Showing posts with label chamber. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chamber. Show all posts

Monday, August 10, 2020

Bozza - Suite Breve en Trio

Today, I'm just going to share the Suite Breve en Trio, a piece for oboe, clarinet, and bassoon. French composer Eugène Bozza remains one of the most prolific composers of wind chamber music, and I hope to explore his Aria (for clarinet [or alto saxophone] and piano).

Here's a brief description of each of the movements of the Suite Breve en Trio:

I. Allegro moderato - A beautiful lyrical opening centering around a pentatonic theme, though rapidly changing tonality and chromaticism transforms the simple opening motif into a seed for many ideas. The expressive playing, right from the start, got me interested in the suite.
II. Allegro vivo - A whimsical scherzo with a lilting rhythm that gives the movement a lopsided feeling. Chromaticism, grace notes, and sharp articulations characterize this movement. I really like the performers' cohesive phrasing in this movement.
III. Adagio espressivo - A lovely slow movement that feels somewhat like a modern 'sarabande.' The contrast between wide intervals in some melodic figures and the scalar features of some others, and the frequent rhythmic interlacing of musical lines, make this movement's melodies particularly (and its suspended ending) appealing.
IV. Final - Allegro vivo - With its syncopated figures and bright mood, the finale is a buoyant dance (perhaps a 'rigaudon'). Frequent parallel chord motion and crisply articulated melodies, along with unexpected harmonic and rhythmic turns, make a vibrant conclusion to the suite.

Hope you enjoy this piece! Leave your thoughts below!

Monday, August 3, 2020

Adams - Shaker Loops

I first listened to American composer John Adams's Shaker Loops while cleaning up my room in July. I was immediately struck by the beauty of the minimalism that Adams writes with, while also being so compelled by the energy of the first movement to listen to the rest. I don't seek out strings-only music (as I am more interested in Romantic era music for full orchestra), but this is truly captivating music.

The work was originally written for string septet and had an unspecified number of repeats for each of the "modules," giving this music somewhat of a chance (as in "chance music") or aleatoric component to it. It was later recast for string orchestra and the number of repeats specified, though Adams himself has expressed that he prefers the original version for string septet.


Rather than plagiarizing an entire history of the work, I'll link to Earbox where the composer has written his own program notes and provided context for the inception and development of the work. Since the composer has said he prefers the modular version, I've linked to a recording of that version below. The movements are performed without pauses, so there is a little bit of spillover.


Shaker Loops

I. Shaking and Trembling
II. Hymning Slews
III. Loops and Verses
IV. A Final Shaking

One thing that always strikes me about minimalism is how so much music can come from very limited musical ideas (melody, harmony, texture, etc., or any combination of the above can be stripped from the music). You could realistically argue that not a single movement of Shaker Loops has a recognizable or distinguishable melody, and yet overarching musical gestures create a sense of musical direction that is really difficult to achieve if the music is dragging on a single melody.


I'm also amazed at the variety of textures that Adams conjures up from just a string septet. From listening to Finzi's Clarinet Concerto, Op.31, I realized the power and the range of expression that a string orchestra can have. However, Adams' use of artificial harmonics, tremolo (both repeating and alternating), and other textures adds a whole new dimension to the textural capacity of both a chamber group of strings and to a string orchestra.

My personal favorite is the first movement, but the fourth movement is a very close second, especially with the modular version I linked above. The long rhythmic compression by accelerando that takes place from 23:22 to 24:07 in the third movement is hair-raising (especially when the rhythmic subdivision in the low strings drops out suddenly). One particular note I have in the fourth movement is the ridiculous harmonic shift from B major to C major at 30:36 (start at 30:30), which gives me chills, too.

Let me know what you think of these pieces in the comments below and share this post if you enjoyed it!

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Brahms - Violin Sonata No.2, Op.100, II. Andante tranquillo - Vivace

Brahms's chamber music is among the most iconic of the Romantic era, following almost entirely sonata form (sometimes opting for the theme-and-variations form that Brahms was so fond of) through most of the three violin sonatas, two cello sonatas, two clarinet sonatas, three string quartets, two string quintets, two string sextets, three piano trios, three piano quartets, a piano quintet, a clarinet trio, and a clarinet quintet!

However, Brahms would occasionally stray from sonata form. One example is the second movement of the Violin Sonata No.2, Op.100, II. Andante tranquillo - Vivace (7:59-14:16), following instead something of a binary form, in which the piece alternates between two different sections. The "A" section is marked as Andante tranquillo, featuring a sensual violin melody in 2/4 over a lyrical piano accompaniment.

Opening of "A" section in F major (mm. 1-4)*

Violinist Anne Sophie-Mutter renders the melody beautifully with her deeply emotional playing. Some listeners complain that her vibrato is too frantic or exaggerated in the first and third movements, but I really like her performance of the second movement regardless. 
The "B" section of the form, marked Vivace, returns two-and-a-half times (the "half" a time refers to the coda of the movement, which unexpectedly switches to Vivace), buoyant and fast-paced in 3/4 time. I personally love the energy; some performances turn it into a lilting waltz, but Sophie-Mutter really puts some gusto into it. Both Sophie-Mutter and pianist Lambert Orkis play the "B" section with a richness and a crispness at the same time, an extremely satisfying combination.

