Overture Magazine - 2018-19 Season FINAL_BSO_Overture_May_June | Page 14

TCHAIKOVSKY VIOLIN CONCERTO for very large orchestra in the repertoire is beyond dispute. (“Very large” is an understatement here: with eight horns, five trumpets, two harps, expanded percussion and swollen sections of strings and woodwinds; this is a huge orchestra even by Strauss’ generous standards.) Strauss himself was evasive on the subject. At one point he did write to his friend, the writer Romain Rolland: “I do not see why I should not compose a work about myself. I find myself quite as interesting as Napoleon or Alexander.” But he also told his father that he wanted to express “a more general and free ideal of great and manly heroism”—a late-Romantic response to Beethoven’s “Eroica” Symphony, with which this tone poem shares the key of E-flat major. As to its spectacular central battle scene, he admitted, “I haven’t taken part in any battles.” Nor did he strike his friends as a heroic personality, no matter how bold and extravagant his musical creations. Bland and mild-tempered, Strauss was easily manipulated by his strong-willed wife Pauline throughout their 55-year marriage. In fact, it is the capricious Pauline who is faithfully portrayed in Ein Heldenleben in the guise of a highly virtuosic solo violin. “She is very complex, very feminine, a little perverse, a little coquettish,… at every minute different from how she was before,” Strauss explained to Rolland. Frau Strauss’ somewhat maddening—but to her husband always alluring—personality can be deduced from the instructions the composer gives to the soloist: “angry,” “loving,” “flippant,” “a little sentimental,” “nagging,” “exuberantly playful.” However, Ein Heldenleben is a more abstract drama and less explicitly descriptive than several of his earlier tone poems. “There is no need for a program,” said Strauss to Rolland. “It is enough to know that a hero is battling his enemies.” This tone poem is in six sections that flow together continuously. The eight horns—they are the hero’s signature instruments—proclaim “The Hero’s” principal theme: a great striding melody surging upward through a three-octave range. This theme paints an exuberant picture of a young (Strauss himself was 12 OV E R T U R E / BSOmusic.org only 34), optimistic hero; companion themes suggest his playful nature while a pulsing ostinato rhythm demonstrates his unstoppable resolve. “The Hero’s Adversaries” respond in the acid tones of woodwinds and the fat, complacent drone of tuba. Strauss didn’t deny that they represented the carping music critics of the day, and he doesn’t paint a pretty picture of them. Strangely, as Strauss biographer Michael Kennedy points out, Strauss didn’t receive nearly as much negative press as most of his contemporaries. But most artists are thin-skinned, and the hero’s theme grows dark and depressed, sliding into the minor mode. Now we meet “The Hero’s Companion,” in an extended concerto-like violin solo. In dark brass tones, we hear the hero’s somewhat grudging response to her blandishments, but this soon turns to ardor in one of Strauss’ most sensuous and lushly scored love scenes. A tender upward- climbing melody in the violin expresses the couple’s devotion. “The Hero’s Deeds of War”: The nattering critics and then a chorus of offstage trumpets summon the hero from his marital bed. With his signature rising theme, supported by his wife’s downward- sliding melody, he strides off to do battle with his enemies. So violent are its sounds, so tonally unhinged its harmonies that for a time this was considered the most daring passage of orchestral modernism. But Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring soon trumped it. The adversaries vanquished, and we hear a reprise of the hero’s opening music, solidly back in E-flat, as he leaves the field in triumph. “The Hero’s Works of Peace”: At the climax of this music, horns hurl out a famous heroic theme from Strauss’ first great success, Don Juan. “The only way I could express works of peace was through quoting works of my own,” Strauss wrote years later. Here he contrapuntally weaves together a series of themes from earlier works: Zarathustra, Till Eulenspiegel, Don Quixote, Death and Transfiguration and even his first, failed opera, Guntram. “The Hero’s Retirement”: In this sublime closing coda, the hero roughly dismisses his critics and withdraws to a peaceful, pastoral retirement. The English horn, yodeling a variant of his theme, prophecies the rural retreat Strauss would build years later at Garmisch-Partenkirchen in the Bavarian Alps. The music now enters a state of serenity and tonal stability, led by the hero’s solo horn and his companion’s violin. The last measures, with the violin rising to its highest E-flat while the horn descends to a deeper one, is one of Strauss’ most beautiful conclusions. Instrumentation: Three flutes, piccolo, four oboes including English horn, two clarinets, bass clarinet, E-flat clarinet, three bassoons, contrabassoon, eight horns, five trumpets, three trombones, two tubas, timpani, percussion, two harps and strings. VIOLIN CONCERTO IN D MAJOR Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Born in Votkinsk, Russia, May 7, 1840; died in St. Petersburg, Russia, November 6, 1893 Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto belongs to that illustrious group of masterpieces that were savaged by uncomprehending critics at their premieres. Nearly all the critics at its first performance —in Vienna on December 4, 1881 with Russian violinist Adolf Brodsky as soloist backed by the Vienna Philharmonic— gave the work negative reviews, but the one penned by the notoriously conservative Eduard Hanslick was so vicious it stung Tchaikovsky for years after. “Tchaikovsky is surely no ordinary talent, but rather, an inflated one…lacking discrimination and taste.… The same can be said for his new, long and ambitious Violin Concerto.…The violin is no longer played; it is tugged about, torn, beaten black and blue.” Because of its flamboyant language and mind-boggling wrong-headedness, this is the review that has come down to us from a city that was generally unsympathetic to Tchaikovsky’s Russian intensity. A much fairer judgment came from the Wiener Abendpost: “The first movement with its splendid, healthy themes, the mysterious, quiet middle movement…and the wild peasant dance make up a whole for which