Tag: Serenade

  • Mr. Peabody, Schubert, & Missed Music

    Mr. Peabody, Schubert, & Missed Music

    Anybody else remember when Mr. Peabody and Sherman used the Wayback Machine to visit Franz Schubert?

    A fun conceit, but Jay Ward and company really missed the boat by not actually using any of Schubert’s music. It would have been a lot more fun had Sherman sung “Standchen,” D. 889 (a.k.a. “Serenade”):

    Listen, listen to the lark in the ethereal blue!
    And Phoebus, newly awakened,
    Leading his horses to drink the dew
    That covers the calyces of the flowers;
    The buds of the marigolds are beginning to open
    Up their little golden eyes;
    With everything that is charming there,
    Oh sweet maid, get up!
    Get up! Get up!

    Not the more famous “Serenade,” but all the more appropriate, since Schubert remarks afterward that he’s just been at work on a NEW serenade.

    Schubert’s OTHER “Serenade” (from the song cycle “Schwanengesang,” D.957)

    Softly my songs plead
    through the night to you;
    down into the silent grove,
    beloved, come to me!

    Slender treetops whisper and rustle
    in the moonlight;
    my darling, do not fear
    that the hostile betrayer will overhear us.

    Do you not hear the nightingales call?
    Ah, they are imploring you;
    with their sweet, plaintive songs
    they are imploring for me.

    They understand the heart’s yearning,
    they know the pain of love;
    with their silvery notes
    they touch every tender heart.

    Let your heart, too, be moved,
    beloved, hear me!
    Trembling, I await you!
    Come, make me happy!

    Even “The Smurfs” used the “Unfinished” Symphony.

    At least the segment gave kids an awareness of the composer, if not his decadent milieu.

    Happy birthday, Franz Schubert.

  • Dvořák & Bartók at Marlboro: Serenades & Divertimenti

    Dvořák & Bartók at Marlboro: Serenades & Divertimenti

    This week on “Music from Marlboro,” two Central European composers look back to the 18th century – in a sense. We’ll hear a serenade by Czech master Antonin Dvořák, and then a divertmento by Hungarian master Béla Bartók.

    I say in a sense, because both designations, “serenade” and “divertimento,” have their roots in the 18th century as entertainment music. The classical prototypes, as they were originally intended, avoided weighty arguments, profound introspection, and showy virtuosity of the type one might expect of more substantial forms, like the symphony, the concerto, or the string quartet.

    Dvořák’s unpretentious “Serenade for Winds” was given its first performance in 1878, when the composer was 37 years-old. The serenade is written in the tried-and-true “Slavonic style” that established Dvořák’s fame. Its instrumentation and emphasis on melody recall occasional and ceremonial serenades of the 18th century.

    We’ll hear a recording made in 1957, by Marlboro wind players directed by Louis Moyse.

    In addition to being one of the greatest composers of the 20th century, Bartók was a pioneering ethnomusicologist, who did much to expand and deepen our musical understanding, through his documentary journeys and insights into the cultures of Eastern Europe and North Africa.

    He also happened to be one of the most innovative of musical thinkers, beating an alternative route to modernism through the assimilation of folk music and forging a highly personal idiom that owes little to either Stravinsky or Schoenberg.

    Bartók’s “Divertimento for String Orchestra,” from 1939, is a fascinating chimera. It takes its name from an 18th century form (appropriate for its neo-classical ambitions), shares qualities with the Baroque concerto grosso (with its small group of soloists at times contrasting with the greater body of strings), and yet remains distinctly of its time. Even here, the composer’s love of folk music is evident.

    The “Divertimento” was Bartók’s final composition before fleeing Nazi Europe for the United States. He was 58 years-old. He completed the piece in only fifteen days, while a guest at the Swiss chalet of conductor Paul Sacher, who had commissioned the work. Though it was composed very quickly, as befits a divertimento, Bartók left meticulous instructions for its performance.

    We’ll hear it played at Marlboro in 1974, by a string orchestra conducted by Sándor Végh. Végh actually knew Bartók. He participated in the first Hungarian performance of the composer’s String Quartet No. 5.

