New Orleans-born Louis Moreau Gottschalk was an American composer and virtuoso pianist. Born to a Creole mother and Jewish father, he was a child prodigy on the piano, leaving Louisiana as a teenager to study music in Paris. He spent much of his career touring South America and the Caribbean and was dubbed the “Chopin of the Creoles.”
As a composer, he was renowned for his eclectic blend of classical, Creole, Caribbean, and Latin American influences. His Symphony No. 1, titled “A Night in the Tropics” (“Nuit des Tropiques”), premiered in Havana in 1860. It is one of the earliest examples of an orchestral work by an American composer that integrates elements of Afro-Caribbean music and rhythm.
The piece may have been played at one of Gottschalk’s famous “monster concerts” that employed hundreds of musicians (sometimes as many as 600!) performing newly composed works. One version of the Night in the Tropics was scored for 150 musicians, including an orchestra, a band and extra percussionists. There is also a two piano rendition another version for a smaller orchestra.
The symphony is in two movements, of which we are performing the second movement, titled “Festa Criolla.” Based on the samba, it features syncopated and lively Afro-Cuban rhythms.
In 1924, a gifted 19-year-old student at Petrograd Conservatory began his senior composition project. Soon after completion, with enthusiastic faculty recommendations, including that of the director and composer Alexander Glazunov, the First Symphony was performed by the Leningrad Philharmonic, the Berlin Philharmonic under Bruno Walter, and the Philadelphia Orchestra under Leopoldo Stokowski. Dmitri Shostakovich had become an immediate international sensation.
But the path to success was fraught with upheaval. At ten years old, his middle-class life was upended by the communist revolution, which ended 400 years of the Romanov dynasty.
Shostakovich and his family endured famine and fuel shortages. After his father died, he helped bring in extra money by improvising on piano at silent movie theaters. (Despite his ambivalence about the medium, he became a fan of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton.) This job developed Shostakovich’s fluency in translating drama and story into musical language, so it is unsurprising that the piano, typically not found in the orchestra, is one of the most prominent instruments. The piano provides expressive melodic sweeps and aggressive punctuation — sometimes commenting on the action (like a film) and at other times being the main focus.
Shostakovich’s distinct and original musical voice is already present in Symphony No. 1. While less known than many of his later works, it’s a thrilling piece full of sardonic edginess, pained introspection and dramatic outbursts, and closing with a blaring finale. Shostakovich’s works should always be a little rough around the edges — especially the musical outpourings of an unstable teenager whose world was uncontrollably changing. We hope you are captivated by his power, seduced by his wit, and enchanted by his many musical surprises.
The “Italian” Symphony is one of Mendelssohn’s most popular orchestral works. He began composing it while touring Italy in 1831, when he was 22 years old. He wrote to friends and relatives about enjoying the climate and art but disdaining the concert music. Musicologists have offered many interpretations of the symphony, linking the musical ideas to specific Italian cities and scenes. This is arguably his happiest symphony, and Mendelssohn once described the Symphony as “blue sky in A major,” referring to Italy’s famous azure skies.
The symphony opens with a burst of sound and energy with repeated notes in the winds and soaring melodies in the strings. Mendelssohn expertly winds melody after melody, never letting the intensity and drive wane. The second movement is reverent and dusky, with melodies in the oboes, bassoons, and violas. Throughout the movement, the lower strings walk a bass line, adding to the processional feeling. A major-key melody in the clarinet breaks through the fog and brings a moment of sunshine but surrenders to the original theme. The third movement, a classic minuet and trio, weaves the strings in a lush tapestry. A militaristic, yet bucolic, fanfare motif in the brass and bassoons provides contrast. The final movement, frenetic and energetic, is explicitly titled “Saltarello,” although it is also evocative of another folk dance, the tarantella. At every moment, it feels like the music will spin out of control! This is one of the few symphonies that begins in a major key and ends in a minor key. It is Mendelssohn at his best – sparkling, singing, and splendid.
