With the lingering evidence of Thanksgiving both in our refrigerators and around our waistlines, it’s hardly surprising that our thoughts and memories would be full of home. Perhaps you still are “home,” with family and a full day of travel ahead of you, or you can’t wait to get home (your own).
Whatever the case may be, this Sunday night on “The Lost Chord,” we’ll have music by American composers inspired by the idea of home.
Our featured work will be “Magna Mysteria,” by John Fitz Rogers, from 2010. Rogers weaves together Latin biblical texts and poetic verse of the 6th century philosopher Boethius, to elevate the idea of home – and the seeking of home – to a metaphorical or spiritual realm. If you have a fondness for the choral music of Morten Lauridsen or Stephen Paulus, I think you’ll really enjoy this, though Rogers is very much his own man. The music is tonal, melodic, and quite lovely.
Also on the program will be Aaron Copland’s “Letter from Home,” from 1943-44. The work was commissioned by Paul Whiteman for his Radio Hall of Fame Orchestra, and suggests the emotions of an American soldier, as he experiences a bittersweet reprieve, if only for a few moments, while savoring a letter from his family.
There’s no place like home for the holidays. I hope you’ll join me for “Homebodies,” this Sunday night at 10:00 EST, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.
I apologize if, when writing about Howard Pollock’s Copland biography the other week, I may have come across as a tad immodest, when stating that, because of my lifelong mania for classical music, I was likely to have a more rounded understanding of the material than your average reader. As always, pride comes before the fall, as I’ve since encountered at least one name in the book that was entirely unfamiliar to me.
On the anniversary of the birth of Virgil Thomson, here’s a photo of the composer, left, with his assistant and copyist, Ned Rorem, right. New to me is the figure at center, the composer William Flanagan.
In his day, Thomson was an extraordinarily important figure in American music, both as a composer and as critic at the New York Herald-Tribune. Rorem, who died earlier this month, at the age of 99 (outliving even Thomson, who died at 92), is regarded one of the foremost composers of American art song.
Rorem provided the entry for Flanagan in the “New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians.” In his book, “Music and People,” he described his musical style thusly: “Flanagan yearns… for the more easy communicative style that ripened in America nearly twenty years ago [in the 1940s]…. Flanagan’s musical ‘birth’ is of that time, and in growing he has remained faithful to its premise, if not to the specific mannerisms of the period.”
Flanagan wrote a lot of music for the plays of Edward Albee, who was his longtime companion, as well as an opera with Albee after Melville’s “Bartleby the Scrivener.” At the time of his death, at 46, he was planning an artists’ colony in Montauk. This is now the William Flanagan Memorial Creative Persons Center (commonly referred to as “The Barn”), maintained by the Edward F. Albee Foundation.
Flanagan was unusual among composers of his generation in expressing an unqualified and heartfelt enthusiasm for Copland’s music. He was among Copland’s students at Tanglewood in 1947.
From Pollock’s book:
“[A]ccording to Ned Rorem, Copland was, along with Ravel, “the twentieth-century musician closest to his heart.” “You know well that I have always been hopelessly addicted to your music,” Flanagan once wrote to Copland. “But addicted or not, I couldn’t be convinced that there is a composer living who could move ME, at any rate, as you do with the music of the mother’s closing song [in ‘The Tender Land’].” He also defended “Connotations” against the widely circulated “Total gloom descriptions” surrounding the work. In 1962, he described Copland as “the guy whose work has been the most important single influence on one’s way of thinking about the profession he has chosen to occupy his life.” Over the years, Copland regularly offered Flanagan advice and guidance; after Flanagan took his life in 1969, Copland eulogized him at a memorial concert.”
Later in the book, Pollock writes:
“William Flanagan similarly thought that whatever its strengths and weaknesses, the libretto [for ‘The Tender Land’] “falls into its properly subordinate place and the music moves in – a phenomenon that has occurred with many works in the standard operatic repertory. And this music is almost without question the finest composed for an American opera.”
Flanagan managed to resist the dueling gravitational forces of both Stravinsky’s neoclassicism and Schoenberg’s dodecaphony. In common with Rorem, though less prolific, he was best-received as a song composer. His songs “Horror Movie” and “The Upside-Down Man” have been recorded, but so far I have been unable to locate any sound files. In fact, the only one of Flanagan’s pieces I’ve been able to find on the internet is “A Concert Ode” (1951):
Happy birthday, Virgil Thomson; R.I.P., Ned Rorem; and hello, William Flanagan!
The perfect Thanksgiving music? Virgil Thomson’s “Symphony on a Hymn Tune.”
Another seasonal work: the Concertino for Harp, Strings and Percussion, “Autumn” – according to Thomson, actually more of a “portrait of an artist aging.”
A fairly recent production of Thomson’s Susan B. Anthony opera “The Mother of Us All,” on a libretto by Gertrude Stein
There’s more to Thanksgiving than just turkey and football. This week on “Picture Perfect,” we count our blessings and aspire to do better, with music from movies reflective of what’s best in human nature and most admirable in the American character.
