RECITAL 2006 - PROGRAM NOTES
The Czech composer Jindrich Feld was influenced by the great Hungarian composer Bela Bartok, not least in the clarity and symmetry of his forms. The outer movements of Feld’s Sonata for Flute and Piano are effervescent showpieces with calmer interludes, while the searching second movement is relieved by a more flowing middle section. Feld dedicated the Sonata to Jean-Pierre Rampal, whose brilliant career was well established when it was composed in 1957.
The adjective aerial refers to something that is performed in or pertains to air – hence high or lofty. My title alludes, by extension, to the piccolo and the flute that dwell in airy regions, perched on the top two staves of an orchestral score.
Orchestration books long have advised the composer to shun the piccolo’s lowest octave. It is this first octave that I find particularly attractive, at once vulnerable and warmly lyrical – a baby’s voice.
The combination of piccolo and flute has not yet been widely exploited. It is my hope that this brief work will make a worthy contribution to this slim repertoire. The score is inscribed for Fenwick Smith. The work was composed in 2005 with today’s artists in mind (and in ear). Daniel Pinkham
The German composer Sigfrid Karg-Elert, a virtuoso pianist and organist, also found time to practice flute, oboe, and clarinet. Borrowing a title made famous by Clementi, he composed sets of etudes for oboe and for flute entitled "Gradus ad Parnassum," or Steps to Parnassus, the mountaintop abode of the Greek gods. Mastery of each step brings us, presumably, a bit closer to the elusive goal of perfection. Each of these intensely concentrated little pieces (they average about 45 seconds in length) exploits a particular aspect of technique or musicianship.
"The Small Rain" takes its title from this classic love lyric, which is anonymous and probably from the 16th century:
O Western wind, when wilt thou blow / That the small rain down can rain?
Christ, that my love were in my arms / And I in my bed again!
My piece is not programmatic, but the first of its three movements might refer to the wind and the third to the rain, while the second perhaps depicts the longing for home and love expressed by the poem. Each movement begins with the notes F-Eb, the musical spelling of the initials of Fenwick Smith, who commissioned this work, and to whom it is dedicated. Scott Wheeler, July 2006
Jean-Marie Leclair, founder of the French violin school, intended nine of his many violin sonatas to be playable also on the flute. In the preface to the fourth book he encourages the performers toward a pure and simple style, specifying that the improvised ornamentation that so often "disfigures" slow movements be avoided, and denouncing changes of tempo within a movement. From a distance of 250 years it may come as a surprise that Leclair was enough of an innovator that a certain contemporary commentator described his music as "a kind of algebra capable of rebuffing the most courageous musicians."
Johann Sebastian Bach first wrote for the transverse flute in the early 1720’s, and demonstrated almost immediately a comprehensive understanding of its technical and expressive potential. His sonatas are the cornerstone of the flutist’s repertoire, but much of his greatest writing for the instrument can be found in the cantatas, passions, and the B-minor Mass. The arias in these works typically include an instrumental obbligato that illustrates, comments upon, adorns, or engages in dialogue with the sung text. Although the texts themselves may not be of consistent literary merit, Bach’s music raises them to sublime eloquence.
Erschrecke doch, Du allzu sichre Seele! Denk, was dich würdig zähle der Sünden
Joch. Die Gotteslangmut geht auf einem Fuß von Blei, damit der Zorn hernach dir
desto shwerer sei.
Be afraid, over-confident soul! Think how you have earned the sinner’s yoke.
God’s wrath is patient, making His scorn in the hereafter all the greater.
Wo wird in diesem Jammertale vor meinen Geist die Zuflucht sein? Allein zu Jesu
Vaterhänden, will ich mich in der Schwachheit wenden. Sonst weiss ich weder aus
noch ein.
Where in this vale of sorrows might my soul find refuge? Only in the hands of Jesus will I, in my weakness, rest –
otherwise, I am lost.
Jesus nimmt die Sünder an: süßes Wort voll Trost und Leben! Er schenkt die wahre Seelenruh, und rufet jedem
tröstlich zu: «Dein Sünd ist dir vergeben.»
Jesus us the sinner’s friend: sweet word, full of trust and life! He grants the spirit
bliss, and calls in trust to all: "Your sins have been forgiven."
Fenwick Smith
|