Music of the Baroque

TRIPLE PLAY: BACH, MOZART, TELEMANN

Sunday, May 11, 7:30 PM
First United Methodist Church, Evanston
Ticket Prices: $55, $45, $35
A free pre-concert lecture by Dan Maki begins at 6:30 PM in the church chapel.

Tuesday, May 13, 7:30 PM
Harris Theater, Chicago
(Millennium Park)

Ticket Prices: $75, $60, $50, $40, $30
A free pre-concert lecture by Dan Maki begins at 6:00 PM in the Chicago Cultural Center (Randolph Cafe–north entrance).

 

THIS CONCERT IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF IRWIN J. ASKOW.


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PROGRAM

Georg Philipp Telemann

Concerto for 3 trumpets and timpani

Concerto for 3 trumpets and timpani
   

Johann Pachelbel

Canon and Gigue for 3 violins and continuo

Canon and Gigue for 3 violins and continuo
   

Johann Sebastian Bach

Concerto for 3 violins in D Major

Concerto for 3 violins in D Major

Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major

Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major
   

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Concerto for 3 fortepianos in F Major

Concerto for 3 fortepianos in F Major

 


Music of the Baroque Orchestra

Nicholas Kraemer, conductor

 

 

Sparks will fly in this evening of musical camaraderie as the virtuoso players of the Music of the Baroque Orchestra take center stage in soloist teams of three. The spirit of the period emerges in constantly changing instrumental textures and colors with Principal Guest Conductor Nicholas Kraemer at the podium for an imaginative program that gives "triple play" a exuberantly baroque twist.

"With Kraemer leading from the harpsichord, every facet of the enterprise was tackled with aplomb and palpable joy" Chicago Tribune

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Program Notes

Historians and musicians have long examined the derivation of the word “concerto” in an effort to analyze the relationship between ensemble and soloist. In his Syntagma Musicum (1619), Praetorius describes the concerto as derived from the verb concertare, meaning “to contend or compete,” but also suggests that the genre was perhaps more accurately defined as a form of “harmonious contention.” This tension between harmony and competition was still evident nearly a hundred years later in the writings of Johann Sebastian Bach’s contemporary Johann Mattheson, who described a concerto both as a chamber work and a piece in which soloists vie for attention. From the intricate tapestry of Telemann’s Concerto for 3 trumpets to the renegade harpsichord in Bach’s Brandenburg No. 5, the works on tonight’s program illustrate both definitions of the term. While the genre came into its own in the classical period primarily as a showcase for solo instruments (e.g., Mozart’s Concerto for 3 pianos), baroque composers tended to exploit the concerto’s opportunities for contrasting colors, textures, and sonorities as much as its potential for displaying virtuosity. This is particularly evident in concertos for multiple instruments.

George Philipp Telemann: Concerto for 3 trumpets and timpani in D Major,
TWV 54: D4

In his 1718 autobiography, Telemann confessed, “I must own that since the concerto form was never close to my heart, it was indifferent to me whether I wrote a great many or not.” Ironically, Telemann went on to write a “great many” after all—over a hundred are extant today. His music suggests that Telemann’s professed indifference to the genre may have had more to do with its associations with virtuosity and display than with the form itself. From an aesthetic standpoint, Telemann preferred to write music that would naturally reveal the best qualities of both instrument and performer, rather than push either to the limits. As he poetically phrased it, “Give to every instrument its due/The player will be pleased, and so
will you.”

Based on the four-movement form derived from the Italian chamber concerto (slow—fast—slow—fast), the Concerto for 3 trumpets offers a good illustration of Telemann’s approach to the genre. He eschews showy solo passages throughout the work, and even omits its star players from the lyrical Largo. Instead, soloists serve as an integral part of an intricate musical texture, providing momentary flashes of brilliance rather than dominating the musical landscape.

Johann Sebastian Bach: Concerto for 3 violins in C Major, after BWV 1064

For over twenty years, Johann Sebastian Bach directed Leipzig’s Collegium Musicum—an association of professional musicians and university students that gave weekly concerts at Zimmermann’s Coffee House. In addition to performing many of his instrumental works at the gatherings, it is generally believed that Bach invented the idea of a harpsichord concerto for the group, arranging concertos originally written for melody instruments, such as the violin, for an instrument more typically used by itself or in the continuo. Scholars have worked to unearth these original sources, and while five of the harpsichord concertos correspond to extant works for other instruments, others have been reconstructed from the subsequent harpsichord arrangement. The Concerto for 3 violins in C Major (after the Concerto for 3 harpsichords in C Major, BWV 1056) is one of these re-created works.

Sometimes performed in the key of D Major, the Concerto for 3 violins exemplifies the notion of a concerto as “harmonious contention” rather than overt competition between ensemble and soloist. In the first movement, the solo violins expand on thematic material presented by the larger group, seamlessly fading in and out of the orchestral texture. The soloists come to the foreground in the slow movement, while the ensemble supports their heartrendingly lyrical melody. In the final movement, the contrast between solo and ensemble both provides textural variety and showcases individual performers, as the violinists trade virtuosic statements. A dramatic, almost improvisatory-like passage for the first violin puts an end to the conversation, and a brief ritornello takes the work to a brilliant close.