Aaron Copland’s work on “The Cummington Story” (1945), a semi-documentary produced by the Office of War Information, underscores the gradual acceptance of European war refugees into a cautious but fundamentally decent New England community. The music is pure Americana, with some of the material later finding its way into Copland’s Clarinet Concerto and “Down a Country Lane.”
“Field of Dreams” (1989) is one of those rare films that has the ability to reduce manly men – even those without father issues – to a pool of tears. Phil Alden Robinson’s superior adaptation of W.P. Kinsella’s novel, “Shoeless Joe,” is a male wish-fulfillment fantasy, in which a man finds redemption, and a new understanding of his father, in the enchanted cornfields of America’s heartland. And it’s all brought about courtesy of America’s pastime, baseball. The evocative score, much indebted to Copland, is by James Horner.
“The Best Years of Our Lives” (1946) is one of the great American classics. This touching film tells the tale of the three WWII veterans struggling to readjust to civilian life. It isn’t easy, but with the support of family and friends, there’s plenty of hope for the future. Hugo Friedhofer wrote the Academy Award-winning score, earning the film one of its seven Oscars. The orchestrations were by Copland protégé (and composer of “The Big Country”) Jerome Moross.
Finally, Daniel Day-Lewis elevates Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln” (2012) to greatness with one of the uncanniest performances ever captured on film. Day-Lewis’ gentle but shrewd Man of Destiny would go to any lengths to hold the country together. John Williams taps into America’s proud musical heritage, clearly influenced by Copland and Ives to create a score of stirring nobility.
I hope you’ll join me as we give thanks for family, community and country on “Picture Perfect,” music for the movies, this Saturday evening at 6:00 EST, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.
After writing up a little salute to Ned Rorem the other week, on the occasion of his 99th birthday, I happened to read an interview he gave with Bruce Duffie, in which he confessed that it was important to him that his music will be remembered. It made me recollect how, upon hearing of the death of Aaron Copland, I wished I had written him a letter to let him know how much his music meant to me. I easily could have. Copland died in 1990.
Similarly, Rorem’s remark made me think maybe I should send him a note. But I let the moment pass. In truth, his music never occupied the same kind of place in my heart as does Copland’s, but I am certainly grateful for it.
Rorem died yesterday at the age of 99. Here’s a sampler of his music, with links to the Duffie interview and my write-up, in case you missed it.
Leon Fleisher plays “3 Barcarolles” (1949)
With Thanksgiving right around the corner, here’s a piece for string orchestra, called “Pilgrims” (1958). The composer hastens to point out that it has nothing to do with Plymouth Rock. Rather, it was inspired by a novel of Julien Green called “Le voyageur sur la terre.” The title in turn is borrowed from the Book of Hebrews: “These also died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off… and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth…” (Hebrews 11:13). Rorem points out that the music is less programmatic than it is a mood of remembrance.
Typical of many of Rorem’s larger works, his Violin Concerto (1984) eschews a classical three-movement structure in favor of a suite of shorter movements, generally becoming lovelier and more heart-felt the closer you get to the center. In this case, there’s also a programmatic element, in that the movements are supposed to mirror a dusk-to-dawn progression.
Bernstein conducts the world premiere of Rorem’s Symphony No. 3 at Carnegie Hall (1959)
Anyone who’s ever read Rorem’s writings knows he definitely had his saucy side. He confessed he was shocked at having been awarded the Pulitzer Prize (for “Air Music” in 1976), since he figured the establishment would prefer to punish him for being such a naughty boy. “But it sort of gives you a certain authority,” he reflected. “My name is now always preceded by ‘Pulitzer Prize-winning composer.’ So if I die in a whorehouse, at least the obit will say ‘Pulitzer Prize-Winning Composer Ned Rorem Dies in Whorehouse.’”
“Air Music” can be heard at the link, as part of a collection recorded by the Louisville Orchestra. The opening work, “Design for Orchestra” (1953), is certainly attractive.
Rorem was always most highly-regarded for his art songs. He himself thought his song cycle “Evidence of Things Not Seen” (1998) – 36 songs for voice and piano – his finest work. Here are just a few selections.
I’m not sure that this will win any new friends to Copland’s music – the definition on the 49-year-old video tape is pretty poor – but it should still be of interest to anyone familiar with the oft-performed concert suite. Here’s the first 12 minutes of the ballet “Rodeo,” with the original Agnes DeMille choreography. DeMille herself is interviewed at the end of the segment. The ballet’s premiere in 1942 was attended by Rodgers and Hammerstein, who invited DeMille to provide the choreography for “Oklahoma!” Supposedly “Rodeo” was the first ballet to employ tap dance. I have to say, it’s great storytelling. The action fits the music like a leather work glove.
Unfortunately, the excerpt above does not contain the work’s most famous music, so here’s Copland himself to conduct the “Hoe-Down.” I guess it’s beef for dinner.
BONUS: Martha Graham and company perform “Appalachian Spring,” complete, in pristine footage!