Here’s a performance by Gustavo Gimeno and the Concertgebouworkest.
This monumental work was composed by Berlioz in 1830, just a few years after Beethoven’s death. At that time, Berlioz was an unknown 26-year composer who had fallen madly in love with an Anglo-Irish actress, Harriet Smithson, whom he had seen in the Parisian theater performing Shakespeare. He tried, but failed, to win her attention.
In despair, he poured out his soul in this symphony – a semi-autobiographical tour-de-force – which was revolutionary in its musical impact. Written in five movements, this “fantastic symphony” describes the dreams and imaginings of a love-sick young artist who, despairing of attaining the object of his love, has poisoned himself with opium. He sees visions in the form of musical imagery. His beloved is represented by an “ideé fixe” – a graceful melody which appears in every movement. The ideé fixe binds all of the movements together, although it appears in different guises in each.
A brief description of the movements follows, based on Berlioz’ own programmatic notes:
I. Dreams and Passions: The young artist reflects on his melancholy, despair and anguish; his joyous elation when he sees his beloved, and the volcanic love she inspires. After a somber opening tinged with melancholy, violins and flutes open the passionate allegro section and introduce the ideé fixe. Delirious anguish and furious jealousy intrude, giving way to re-awakening love and, at the end, religious consolation.
II. A Ball: He finds his beloved amid the tumult of a festive ball; the ideé fixe is glimpsed amid the gaiety.
III. Scene in the Country: He imagines himself in the country on a summer evening, hearing shepherds’ pipes play the “Ranz des Vaches” to call in their flocks. The pastoral scene gives him a feeling of calm contentment. Suddenly, thoughts of his beloved intrude; his heart lurches, and he has grim forebodings should she betray him. A solitary shepherd plays his tune again without answer, giving way to distant rolling thunder and silence.
IV. March to the Scaffold: He dreams that he has killed his beloved, has been condemned to death and is being led to the scaffold through a jeering mob. A solemn march interrupted by wild passages accompanies him. At the scaffold, he hears the ideé fixe for an instant – which is interrupted by the death blow.
V. Witches’ Sabbath: He dreams he is at an eerie gathering of horrible spirits, sorcerers and monsters who have come to attend his funeral. There are strange cries, groans, shouts and laughter. His beloved has been transformed into one of the revelers; a raucous clarinet plays the ideé fixe as a grotesque parody. She is gleefully welcomed and joins the infernal orgy. Funeral bells toll; low brass and bassoons play a parody of the “Dies Irae” from the mass of the dead. The witches begin their round-dance, heralded by different instrument choirs. The witches’ dance and the Dies Irae come together in a delirious finale, bringing this “fantastic symphony” to an end.
For Berlioz, the story did not end there. In 1832 he finally met Harriet Smithson – and married her a year later.
Schumann composed his Third Symphony in six weeks in 1850, after moving to the Rhineland to take up the post of music director in Düsseldorf. This symphony, which he premiered in 1851, quickly became one of his most popular works and is a masterpiece of romanticism.
Its five-movement structure is unusual, although not unique (both Beethoven and Berlioz had previously written multi-movement “programmatic” symphonies). The title “Rhenish” was not given by Schumann himself, but rather by his publisher. However, Schumann rejected a program idea for this symphony, believing that the music should be heard without the artifice of titles coming between the listener and the music, and he even removed some initial movement titles before publication. Despite this, glimpses of Rhenish life and influence can be easily discerned, especially in the second and fourth movements.
Structurally, this symphony can be viewed as having three sections – two thematically connected movements at the beginning and at the end, which bookend a lyrical “song without words” middle movement. The main theme is based on the interval of a falling fourth (E-flat to B-flat) followed by a rising sixth and rising fourth. These harmonic relationships are the basis for many of the themes in the other movements. The first movement begins with a theme propelled by rhythmic displacement, vigorously driving the piece forward. It is interrupted by a rising scale motive in the strings, which then leads to a lyrical second theme played by the woodwinds. All three themes become prominent and intertwined in the section. A triumphant return of the main theme is heralded by the horns and then taken up by the full orchestra at the end.