    I hope you’ll join me for a diverting hour, on the next “Music from Marlboro.” If you’re Hungary for worthwhile music, Czech it out, this Wednesday evening at 6:00 EST, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.

    Marlboro School of Music and Festival: Official Page


    PHOTOS: Dvořák and Bartók go al fresco

  • Dvořák & Bartók at Marlboro: Serenades Reimagined

    Dvořák & Bartók at Marlboro: Serenades Reimagined

    This week on “Music from Marlboro,” two Central European composers look back to the 18th century – in a sense. We’ll hear a serenade by Czech master Antonin Dvořák, and then a divertmento by Hungarian master Béla Bartók.

    I say in a sense, because both designations, “serenade” and “divertimento,” have their roots in the 18th century as entertainment music. The classical prototypes, as they were originally intended, avoided weighty arguments, profound introspection, and showy virtuosity of the type one might expect of more substantial forms, like the symphony, the concerto, or the string quartet.

    Dvořák’s unpretentious “Serenade for Winds” was given its first performance in 1878, when the composer was 37 years-old. The serenade is written in the tried-and-true “Slavonic style” that established Dvořák’s fame. Its instrumentation and emphasis on melody recall occasional and ceremonial serenades of the 18th century.

    We’ll hear a recording made in 1957, by Marlboro wind players directed by Marcel Moyse. Moyse co-founded the Marlboro Music Festival in 1951.

    In addition to being one of the greatest composers of the 20th century, Bartók was a pioneering ethnomusicologist, who did much to expand and deepen our musical understanding, through his documentary journeys and insights into the cultures of Eastern Europe and North Africa.

    He also happened to be one of the most innovative of musical thinkers, beating an alternative route to modernism through the assimilation of folk music and forging a highly personal idiom that owes little to either Stravinsky or Schoenberg.

    Bartók’s “Divertimento for String Orchestra,” from 1939, is a fascinating chimera. It takes its name from an 18th century form (appropriate for its neo-classical ambitions), shares qualities with the Baroque concerto grosso (with its small group of soloists at times contrasting with the greater body of strings), and yet remains distinctly of its time. Even here, the composer’s love of folk music is evident.

    The “Divertimento” was Bartók’s final composition before fleeing Nazi Europe for the United States. He was 58 years-old. He completed the piece in only fifteen days, while a guest at the Swiss chalet of conductor Paul Sacher, who had commissioned the work. Though it was composed very quickly, as befits a divertimento, Bartók left meticulous instructions for its performance.

    We’ll hear it played at Marlboro in 1974, by a string orchestra conducted by Sándor Végh. Végh actually knew Bartók. He participated in the first Hungarian performance of the composer’s String Quartet No. 5.

    I hope you’ll join me for a diverting hour, on the next “Music from Marlboro.” If you’re Hungary for worthwhile music, Czech it out, this Wednesday evening at 6:00 EST, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.

    Marlboro School of Music and Festival: Official Page


    PHOTOS: Dvořák and Bartók go al fresco

  • Dvořák & Bartók at Marlboro: Serenades & Divertimento

    Dvořák & Bartók at Marlboro: Serenades & Divertimento

    This week on “Music from Marlboro,” two Central European composers look back to the 18th century – in a sense. We’ll hear a serenade by Czech master Antonin Dvořák, and then a divertmento by Hungarian master Béla Bartók.

    I say in a sense, because both designations, “serenade” and “divertimento,” have their roots in the 18th century as entertainment music. The classical prototypes, as they were originally intended, avoided weighty arguments, profound introspection, and showy virtuosity of the type one might expect of more substantial forms, like the symphony, the concerto, or the string quartet.

    Dvořák’s unpretentious “Serenade for Winds” was given its first performance in 1878, when the composer was 37 years-old. The serenade is written in the tried-and-true “Slavonic style” that established Dvořák’s fame. Its instrumentation and emphasis on melody recall occasional and ceremonial serenades of the 18th century.

