, Violin, and Cello by Mark Prince Lee
Saturday, June 5, 2021, at 10:00 am
Black Bayou Wildlife Refuge
480 Richland Place
Monroe, LA




















Gravity by Oldrini
















Trio by Lee



















Scherben by Strieder















Composers Nick Virzi and Rob Smith


































Friday, May 21, 2021

Charleston International Music Competition - Spring 2021 Results

Congratulations to Santiago Uribe-Cardona 

First Prize Winner in the Cello age group 20-24 years

Charleston International Music Competition

Santiago Uribe-Cardona NSU’23 was born in Cartagena, Colombia 20 years ago in a family of non-musicians and started his musical studies at age 6 playing the drums and taking private guitar lessons. At age 11 he started to take cello lessons at his high school music program under the tutelage of Prof. Andres Muñoz, with Mr. Muñoz Santiago attended the Cartagena International Music festival where he participated in master classes with renowned musician such as Denis Shapovalov, Alvaro Bitran, Santiago Cañón Valencia, Evelien Prakke among others. 

At age 16 he traveled to Paris, France where he was chosen to be part of the Binational Colombo-French Orchestra and performed on a side-by-side as assistant principal cellist at the Paris Philharmonie with musician from Les Siecles and The Paris Philharmonic, the next year he started his professional studies under Prof. Paul Christopher at NSU where he is pursuing a degree for Music Performance and Business Administration. In 2020 Uribe-Cardona performed at the CFIM with the Supernova Orchestra as assistant principal on a side-by-side with musician from the Royal Concertgebow and Camerata Austria. Uribe-Cardona likes to spends his free time running, swimming, reading, cooking and sleeping. His plans for the future are being part of a major symphony orchestra and to be a cello professor at a major conservatory.







Afternoon Musical Soiree featuring the Music of J.S. Bach (1685-1750)

Hosted by Wayne and Sally Halm

Ruth Garcia, violin, and Santiago Uribe-Cardona, cello

Natchitoches, Louisiana

May 8, 2021, at 5:00 pm

PROGRAM

Invention No. 1 in C Major, BWV. 772

Sonata No. 1 in G Minor for Violin Solo, BWV. 1001
Adagio
Presto

Suite No. 6 in D Major for Violoncello Solo, BWV. 1012
Prelude
Allemande
Courante
Sarabande
Gavotte 1 and 2
Gigue









Thursday, May 13, 2021

Congratulations to alumnus Alonso Jose Restrepo Cardozo!

 Congratulations to Alonso Jose Restrepo Cardozo on his excellent Master's degree recital on March 29, 2021. In May he graduated with his Master of Music in Violoncello Performance from LSU School of Music studying with Dennis Parker. Alonso will be returning home to Cartagena, Columbia, where he accepted a fulltime position titled, Teacher of Violoncello, at the Escuela de Musica Ciudad Escolar Comfenalco Cartegena.



Congratulations to Alejandro Restrepo Cardozo!

 Alejandro Restrepo Cardozo graduated May 2021 with an Bachelor of Music in Violoncello Performance! Fall 2021, he will continue his studies at the University of Southern Mississippi as a graduate assistant to Dr. Alexander Russakovsky.



