Well, I hadn’t intended to head in to New York today, but I can’t resist this program: the world premiere of Adolphus Hailstork’s Symphony No. 4, alongside Zhou Tian, composer’s spectacular Concerto for Orchestra and Jennifer Higdon’s flute concerto “The Light We Can Hear,” with Valerie Coleman the soloist. As an added bonus: only the second performance ever of John Thomas Douglass’ “The Pilgrim: Grand Overture.”
Douglass, a highly-regarded violinist, was the first Black American to write an opera (“Virginia’s Ball” in 1868). He settled in New York in the 1880s. Among his pupils was David Mannes, later concertmaster of the New York Symphony Orchestra, one of the root organizations that became the New York Philharmonic.
Mannes cofounded the Colored Music Settlement School in his teacher’s honor. He was also a founder of what is now known as the Mannes School of Music.
The Mannes Orchestra will be conducted by David Hayes, tonight at Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center.
The price of a ticket (before disproportionate service charges)? $6.50. Sign me up!
Alan Hovhaness’ music has frequently been described as transporting. But did you know that one of his symphonies actually went to space?
According to astronaut Rusty Schweickart, each of the crewmen who took part in NASA’s Apollo 9 mission were allowed to bring their own cassettes, which could be played in special players to keep the tapes from unraveling in zero gravity. Schweickart’s mix-tape included works by Ralph Vaughan Williams and Alan Hovhaness. One would assume from his choice of Hovhaness – the Symphony No. 2, “Mysterious Mountain” – that the Vaughan Williams must have been the “Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis,” with which there is a certain spiritual kinship. Great music with which to reflect on the majesty and mystery of space.
However, “mysteriously,” Schweikart was unable to locate his cassette until about the ninth day of the ten-day mission. He later noted, wryly, that his crewmates were not enthusiastic about his playlist.
Given the time frame of the Apollo 9 mission, which took place from March 3-13, 1969, Schweikart’s “Mysterious Mountain” would have been the classic recording made by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra (at the time the only commercial recording of the work in existence). It’s interesting to contemplate that, in 1969, both composers, Hovhaness and Vaughan Williams, would have been considered contemporary. “Mysterious Mountain” was composed in 1955.
I don’t know for certain about the inclusion of the “Tallis Fantasia,” but a Google search has turned up a book, “Foothold in the Heavens” by Ben Evans. The content is paywalled, but from a blurb in the description it looks as if Schweikart’s cassette might actually have included Vaughan Williams’ Christmas cantata “Hodie,” composed in 1953-54. As a dyed-in-the-wool Vaughan Williams fanatic, I happen to love the piece, but if this is true, no wonder it drove his shipmates to “lose” the tape!
Listen for yourself:
Hovhaness, “Mysterious Mountain”
Vaughan Williams, “Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis”
Vaughan Williams, “Hodie”
Happy birthday, Alan Hovhaness. Your music was literally out of this world!
Maurice Ravel was one of the greatest of French composers. Reluctantly, he also became the teacher of one of England’s.
Ralph Vaughan Williams studied in Paris with Ravel for three months in 1907-08. Ravel betrayed some hesitancy at first. He took few pupils, but this untidy bear of an Englishman was not about to take no for an answer. Despite his earthy disposition (his response to Ravel’s assignment to write a minuet in the manner of Mozart was met with an unprintable response), Vaughan Williams quickly earned his teacher’s admiration and soon his friendship. Ravel later remarked of Vaughan Williams, “He is my only pupil who does not write my music.” That is to say, RVW remained his own man.
For his part, Vaughan Williams credited Ravel with having helped him to overcome the heavy Teutonic influence on his earlier training. Ravel had the effect of lightening the textures in Vaughan Williams’ music and sharpening its focus. RVW, already in his mid-30s and three years older than his teacher, learned his lessons well (at least the ones he considered valid), assimilated what he found useful, and applied it to the achievement of his own objectives. It could be said that Ravel’s greatest gift to his English pupil was the courage to be himself.
Ravel organized the first French performance of Vaughan Williams’ “On Wenlock Edge” in Paris in 1912. RVW later recollected that it was one of the worst things he’d ever heard. But he was thankful for Ravel’s advocacy in a country that rarely showed much interest in English music. Ravel also visited Vaughan Williams in London and quite enjoyed steak and kidney pudding with stout at Waterloo Station.
The two friends continued to correspond through World War I, during which both served as, among other things, ambulance drivers. Vaughan Williams had some experience with the “big guns,” which contributed to his gradual deafness, and Ravel was rejected from the air force for being too short. Ravel wrote RVW after the war and urged him to return to Paris. “I would be happy to see you after so many terrible years,” he confessed.
Pictured are some of Ravel’s letters to his friend. Unfortunately, to my knowledge, Vaughan Williams’ letters to Ravel have not survived.
Remembering Ravel’s influence on one of my favorite composers –happy birthday, Maurice Ravel!
The Jewish festival of Purim begins at sunset. Which means tomorrow morning I will hit the road in search of Central Jersey’s tastiest hamantaschen.
Hamantaschen, in case you don’t know, are triangular, filled-pocket pastries associated with Haman, the villain of the Purim story as related in the Book of Esther – “tash” meaning “pocket” or “pouch” in Yiddish. In Hebrew, they’re sometimes referred to as “Haman’s ears.” And what an appetizing image that is, especially when biting into the fruity center!
The cookie is often filled with apricot, raspberry, poppy seed, or my personal favorite, prune – which may sound a little geriatric, but trust me, with a good cup of coffee, it infuses one with a ridiculous sense of well-being.