Johann Pachelbel: Canon and Gigue for 3 violins and continuo in D Major

Though he is primarily remembered today for what has become known as the “Pachelbel Canon,” Johann Pachelbel was recognized by his contemporaries as one of the leading progressive German musicians of the day. An organist, composer, and teacher, Pachelbel was intimately acquainted with the Bach family, and was both godfather to Johann Sebastian’s sister Johanna Juditha and the music teacher of his brother Johann Christoph (who went on to become Johann Sebastian’s teacher). Pachelbel was also extremely well known as a teacher, and exerted sufficient influence on his students that there existed a “Pachelbel” school of composition. Of his seven children, four went on to become famous in their own right. Wilhelm Hieronymus Pachelbel succeeded his father as an important German organist and composer; Charles Theodore settled in America, where he gave the first concert of record in the colonies; Johann [John] Michael was an accomplished instrument maker who performed in Kingston, Jamaica, in 1728; and a daughter, Amalia, earned an excellent reputation in Germany as an artist.
Although many works by Pachelbel were published during his lifetime, the Canon and Gigue in D Major was lost until 1919, when it was published for the first time in a German musicological journal. Around 1970, a recording by Jean-Francois Paillard kicked off a nearly unprecedented surge in popularity, transforming it from an unknown piece by an obscure contemporary of Bach into one of today’s most recognizable classical compositions, adapted and imitated by everyone from pop musicians to George Rochberg and Brian Eno. Composed for three violins and continuo, the canon is a series of variations on a two-measure repeating bass line, to which the lighthearted gigue provides a lively contrast.

Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major, BWV 1050

While the technical challenges of the six Brandenburg concertos suggest that Bach originally composed them for his famously skilled ensemble in Cothen, their descriptive title hints at something more mundane. It was no secret that Bach was dissatisfied with his situation at Cothen and hoped to gain a position elsewhere, and the collection—dedicated in 1721 to Christian Ludwig, the Margrave of Brandenburg—may have served as an elaborate musical “resume.” As Bach expressed in the dedication of the presentation copy, “…I very humbly beg Your Royal Highness to have the goodness to continue Your good graces toward me, and to be convinced that I have nothing so much at heart as the wish to be employed in matters more worthy of You and Your service….” The Margrave may well have been appreciative of Bach’s efforts and compensated him accordingly, but employment proved elusive. Although they didn’t secure him a job, the concertos have long since earned a place among Bach’s most beloved works.

While Bach himself grouped the works for presentation to the Margrave, whether the Brandenburg concertos constitute a meaningful collection has been the subject of debate. The collection’s diverse scoring, odd tonal structure, and stylistic variety has led some to conclude that the Brandenburg concertos are completely unrelated. Historians such as Michael Marissen trace many common themes in the works, however—the subversion of traditional social hierarchies among them. Although Marissen’s conclusions are controversial, the Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major provides an interesting example of his theories. According to Marissen, Lutheran theology places value on social structure, but considers it far less important than God’s spiritual realm. In the margins of Bach’s personal Bible, comments in the composer’s handwriting suggest that he may have been thinking about this in relation to music. Although we will never know Bach’s intent, his unorthodox addition of harpsichord to the solo group in the fifth Brandenburg certainly makes a striking statement about expected roles. The soloists compete for attention from the start, with the harpsichord’s bravura statements becoming more intense as the first movement unfolds. Suddenly, the harpsichord’s increasing unrest erupts in a strikingly virtuosic, unaccompanied episode that transgresses all boundaries of genre, harmony, and rhythm. (The moment’s effect is further heightened by the fact that the harpsichordist also serves in the continuo, creating the sense that the performer is “breaking loose” from the ensemble.) Marissen concludes that by making the harpsichord not only a soloist but also the most prominent player, Bach might be pointing out that traditional roles can be changed—and are therefore nothing more than a human construct. The second movement features the soloists alone (as in the second Brandenburg) in lyrical counterpoint, while the harpsichord again dominates the third movement in torrents of dazzling figuration.

W. A. Mozart: Concerto for three pianos in F Major, K. 242 (Lodron)

Written in 1776 for the Countess Antonia Lodron of Salzburg and her two daughters, Aloisia and Giuseppina (who were likely Mozart’s students), the Concerto for three pianos in F Major, K. 242 was masterfully tailored to the skill and experience of each performer. While two of the solo parts are moderately difficult, the third—composed for the younger daughter—strikes a careful balance between musical contribution and lower technical difficulty. Although it is sometimes dismissed as insubstantial (perhaps in part because of its domestic origins), Mozart clearly valued the “Lodron” Concerto, and reprised the work himself on several occasions. According to his letters to his father, Mozart performed the concerto in Augsburg and again at the composer Cannabich’s house in Paris in 1778. He subsequently arranged the concerto for two pianos, reportedly playing it with his sister Nannerl in 1780.

Throughout all three movements, Mozart’s ability to showcase each soloist while respecting their technical limitations is remarkable. The opening Allegro has a clear, straightforward texture that is accentuated by the orchestra’s relatively limited forces—strings plus oboes and horns. When the soloists enter, Mozart reserves the flashiest passages for the first and second piano parts, carefully according the third piano just enough thematic material so that it becomes more than a supporting role. In the lyrical Adagio—one of only two slow movements in Mozart’s piano concertos to display this tempo marking—the first two pianos take over, while the third serves more as background accompaniment. Mozart rectifies the imbalance somewhat in the final movement, an elegant rondo marked Tempo di Menuetto, writing each solo part so that his pupils could shine to the best of their abilities. The cadenzas are also noteworthy; although Mozart usually improvised them afresh for each performance, in the “Lodron” Concerto, Mozart wrote out the cadenzas for each performer in advance.

© Jennifer More Glagov 2008