The second movement Scherzo is based on a German “ländler” folksong; like the first movement, it opens with a rising fourth in the ‘cellos, bassoons, and violas. After several variations, the Scherzo segues into a trio featuring horns and woodwinds. It reaches a climax, before ending in a hushed restatement of the main theme by the ‘cellos and first bassoon. The third movement is a tranquil musical miniature, akin to a song without words. Opening with a flowing theme by the clarinets and violas, it features a four-note motif in the strings imitated by other sections in the orchestra, which Schumann combines in the ending section.
The stately fourth movement is a magnificent example of Schumann’s inventiveness. It is marked “Feierlich” (solemnly), in the somber key of E-flat minor. Opening with trombones, horns and bassoons, the main theme is again based on a rising fourth. Schumann develops the opening theme in a remarkable overlapping and contrapuntal style, punctuated by brass fanfares towards the end of the movement. The last movement, “Lebhaft” (lively), is brisk and light-hearted. The opening theme again based on a rising fourth, this time in scale form. Towards the end of the piece, the brass – after yet another set of fanfares – return to the fourth movement theme, now in an optimistic tone. Brass flourishes and a quick coda propel this symphony to its triumphant ending.
After the death of his long-time patron, Prince Nikolaus Esterhazy, Haydn was engaged by the impresario and violinist J. P. Salomon to travel to London in 1791. In return for generous financial terms, Haydn agreed to write operas, symphonies and numerous other pieces for Salomon’s concerts. Haydn so won over London society that he was invited back for a second trip, in 1794. A major attraction of these concerts were Haydn’s celebrated “London Symphonies” (nos. 93-104), which he composed between 1791 and 1795.
Symphony No. 97 was first performed in 1792, at the Hanover Square Rooms in London. A four-movement work, it is full of Haydn’s humor, wit and special effects. Opening with a majestic (though tonally unsettled) Adagio, the following Vivace is built on a powerful C-major descending triad. The contrasting second theme has a folk-tune flavor, full of graceful flourishes. The Adagio Ma Non Troppo is based on a theme and variations, giving prominence to each of the orchestra’s sections, with a contrasting F minor section in the middle. The Menuetto and Trio are fully written out to showcase the musical themes with different orchestrations. In a nod to Salomon, Haydn gave him a violin solo in the last 8 bars of the trio, played an octave higher than the other violins! The final Presto Assai is a sparkling rondo, with unexpected key changes and rhythmic surprises to the very end.
The symphony is scored for 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets in B♭, 2 bassoons, 2 horns in F (in B♭ basso for the second movement), 2 trumpets in F, timpani, and strings.
Dvořák’s masterful Sixth Symphony is at once a sunny, lyrical work with moments of great subtlety, power and magnificence.
It was written in 1880, only three years after Brahms’ Second Symphony, to which it has certain similarities in choice of keys and orchestration. That being said, this is Dvořák’s first “mature” symphony, written in the “Slavic” style that characterizes his other orchestral and chamber works of that period. The Sixth Symphony was premiered in Prague in 1881 and soon became a staple of the orchestral repertoire.
Dvořák incorporates Czech folk melodies throughout, in particular in the famous “Furiant” third movement, based on a Czech dance. The first movement starts on a serene and sunny note, evoking the Bohemian countryside; a vigorous outburst by the horns and violins leads to majestic restatement of the main theme by the entire orchestra. A lyrical second theme is heralded by the oboe; both themes are thoroughly developed and interwoven throughout the entire orchestra. The second movement is a sweet nocturne, with counter-themes tossed back and forth between strings, winds and brass.