Monday, April 5, 2021

Faculty Recital: A Tribute to Luciano Berio

Magale Recital Hall

April 8, 2021, at 7:30 pm

Natchitoches, Louisiana

LUCIANO BERIO FESTIVAL

Adam Hudlow, trumpet • Paul Christopher, cello

Paul Forsyth, saxophone • Malena McLaren, clarinet

Justin Kujawski, double bass

Program Notes by Jackson Harmeyer, NSU Alumnus 2013

In 1957, in a lecture titled The Development of Serial Technique,the Italian composer Luigi Nono characterized himself, Bruno Maderna, Pierre Boulez, and Karlheinz Stockhausen as belonging to a so-called Darmstadt School whose role in history it was to extend the serial practices of Arnold Schoenberg and Anton Webern into an overarching compositional aesthetic. Whereas the serialization of pitch was Schoenberg’s main concern, Webern had envisioned bringing serial structure to other musical elements, like rhythm and instrumentation. Yet, according to Nono, it was his own generation (i.e. the Darmstadt School) who had finally accomplished this feat in what has become known as integral serialism. Throughout the 1950s, this was the unified mission of the composers who would gather each summer in the German city of Darmstadt to discuss and share ideas. There were of course others in attendance, but Nono considered these four to be leaders and proceeded to demonstrate their accomplishments through analyses of their scores. Interestingly Nono had previewed that he would also discuss Luciano Berio (1925-2003), the composer whose music tonight’s Festival honors. In no surviving version of the text, however, does Nono analyze the music of Berio. In a written exchange, Berio had apparently recommended, You should secure the fact that the series is dead and buried: it is used only to prepare the material from which the music is invented. This suggests that perhaps Berio did not see himself as part of the logical, historical progression Nono theorized; that his music was separate from theirs. Indeed, soon after Nono delivered his lecture, disputes would arise to divide the Darmstadt School, so that the common purpose of the 1950s was replaced by a much-fragmented avant-garde in the 1960s.

Luciano Berio was born in the town of Oneglia in northwestern Italy. At the conclusion of World War II, he entered the Milan Conservatory where he studied with Giorgio Ghedini, gaining his first exposure to Modernist music primarily through the guise of the various neo-tonalities. Serialism was not emphasized, so after graduation Berio applied for the 1952 Tanglewood summer festival in Massachusetts where he could study with Luigi Dallapiccola who was then considered the foremost Italian exponent of serialism. While in the United States, Berio also encountered electronic music for the first time, and upon his return to Milan found employment at the Italian radio corporation, RAI. There he proposed the creation of an electronic music studio; when this Studio di Fonologia opened in 1955, he was made its co-director alongside Maderna whom he had met two years earlier at a conference dedicated to electronic music. Berio and Maderna became fast friends, and this initial connection would over time lead to many others. In 1956 Berio attended the Darmstadt summer courses for the first time. He regardless maintained his aesthetic distance, perhaps because he arrived relatively late after his own idiom had already formed through experiences in Milan and at Tanglewood. Still there were many parallel developments between Berio and the Darmstadt elite, like his utilization of open form in his celebrated piece Circles. This composition was written in 1960 for his first wife, the American mezzo-soprano Cathy Berberian, and it sets the poetry of e. e. cummings.

Even in his earliest works, Berio sought an approachability that the Darmstadt School stubbornly disavowed. His works accordingly won acclaim both in Europe and the United States, so that from the 1960s he was receiving prestigious commissions and teaching posts. The latter included stints at Mills College (as substitute for an ailing Darius Milhaud), Harvard, and Juilliard while his greatest compositional success came in 1968 with Sinfonia for eight amplified voices and orchestra. Commissioned by Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic for the orchestra’s 125th anniversary, Sinfonia is one of very few works by an avant-garde composer to win popular approval. While its Second Movement honors the recently-assassinated Martin Luther King Jr., its Third Movement fully assimilates the Scherzo of Gustav Mahler’s Second Symphony. With this familiar material as undercurrent, additional quotes and allusions to Debussy, Ravel, Strauss, Stravinsky, and even his colleague Boulez (to name only a few) are overlaid into the crowded texture. With contemporaneous works by Bernd Alois Zimmermann and Peter Maxwell Davies, Sinfonia is one of the defining works of polystylism and early Post-Modernism; it would also inspire the Russian composer Alfred Schnittke as he made polystylism his trademark idiom over the following decades. Aside from Sinfonia, the series of fourteen Sequenzas is probably Berio’s other major compositional accomplishment, but more on these momentarily. Before his death in 2003, Berio would serve as director of the electro-acoustic section of IRCAM in the 1970s, found his own electro-acoustic center at the Villa Strozzi in the 1980s, premiere two operas at La Scala, and deliver the Charles Eliot Norton Lectures at Harvard. Evidently Berio was someone who could straddle the intellectual, cultural establishment and the fierce polemics of the mid-twentieth century avant-garde.

