2019-05-22 19:30 2019-05-22 21:30 60 Canada/Eastern 🎟 NAC: Canada’s NAC Orchestra in Copenhagen

https://nac-cna.ca/en/event/20003

Canada’s National Arts Centre Orchestra continues its 50th Anniversary European Tour, led by renowned British Music Director Alexander Shelley, in Denmark.  Since becoming Music Director of the NAC Orchestra, Maclean‘s has credited Shelley for turning the orchestra “almost overnight… into one of the more audacious orchestras in North America.” The NAC Orchestra offers a dazzling program at DR Koncerthuset in Copenhagen: The beautiful program opens with...

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DR Koncerthuset,Copenhagen,Denmark
Wed, May 22, 2019
Wed, May 22, 2019

Repertoire

CLAUDE VIVIER

Lonely Child

Born in Montreal, April 14, 1948
Died in Paris, March 7, 1983

When Quebec composer Claude Vivier was murdered in his Paris apartment at the age of 34, he was already highly regarded as one of Canada’s most important composers. Since that time Vivier’s reputation has taken on almost mythic proportions, and his music continues to be performed with a regularity seldom seen in contemporary composers. Following the announcement of Vivier’s death, critic and musicologist Harry Halbreich wrote in Harmonie-Panorama Musique that “his music really resembles no other, and he puts himself right on the fringe of all trends. His music, of a direct and disruptive expression, could bewilder only those hard-hearted people who are unfit to categorize this independent man of genius. Claude Vivier found what so many others have sought for, and still seek: the secret of a truly new simplicity.”

Vivier studied in Montreal, then in Holland, France and Germany. A deep affection for Asian cultures led him to an extended stay in Bali, whose music influenced his own. A fascination with plainchant deriving from his Catholic upbringing and an abiding concern with death and immortality also coloured his music. At the time of his own death he was writing a choral piece called Glaubst du an die Unsterblichkeit der Seele? (Do you believe in the immortality of the soul?) In the preface to the published score of Lonely Child, Jaco Mijnheer writes: “The music of Claude Vivier is a reflection of his personal life.… Both directly and indirectly, the themes of his compositions were inspired by his unknown family origins, his search for his mother, his religious vocation, his homosexuality and even his premature death. The 49 works composed during his brief career comprise the impressive legacy of an individual as passionate about life as he was about music.”

Vivier composed Lonely Child in 1980 on commission from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC). Serge Garant conducted the premiere the following year with the CBC Vancouver Chamber Orchestra and soprano Marie‑Danielle Parent. The score is dedicated to the singer Louise André, a teacher at the Université de Montréal. Lonely Child is generally regarded as Vivier’s first mature work. The 20-minute composition is framed by similar purely instrumental passages, from which its melodic material is derived. 

Vivier wrote the instrumental component first, then superimposed the text, which is mostly in French but incorporates also words from the composer’s own invented language derived from Malaysian and other languages Vivier spoke. As well as being Vivier’s first mature work, Lonely Child is also his first composition to utilize his “colours,” which Mijnheer describes as “harmonic spectra produced through the addition of frequencies.… In these ‘colours,’… the distinction between harmony and timbre disappears: the different instruments are barely discernible individually, but rather melt into the sound of the orchestra that, as such, becomes one immense instrument of colours.”

The text begins: “Beauteous child of light, sleep… forever sleep,” and ends: “Beyond time, my child appears, the stars in the sky are shining for you, Tazio, and will love you forever and ever.” It is obviously a message sung vicariously by the composer to the child of the work’s title. Vivier the orphan, Vivier the lost soul, Vivier the lonely child, is attempting, in his own words, “to reach this voice of the lonely child desiring to embrace the world with naïve love – this voice that all hear and want to dwell in forever.”

— Program notes by Robert Markow

FELIX MENDELSSOHN

Violin Concerto

Born in Hamburg, February 3, 1809 
Died in Leipzig, November 4, 1847

The facility, polish and effortless grace found in Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto totally belie the creator’s struggle to compose it. This enormously popular concerto, Mendelssohn’s last major composition, occupied him for over five years (1838–1844), during which he carried on a lively exchange of ideas about the structural and technical details with the concerto’s dedicatee, violinist Ferdinand David (1810–1873). When Mendelssohn became conductor of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, he instated David as his concertmaster. At the concerto’s premiere on March 13, 1845, David was of course the soloist.  

Mendelssohn, trained in the classical tradition, nevertheless possessed a romantic streak which manifested itself in the poetic fantasy that infuses his music, and in the liberties he took with regard to formal construction. For example, there is no opening orchestral introduction. The soloist enters with the main theme almost immediately. All three movements are joined, with no formal pauses to break the flow. A cadenza, which normally would appear near the end of a concerto’s first movement, in this work is placed before, not after, the recapitulation.