The Furiant is all about energy and syncopation, evoking Dvořák’s iconic Slavonic Dances. After a calm and melodious trio section, the Furiant returns in full force. The last movement starts out innocently enough in the strings, with a playful second triplet-based theme, before its massive development in the winds and brass. A stirring rendition of the main theme in slow motion, featuring the full-throated brass section, heralds the triumphant finale.
One of the celebrated “London” Symphonies, this masterwork was composed in 1795 during Haydn’s second triumphal visit to London. By then Haydn was the toast of English upper-class society. Haydn had splendid orchestral forces available to him in London, and he took full advantage of them in composing his twelve London symphonies. That includes Symphony 103, the “Drumroll,” so named because of its timpani opening. The symphony was premiered on March 2, 1795, with Haydn leading the orchestra. It was received with great acclaim; here is the review in the London Morning Chronicle the morning after the premiere:
Another new Overture [Symphony 103], by the fertile and enchanting HAYDN, was performed,
which as usual, had continuing strokes of genius, both in air and harmony. The Introduction
excited the deepest attention, the Allegro charmed, the Andante was encored[,] the Minuets, especially
the Trio, were playful and sweet, and the last movement was equal, if not superior to the preceding.
The symphony begins with a timpani roll or cadenza (a very unusual way to start a symphony). A slow introduction follows, led by the bass instruments (’cellos, basses and bassoon); this opening motif returns in disguised forms later in the movement. A sprightly theme is introduced by the upper strings. The second theme is a lilting tune in the violins and picked up by the woodwinds, reminiscent of a Viennese street song. Before the end of the movement Haydn briefly reprises the slow opening, heralded by another timpani roll.
The magnificent Andante movement is based on two Croatian folk tunes, one in C minor and one in C major. It is a “double variation” movement, in turn featuring strings, woodwinds, a solo violin; and massed horns, trumpets and timpani. The third movement Minuet is by turns energetic and elegant, with a charming trio section featuring clarinets.
The unusual fourth movement is based on just one theme — a horn call, accompanied by a quick-moving folk-like motif in the strings. Haydn fully develops this motif using counterpoint, imitation and brilliant passagework. Initiated by the strings, he gradually involves the whole orchestra before closing with a resounding finish.
Antonio Rosetti was a contemporary of Haydn and Mozart who, in his day, was highly regarded as a composer. He was born Anton Rösner in Bohemia, later changing his name to Antonio Rosetti. In 1773 he was hired as a servant and double-bass player in the well-regarded court orchestra of Kraft Ernst, Prince of Öttingen-Wallerstein in southern Germany. Rosetti’s compositional talents were quickly recognized, particularly for his expressive and sensitive woodwind writing. He soon became the Prince’s court composer, writing many symphonies, concertos, vocal and choral works. In 1789 Rosetti took on the post of Kapellmeister to the Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin in northeast Germany. He died three years later in 1792, just six months after Mozart’s death.
In 1781 Rosetti received permission from Prince Kraft Ernst to travel to Paris, where his music had become well-known. Many of his works became regular program pieces played by the Concert Spirituel, the same orchestra that had premiered Mozart’s “Paris” Symphony (No. 31) a few years earlier. Rosetti was very impressed by the orchestra, and composed his symphony “La Chasse” (“The Hunt”) specifically for it.
It features a full set of woodwinds and makes good use of them in this work. As a matter of musical taste, Parisian audiences favored lively and dramatic passages and scales; Rosetti uses those to great effect in this symphony. The first movement starts out with a whisper, with a dramatic crescendo to a first theme of leaps and scale-like passages. An expressive second theme in the strings is reminiscent of a Mozart or Haydn symphony.
The unusual second movement adagio is built around an expressive wind choir of clarinets and bassoons, punctuated by pizzicato string accompaniment. The third movement is a majestic minuet, with a lilting trio featuring solo winds. Rosetti pulls out all of his musical stops in the last “hunt” movement, including motifs of galloping horses, horn calls, and even barking hunting dogs, to bring this piece to a rousing conclusion.