Our program tonight begins with Gute Nacht, a 1986 work for solo trumpet. This short piece, lasting only one minute, was Berio’s contribution to a volume entitled Fanfares: New Trumpet Pieces for Young Players released by Universal Edition. The volume was edited by Edward H. Tarr, the American trumpeter who did so much to revive the early trumpet repertoire, especially the works of Giuseppe Torelli, while also passionately advocating for Modern music. Aside from Berio, other composers who contributed to this volume included Morton Feldman, Mauricio Kagel, and Wolfgang Rihm. The clear model for Gute Nacht is Taps, the bugle call used by the United States military and at funerals. Berio’s version, however, contains some rhythmic hesitation and chromatic distortion as if the young player has not quite mastered the desired tune. Afterwards we hear Les mots sont allés which Berio subtitled a recitative for solo cello. This work was commissioned and premiered by the cellist Mstislav Rostropovich in honor of Paul Sacher, the Swiss conductor and music patron, in celebration of his seventieth birthday. Pieces were commissioned from twelve prominent composers, including Boulez, Benjamin Britten, Henri Dutilleux, and others. Most of these works were then premiered by Rostropovich at a special concert on May 2, 1976. Like others in this cycle, Berio’s piece translates Sacher’s name into pitch material, so that its letters are represented through the pitch classes, Eb-A-C-B-E-D. These six notes are played clearly and deliberately at the outset before variants on this theme begin. The texture becomes increasingly busier as the music proceeds. Only at the end does momentum slow as the first two pitches, Eb and A, are reiterated for tonal closure.

The majority of our program is dedicated to three Sequenzas. This series, begun in 1958, saw over the next forty-four years the completion of fourteen solo works for many of the instruments of the orchestra as well as a few outliers like piano, guitar, and accordion. They are at once virtuosic showpieces written for the premier players of their day and works concerned with the intelligent communication of musical ideas between composer, performer, and listener. They treat the solo instrument as cultural artifact and several explicitly engage with aspects of its performance and social history. Often this is done with humor and irony, challenging not only the performer’s technical ability but also their emotional resolve. We first hear Sequenza VIIb for soprano saxophone, an adaptation of the original work which was for oboe. Indeed several of the Sequenzas exist in multiple versions, and Berio sometimes integrated a Sequenza or its ideas into ensemble pieces. The oboist Heinz Holliger was the dedicatee and first performer of Sequenza VII at its completion in 1969. Berio maintained that all of his Sequenzas for monophonic instruments require a polyphonic listening. He commented of Sequenza VII, in particular, [Here] I carry on the research of a latent polyphony putting into perspective the complex sound structures of the instrument with an ever-present ‘tonic’: a B-natural that can be played pianissimo by any other instrument, behind the stage or in the audience. This drone provides a harmonic foundation from which sounds can emerge and against which the soloist can react. This remains true of the version for soprano saxophone, created by Claude Delangle in 1993 and premiered by him on May 20 of that year in Strasbourg. A second version for oboe, revised from this saxophone version, was created by Jacqueline Leclair in 2000 and termed Sequenza VIIa.

Sequenza IX for solo clarinet, composed in 1980, also exists in versions for alto saxophone and bass clarinet, although it is the original which we hear tonight. The clarinetist Michel Arrignon was the dedicatee and first performer, giving its premiere in Paris. According to Berio, Sequenza IX is concerned with melody and opposes a seven-note set whose register is largely fixed with a second five-note set which continues to change register. He wrote of the work, “It is essentially a long melody implying like almost every melody redundancy, symmetries, transformations, and returns. The contrast of the two sets forms the basis for melodic development. Our program concludes with Sequenza XIVb, an adaptation for double bass of the original for cello. Nevertheless in this case the two versions were only created two years apart: the original of 2002 was one of the final works Berio composed while its second version was an authorized adaptation by bassist Stefano Scodanibbio completed in 2004, a year after the composer’s death. Scodanibbio gave the premiere on June 15, 2004 in Stuttgart. The role played by the dedicatee of the cello version, Rohan de Saram, however, was crucial to the work’s composition and cannot be forgotten. This cellist of Sri Lankan origin introduced Berio to several instruments indigenous to this island nation in the Indian Ocean. The Kandyan drum, in particular, gave Berio the inspiration needed to approach the long history of the cello. Berio noted that All aspects of this piece live a double life, so that while the cello is often played in a traditional manner, the performer must also, for instance, tap the body of the instrument as if he were a percussionist. These aspects, as with previous Sequenzas, carry over into the version for double bass.

© 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.