Variaciones concertantes, Op. 23
Alberto Ginastera
b. Buenos Aires, Argentina / April 11, 1916
d. Geneva, Switzerland / June 25, 1983
Ginastera is the finest composer that Argentina has produced. His early works show a strong influence of Argentinean folk music. Later creations display a dynamic, and exceptionally colorful, cosmopolitan style that won him a strong global reputation.
Variaciones concertantes (Concertante Variations) dates from 1953. Commissioned by the Asociación Amigos de la Música, it was premiered in Buenos Aires by that organization’s orchestra on June 2 with Igor Markevitch conducting. This attractive and expertly crafted score marked the transition between Ginastera’s nationalist and more outward-looking periods. “The work has a subjective Argentinean character,” he wrote. “Instead of employing folklore material, an Argentinean atmosphere is obtained by the use of original melodies and rhythms.”
The variations range in length from mere seconds to several minutes. Each one spotlights one or more solo instruments, displaying in insightful, often virtuoso style their personalities and capabilities. The result is an appealing, witty concerto for orchestra. Cello and harp present the slow, expressive Theme. A somber Interlude for strings follows, then the formal variations unfold as follows: Humorous Variation, for flute; Variation in the Style of a Scherzo, for clarinet; Dramatic Variation, for viola; Canonic Variation, for oboe and bassoon; Rhythmic Variation, for trumpet and trombone; Variation in the Style of a Moto perpetuo, for violin; Pastoral Variation, for horn; Interlude for winds; Reprise of the Theme, this time with double bass partnering the harp. The Final Variation is an exuberant rondo for full orchestra with a distinctly Latin American flavor.
Trumpet Concerto
Henri Tomasi
b. Marseilles, France / August 17, 1901
d. Paris, France / January 13, 1971
A French musician of Corsican descent, Tomasi divided his career between composing and conducting. He concentrated his creative work in music for the theatre and for the orchestra, while his recreational activities took him to the podiums of concert halls and opera houses throughout the world. His music is colorful, highly rhythmic, and direct in feeling. At times it displays the influence of such non-classical musical forms as jazz and the folk music of various international cultures. The latter flavor grew out of his position as chief conductor of the French National Radio’s colonial network during the 1930s.
Tomasi made a specialty of composing concertos, a practice that earned him enormous gratitude from soloists worldwide. His interest extended far beyond the most familiar solo instruments, too. His 16 concertos featured not only the expected piano and violin, but also flute, saxophone, viola, horn, clarinet, trombone, bassoon, oboe, cello, harp, double bass, and two guitars.
His most-performed concerto is the one for trumpet. He composed it in 1948 and dedicated it to soloist Ludovic Vaillant. These two artists gave the premiere in Paris on April 7, 1949. Throughout the concerto, Tomasi calls for the soloist to use a range of mutes, thus extending the trumpet’s range of colors and expressions. The first (and lengthiest) movement effectively combines cheeky energy and sweet, soaring lyricism. It concludes with a substantial solo cadenza, accompanied in strikingly imaginative fashion by a snare drum. Tomasi underpinned the atmospheric second movement, Nocturne, with delicate, impressionistic orchestration. The concerto concludes with a fast, witty, and virtuosic movement evoking a popular festival.
Symphony No. 3 in A Minor, Op. 44
Sergei Rachmaninoff
b. Oneg, Russia / March 20, 1873
d. Beverly Hills, Calif. / March 28, 1943
Fleeing the Bolshevik revolution of 1917, Rachmaninoff led a nomadic existence for the remainder of his life. At various times he resided in France, the United States, and Switzerland, constantly touring to give the piano recitals that were his primary source of income. The music he composed during that period displayed a moderate advance in style, with its increased rhythmic intricacy, tauter, leaner orchestration, and melodies related less closely to Russian folk and church music.
Heartened by the great success of the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini (1934), he set to work on the Third Symphony in the summer of 1935, and finished it on June 30, 1936. Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra gave the premiere on November 6. It drew a disappointing response from audiences and press alike. Some found it too much of an advance on his earlier works; others, not enough. Concert performances remain rare, though like other previously neglected Rachmaninoff compositions, the reputation of this elegant, ingenious, and often surprising work has grown significantly over the last 30 years.
The entire work is bound together by a theme that recurs in various guises and transformations in each movement. This chant-like motto appears quietly at the very opening, scored for the unusual, arresting combination of solo clarinet, solo cello, and solo, muted horn. This presentation gives it the character of a fleeting thought or reminiscence, summoned from the depths of memory. Before long it bursts forth in loud, stern animation.
The first main theme of the movement is a questioning idea scored for oboes and bassoons. The cellos introduce the second subject; a meltingly nostalgic melody that extends Rachmaninoff’s run of gorgeous, ultra-romantic themes. It may give voice to the homesickness for Russia that never left him; It might have been expected to fade away wistfully. Instead it gathers momentum and expands into an exultant, full-throated climax.
In the main body of the movement, Rachmaninoff focuses solely on developing the first theme. He achieves this with impressive variety. In emotional terms, the treatment displays great bitterness and borders on violence, climaxing in a march-like episode bedecked with percussion. The main themes return, their wistful longing intensified, before the movement comes to rest, in delicately scored exhaustion. Trumpet, bass trombone, and pizzicato strings quietly intone the motto.
The slow movement once again opens and closes with the motto. It appears initially in the horns, filigreed with harp accompaniment, to introduce the romantic reverie of the outer panels. Solos for violin and flute pass languidly by. Stirrings of restlessness insinuate themselves, at last welling up to introduce the brisk, quasi-satiric, and flashingly scored central panel. It could easily be taken as illustrating some kind of festive or processional scene, and does so with great imagination and verve. An abbreviated, less opulent version of the opening panel closes the movement, pizzicato motto and all.
Optimism radiates from the bright, energetic opening of the finale. Shadows begin to spring up soon afterwards in this episodic movement, however, through the menacing return of the motto. Rachmaninoff uses the first melody as the theme for an athletic fugue. The somber Dies irae (Day of Wrath) theme makes an appearance. Rachmaninoff quoted this melody, which originated in the medieval plainchant Mass for the Dead, in many works, including the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini and Symphonic Dances. The finale’s opening theme returns in its original, vivacious form. After a substantial passage characterized by meditation, the movement gradually banishes the shadows that have dogged it and, regaining the fervor with which it began, powers forward to a resounding conclusion.
© 2010 Don Anderson. All rights reserved.