The term “well-bred” is often invoked to describe this concerto, and it is nowhere more appropriate than in describing the quiet rapture and poetic beauty of the second movement’s principal theme. A moment of sweet melancholy in A minor intrudes briefly, with trumpets and timpani adding a touch of agitation. The principal theme then returns in varied repetition, and a gently yearning passage, again in A minor, leads to the finale. As in the two previous movements, the soloist announces the principal theme, one of elfin lightness and gaiety.

– Program note by Robert Markow

Antonín Dvořák

Symphony No. 9 in E minor, Op. 95, “From the New World”

I. Adagio – Allegro molto
II. Largo
III. Scherzo: Molto vivace
IV. Allegro con fuoco

After the second movement, storms of applause resounded from all sides. Everyone present turned to look in the direction in which the conductor, Anton Seidl, was looking. At last, a sturdily-built man of medium height, straight as a fir tree from the forest whose music he so splendidly interprets, was discovered by the audience. From all over the hall there are cries of “Dvořák! Dvořák!” And while the composer is bowing, we have the opportunity to observe this poet of tone who is able to move the heart of so great an audience. […] Dr. Dvořák, hands trembling with emotion, indicates his thanks with Mr. Seidl, the orchestra and the audience, whereupon he disappears into the background while the Symphony continues.

So described the New York Herald’s critic of what occurred at the premiere of Dvořák’s “New World” Symphony, performed by the New York Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall, on December 15, 1893. Based on this report, the piece appeared to be an unequivocal success, but this was not remotely the full picture. Even the work’s popularity today—it’s been regularly performed by orchestras around the world since the early 20th century—conceals a history and legacy that’s more complicated and uncomfortable, as musicologist Douglas Shadle incisively revealed in his recent historical study of the piece. As Jim Crow laws took hold in the late 19th century, the composition, performance, and initial reception of this symphony brought to a head many divisive issues regarding musical nationalism, aesthetics, and racial politics, the effects of which still resonate throughout American classical music culture today.

The “New World” Symphony was the first of several works Dvořák completed after he came to New York in 1892 to be artistic director and professor of composition at the National Conservatory of Music. The institution’s president, Jeannette Thurber, had invited him, believing that the Czech composer, then at the peak of his fame, could help guide the creation of an American “national” style of art music. As he considered what this could be, Dvořák learned about African American spirituals from one of the Conservatory’s Black students, Henry Thacker Burleigh, and was also given transcriptions of Indigenous melodies from the critic Henry Krehbiel. Eventually, he arrived at what he thought was the way forward. In a New York Herald interview published in May 1893, the composer declared that the music of the African diaspora “must be the real foundation of any serious and original school of composition to be developed in the United States.”

Dvořák’s statement, appearing months before the symphony’s premiere, proved to be explosive, as many white critics and composers offered a wide gamut of responses, much of it revealing deeply racist attitudes. While a few agreed with him, some felt that diasporic African melodies were too trivial a music to warrant “elevation” to (European) art music; several declared that such music was not even genuinely American to begin with, while others said that “the best” of these melodies were written by white men like Stephen Foster. It did not occur to them that Black musicians and composers at the time might have their own perspectives to contribute to the conversation.

When Dvořák arrived in the States, Thurber gave him a copy of Henry Longfellow’s epic poem The Song of Hiawatha, hoping he would first write an opera. But he wrote a four-movement symphony instead, which was perhaps more significant, given that late-19th century critics regarded it as the most prestigious type of orchestral composition, and despite its Germanic origins, upheld it as a mode of universal expression. Structurally, the “New World” Symphony unfolds conventionally, with fast outer movements (the first opens with a slow introduction) framing a slow movement and a scherzo and trio, both of which Dvořák noted were influenced by Longfellow’s poem (the latter depicting Hiawatha’s wedding feast). For the symphony’s thematic material, just as he drew on the shape, colour, and “spirit” of Czech folk music to create original tunes for his earlier works, the composer similarly saw diasporic African music as raw material for his inspiration and manipulation. (Dvořák did not regard his appropriation as problematic, being ignorant, as Shadle has said, of “th[is] music’s historical and emotional ties to Black bodies.”) In line with the venerated principle of thematic unity, musical motifs from the Allegro molto return in later movements, such as its first and closing themes appearing simultaneously at the second movement’s climax, with the Largo’s own haunting main melody; the scherzo also features reminiscences of the same themes; and in the finale, melodies from the first and second movements reappear in the coda, with the symphony closing on a blazing statement of the Allegro molto’s first theme.

A question lingers: Does the “New World” Symphony sound American? Some critics in Dvořák’s day were unconvinced, asserting that what the composer wrote sounded more Slavic or even Irish, comparisons not entirely devoid of racist sentiment in 19th-century America. Thus, as we today might continue to feel drawn to this work’s power, we must also grapple with the historical complexities of its creation and the legacy of its performance.

Program notes by Hannah Chan-Hartley, PhD

Artists

  • Conductor Alexander Shelley
  • Soprano Erin Wall
  • Violin James Ehnes