Opening of "B" section in D minor (mm. 16-21)*

The reprise of the "A" section is cast at first in D major, modulating into the home key of F major starting with a surprising B♭M7 (♭VI42 in D) chord:

Chord names: A—B♭M7—A—Gm/B♭—F/C—C7—F
Harmonic analysis: [in D:] V—♭VI42—V—iv6 [in F: ii6]—I64—V7—I

Reprise of the "A" section (mm. 72-79); modulation from D major to F major*

The reprise of the "B" section begins with pizzicato violin and syncopated piano part exchanging notes of the melody; Sophie-Mutter's aggressive chordal pizzicato is really well-placed here. The harmonic and melodic content of both iterations of the "B" section is the same; rhythmic and timbral ("color") changes account for essentially all of the musical differences. In the final measures of each "B" section (where the piano takes on a descending triplets figuration), the violin and piano swap some chordal tones, but the chords remain identical. See below comparisons for the first two systems of each "B" section iteration from the score:

Harmonic comparison of "B" sections (mm. 16-27; mm. 94-105)*

Harmonic comparison of "B" sections (mm. 28-39; mm. 106-117)*

To finish off the movement, Brahms brings back a short second reprise of the "A" section, once again reentering in D major (to resolve the A major chord which ends the "B" section reprise) and modulating into F major, this time by way of a tertiary dominant (D7) followed by a series of resolutions (D7—G7—C7) to F major. Although logical and harmonically satisfying, dominant (7th or █7) chords in series is an unusual move by conservative Romantic standards.

Short second reprise of "A" section (mm. 150-154)*

To close out the movement, Brahms gives the listener almost no time to readjust to the "B" section meter and tempo before flying through the coda!

Coda in "B" section style (mm. 162-168)*

Hope you enjoyed this section-by-section overview of the piece! Leave a comment with your feedback and please share this post!

*All score excerpts taken from the C. F. Peters edition via IMSLP.org.

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Mozart - Piano Quartet No.1, KV 478, III. Rondeau

I thought about this piece today as a celebration of the end of my junior year at the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities; this piece brings me back to a particular memory from sixth grade.

When not using computers in elementary and junior high school for homework and projects, the computer that I used to do assignments at home (mostly PowerPoint presentations, essays or stories in Word, and frequently things to print, cut, and paste for posters) was a silver and white laptop that we kept charging in the living room. I remember, among other things, playing the World's Hardest Game and watching YouTube videos on that thing. Good times.

Towards the end of the sixth grade, I got my first personal email account (I wanted to keep in touch with teachers from my elementary school). At around that time, I remember hopping on YouTube on that laptop and saw, by coincidence, a suggested video of some music by Mozart. I had never sought out classical music before this, but I recognized the name 'Mozart' and clicked. For my very first active exposure to classical music, this was a blast. It was the Rondeau of Mozart's first piano quartet in G major.

As I had just gotten a new email address, I emailed my junior high's orchestra director (also plays piano) about the music I had just listened to, and she said she had played the same piece before and could photocopy the music for me. I was overjoyed! On the last day of school, with my first ever yearbook in hand, I went down to the band and orchestra rehearsal room, and the director signed my yearbook and gave me a thick stack of sheet music. After going through some of the highlights of the music with the orchestra director, I skipped up the stairs to the library.

For the end of the last day (half-day) of school, the teachers decided to have a movie playing for all the sixth and seventh graders (the eighth graders graduated earlier and were no longer around); I remember ignoring the movie playing on the projector screen and just looking at the sheet music (I couldn't tell you what movie it was ... I have no idea). I didn't know if I'd get to play it, since I had only started playing piano two years before, but I was so excited to have the music right in front of me. (Over the next couple years, I discovered the IMSLP website and went absolutely nuts there, after exhausting tons of photocopies from books of solo piano works from my local library.)

I share all of this because I think of this story every time I get to a last day of school. Through nearly every year of primary and secondary school, the last day of school was really bittersweet for me. But, the excitement I had in sixth grade about this new type of music I was just learning about -- classical music -- overpowered whatever bittersweetness I must have been feeling at the time. It's a really positive memory that I enjoy thinking back on. So, today, I'm sharing the video I watched then here.

Mozart - Piano Quartet No.1, KV 478, III. Rondeau (video by Stephen Malinowski)

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy it now or enjoyed it then!

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Messiaen - Quatuor pour la fin du temps

I had added Olivier Messiaen's Quatuor pour la fin du temps ("Quartet for the end of time") to my Watch Later list on YouTube a couple years ago, but I didn't think of actually listening to it until today. While sitting at the riverbank this evening to get some fresh air, the surface of the river churning at the force of the blasting wind, it suddenly felt like time had stopped. This piece came to mind, and I pulled it up back at my apartment. I was immediately struck by the variety of textures, movement tempi, shifting harmonies, and compositional devices. Messiaen doesn't use any fringe techniques or anything of the sort like in Pithoprakta; the conviction of his musical style is far more than enough to stretch the listener's ear. I especially was shocked by the sixth movement, VI. Danse de la fureur, pour les sept trompettes ("Dance of fury, for the seven trumpets") (25:25-31:29). The lopsided time signatures, unpredictable groupings, fiery unisons, and daring harmony all make for a wild ride.