    We’ll hear a recording made in 1957, by Marlboro wind players directed by Louis Moyse.

    In addition to being one of the greatest composers of the 20th century, Bartók was a pioneering ethnomusicologist, who did much to expand and deepen our musical understanding, through his documentary journeys and insights into the cultures of Eastern Europe and North Africa.

    He also happened to be one of the most innovative of musical thinkers, beating an alternative route to modernism through the assimilation of folk music and forging a highly personal idiom that owes little to either Stravinsky or Schoenberg.

    Bartók’s “Divertimento for String Orchestra,” from 1939, is a fascinating chimera. It takes its name from an 18th century form (appropriate for its neo-classical ambitions), shares qualities with the Baroque concerto grosso (with its small group of soloists at times contrasting with the greater body of strings), and yet remains distinctly of its time. Even here, the composer’s love of folk music is evident.

    The “Divertimento” was Bartók’s final composition before fleeing Nazi Europe for the United States. He was 58 years-old. He completed the piece in only fifteen days, while a guest at the Swiss chalet of conductor Paul Sacher, who had commissioned the work. Though it was composed very quickly, as befits a divertimento, Bartók left meticulous instructions for its performance.

    We’ll hear it played at Marlboro in 1974, by a string orchestra conducted by Sándor Végh. Végh actually knew Bartók. He participated in the first Hungarian performance of the composer’s String Quartet No. 5.

    I hope you’ll join me for a diverting hour, on the next “Music from Marlboro.” If you’re Hungary for worthwhile music, Czech it out, this Wednesday evening at 6:00 EST, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.

    Marlboro School of Music and Festival: Official Page


    PHOTOS: Dvořák and Bartók go al fresco

  • Schoenberg’s Serenade: Tradition & Tone

    Schoenberg’s Serenade: Tradition & Tone

    Don’t call him revolutionary. He didn’t care for that. Arnold Schoenberg did not see himself as a troublemaker. Rather, if you could bring yourself to ask him, he might have described himself as a traditionalist who was merely extending the legacy of an inherited past. Then he might have painted your portrait or challenged you to a game of tennis.

    On this week’s “Music from Marlboro,” we’ll hear Schoenberg’s Janus-like Serenade, Op. 24. Sure, the Serenade contains the first published example of Schoenberg’s twelve-tone method to employ multiple instruments (and human voice): a setting of Petrarch’s Sonnet No. 217, according to the composer, always so concerned with precision. In actuality, it’s the Sonnet No. 256, if we’re to go by the standard Italian edition of the poet’s works, but who’s counting?

    The other five movements push tonality beyond the breaking point, true, but they are not “twelve-tone.” If you find yourself hanging on by your fingernails at the seeming lack of identifiable landmarks, it might be better for you to just let go and allow all the colors to wash over you. Schoenberg employs, in addition to a vocal basso in the three-minute Petrarch setting, B-flat and bass clarinets, mandolin, guitar, violin, viola, and cello.

    The composer looks back to classical form through the use of repetitions in the opening “March,” the second movement “Minuet,” and the fifth movement “Dance Scene.” There is also a seeming affirmation of the past through the deliberate choice of Petrarch as a source of inspiration for the fourth movement “Sonnet.” The third movement is a set of “Variations,” and the sixth a “Song (without Words).” A “Finale” caps the piece,” which, by Schoenberg standards, is fairly light and easygoing.

    We’ll hear a performance from the 1966 Marlboro Music Festival, with Leon Kirchner directing the ensemble. Coincidentally, today is Kirchner’s birthday.

    To round off the hour, we’ll also have a delightful work by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – his Sonata in B-flat for Bassoon and Cello, K. 292. The 1975 performance will feature bassoonist Alexander Heller and a 19 year-old cellist named Yo Yo Ma.

    Ma plays Mozart, and we take a shine to Schoenberg, on the next “Music from Marlboro,” this Wednesday evening at 6:00, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.

    Marlboro School of Music and Festival: Official Page


    Arnold Schoenberg: music’s menace loved his tennis

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