The best hamantaschen I ever had were from Rindelaub’s Bakery, then located right across the street from one of my many Philadelphia apartments, on South 18th Street, just a few doors north of Rittenhouse Square. That was decades ago, when I was in my 20s. A prune-centered hamantasch and a large cup of coffee consumed in the square on a sunny afternoon was a recipe for pure bliss. Alas, once a Philadelphia institution, Rindelaub’s is no more.
Or is it? I see, doing a Google search, there’s an article about it that ran in the Philadelphia Inquirer in 2008, but it’s paywalled. If someone subscribes, please let me know to what far-flung suburb the bakery has retreated.
In the name of all that’s holy, avoid hamantaschen from the local grocery store. They’re generally pretty terrible – hard jelly in a tasteless cookie that will turn to powder as soon as you bite into it. But if you can find them at an actual bakery, give them a shot.
In the Trenton-Princeton area, I have had mixed success trying to recapture Rindelaub’s perfection of flavor and ratio of pastry to filling. Again, if someone knows of a great Jewish bakery in the area, let me know.
Ever hear of the whole megillah? Or Magilla Gorilla? In Hebrew, the Megillah is one of five books read on special Jewish feast days. On Purim, it’s Megillat Esther, the reading punctuated with boos and the grinding of groggers at each mention of Haman.
The best-known musical response to Purim is still probably George Frideric Handel’s “Esther,” from 1732. Handel’s first English oratorio recounts the events of the Biblical book, by way of an Old Testament drama by Jean Racine. The Hebrew Esther becomes Queen of Persia and thwarts the machinations of the king’s jealous vizier, which would have resulted in the extermination of her people.
In 1954, Jan Meyerowitz composed his “Symphony: Midrash Esther.” Meyerowitz’s family experienced an analogous threat in Germany in the 1930s, but their solution was the opposite of Esther’s. Rather than reveal their Jewishness, they chose to conceal it, converting to Christianity shortly before Meyerowitz’s birth. So carefully kept was the secret that the composer himself didn’t learn of his true heritage until the age of 18.
Meyerowitz studied in Berlin, then in Rome with Ottorino Respighi and Alfredo Casella. He emigrated to the United States in 1946, where he found employment at Tanglewood, then Brooklyn College and the City College of New York. The symphony was first performed in 1957, by the New York Philharmonic under the direction of Dimitri Mitropoulos.
You can listen to it here, on tracks 5 to 8
As a bonus, track 1 is “Queen Esther’s Prayer” from “Four Biblical Tableaux” by Aaron Avshalomov, from 1928, .
Cristiano Giuseppe Lidarti’s “Ester” is believed to be the first work in oratorio form to be set to a Hebrew libretto (by Rabbi Jacob Saraval). Composed in 1774, it was rediscovered only in 1997!
Finally, here’s Eugen d’Albert’s overture after Franz Grillparzer’s “Esther.” D’Albert was a mighty pianist, who studied with Franz Liszt. He composed no less than 21 operas. He was married six times. He met his match in Teresa Carreño, “The Valkyrie of the Piano,” herself married four times. What a Ragnarok their union must have been!
I only recently came across another piece of music inspired by Esther, somewhere in my CD collection, and it’s making me crazy, because now I can’t remember what it is! It was something from the late 19th or early 20th centuries. I’ll add it here should I remember it.
Remember tomorrow to pour a cup of coffee and taste deeply of Haman’s ear for Purim!
IMAGE: “Esther Denouncing Haman to King Ahasuerus” (1888) by Ernest Norman, with hamantasch added by me
Nearly 150 years after her death, composer Louise Farrenc is finally coming into her own. Farrenc (1804-1875) was the only female professor at the Paris Conservatory during the whole of the 19th century. Of course, she was only allowed to teach women.
This Sunday night on “The Lost Chord,” we’ll hear Farrenc’s remarkable Third Symphony, on a program of music by three neglected French Romantics.
A pupil of Moscheles (teacher of Mendelssohn) and Hummel (who studied with Mozart), Farrenc was a formidable pianist, who also took private lessons with Conservatory professor Anton Reicha. She paused in her career as a performer in order to start a successful publishing house, with her husband, Éditions Farrenc, which flourished for nearly 40 years.
Beginning in 1842, Farrenc was finally accepted it into the Paris Conservatory, as a professor. There, she taught piano, but not composition. However, her stature was such that she was able to demand – and receive – equal pay.
We’ll also hear music by Augusta Holmès (1847- 1903), French composer of Irish ancestry. Holmès received encouragement from Liszt and Wagner, as well as multiple marriage proposals from Saint-Saëns (which she declined). She became a pupil of César Franck. It’s said that Franck’s Piano Quintet enshrines the teacher’s ardent longing for his student. Saint-Saëns, who participated in the work’s scandalous premiere, was not amused.
Holmès will be represented by her symphonic poem “Andromède,” from 1883. Andromeda, you may recall from Greek mythology, is the daughter of Cassiopeia, who incurs the wrath of the gods when she brags of Andromeda’s extraordinary beauty (comparing her favorably to the Nereids). Andromeda is chained to a rock as a sacrifice to a sea serpent, but rescued from her fate by Perseus, who arrives just in the nick of time, astride the winged horse Pegasus and bearing the severed head of the Gorgon Medusa, with which he turns the serpent to stone.
Finally, Marie Gandval (1830-1907) studied with Flotow, then Chopin, and later Saint-Saëns. Saint-Saëns dedicated his Christmas Oratorio to her. She was the most frequently performed composer on concerts of the Société Nationale de Musique. The Société was founded by Saint-Saëns with an aim to promote orchestral music, which he found underserved in opera-mad France, where orchestras were tied to the theatres. Grandval herself was a composer of opera and choral music, but tonight there will be just enough time for her “Deux pièces” for oboe, cello and piano.
Look for the women on “Cherchez la Femme,” this Sunday night at 10:00 EST, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.
