≈ 2 hours · With intermission
Last updated: April 2, 2024
WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550 (26 min)
I. Molto allegro
II. Andante
III. Menuetto: Allegretto – Trio
IV. Allegro assai
RALPH VAUGHAN WILLIAMS The Lark Ascending (15 min)
Jessica Linnebach, violin
INTERMISSION
DMITRI SHOSTAKOVICH Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47 (46 min)
I. Moderato
II. Allegretto
III. Largo
IV. Allegro non troppo
I. Molto allegro
II. Andante
III. Menuetto: Allegretto – Trio
IV. Allegro assai
Mozart (1756–1791) composed his G minor Symphony, K. 550 (No. 40) during the summer of 1788, the same period in which he wrote No. 39 in E-flat major (K. 543) and the “Jupiter” Symphony in C major (No. 41, K. 551). They would be his final works in the genre. Information about their early performances remains scant, but they probably first appeared in concerts in Vienna in the autumn of that year. (Mozart was a pragmatic composer and was unlikely to have written symphonies, then a genre of increasing prestige, without the prospect of earning money or recognition.) Originally scored for woodwinds (including flute, oboes, bassoons), horns, and strings, it’s believed K. 550 received other performances, for Mozart later added a pair of clarinets to the instrumentation. He had long loved the sound and expressive qualities of the instrument, and in this version of the symphony, the first clarinet is given much of the principal moments that were initially intended for the oboe.
Scholars and critics regard the composer’s final three symphonies as the pinnacle of his orchestral oeuvre, bringing to these works, as Mozart specialists Cliff Eisen and Stanley Sadie put it, “a new understanding of [the orchestra’s] possibilities as a corporate body and as a collection of individuals.” This is evident in the way Mozart uses interaction among the orchestra’s instruments, that is, through dialogue—a prominent feature of K. 550. In the first movement, listen out for the exchanges between the woodwinds and strings; for example, the notes of the graceful second theme are divided and presented in alternation between the two groups of instruments (strings–winds–strings) that then switch (to winds–strings–winds) when the theme is repeated. Later in the central development section, strings and woodwinds echo each other with fragments of the main theme.
In the finale, Mozart forms distinct clusters of strings and applies strong dynamic contrasts to highlight the differences as they engage in dialogue—like the first theme, which opens softly on an ascending motive in the first violins, and then completed, suddenly loudly by all the violins. The finale’s developmental section also contains much imitative dialogue between woodwinds and strings, with the latter further split into additional groups including the first violins alone, upper strings (violins and violas), and lower strings (cellos and double basses). Throughout the second and third movements as well, you’ll hear many similar instances of inventive interaction.
Another notable aspect of K. 550 is the prominence of the woodwinds, practically equal to the strings, as employed in the dialogic texture. Moreover, they’re not just responding to the strings but are active, too, in presenting the main thematic material, thus providing variety of timbre and instrumental effect. In the Trio of the third movement, even the horns, which usually have a supporting role in late 18th-century symphonies, are given the melody’s smooth arcing phrases at its reprise.
Also distinctive of K. 550 is its setting in G minor, with all movements, save the second, firmly in that key. (It’s the second of only two minor-key symphonies that Mozart wrote; K. 183, or No. 25, from 1773 is also in G minor.) As a result, there’s a certain expressive power to the piece, suggesting inner anguish. This sentiment is amplified by other characteristics such as the repetitive figure of the symphony’s opening tune that dominates the whole first movement like an obsessive worry, the angular theme of the Menuetto, the bold harmonic shifts at the beginning of the development sections in the first and fourth movements, as well as extreme dynamic contrasts and poignant chromatic writing. It's for these aspects that K. 550, as noted by musicologist Simon P. Keefe, is “typically considered one of Mozart’s most progressive, proto-Romantic works.”
The Lark Ascending is one of Ralph Vaughan Williams’s (1872–1958) most popular and beloved works. With its dreamy and idyllic atmosphere, the piece compels listeners to be present in a moment of balm. The circumstances in which the piece was composed also contribute to its potency with audiences, now as then, living in volatile times. Vaughan Williams composed it in early August 1914, just before Britain entered the First World War. He completed a version for violin and piano but then put it aside; within months, he joined the Field Ambulance unit of the Royal Army Medical Corps, which was posted to France and Greece. After the war, he returned to the score of The Lark Ascending and with the assistance of English violinist Marie Hall, created a revised version for violin and orchestra. Hall gave the first performance of the original version with pianist Geoffrey Mendham at Bristol’s Shirehampton Public Hall on December 15, 1920. The following June, on the 14th, she premiered the orchestral version in London with the British Symphony Orchestra conducted by Adrian Boult. Vaughan Williams dedicated the piece to her.
The Lark Ascending takes its title and inspiration from a poem by George Meredith, which was published in his collection Poems and Lyrics of the Joys of the Earth in 1881. In his score, Vaughan Williams includes three extracts from the beginning, middle, and end of Meredith’s poem, which pays exalted tribute to the flight and song of the skylark:
He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound,
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake.
…
For singing till his heaven fills,
‘Tis love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden coup
And he the wine which overflows
To lift us with him as he goes.
…
Till lost on his aerial rings
In light, and then the fancy sings.
Subtitled a “romance” for violin and orchestra, this lyrical piece exemplifies the composer’s pastoral style infused with folk-inspired elements. Untouched by the musical modernisms dominating the period (Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring premiered only a year before the first version of The Lark Ascending was composed), it seems to stand outside of its time. In a review of the first performance, the critic of The Times praised the work for “show[ing] serene disregard of the fashions of today or yesterday. It dreams its way along.”
The Lark Ascending unfolds in a symmetrical design, beginning with a rising series of chords in the orchestra over a sustained note in the double basses. As strings hold a chord, the soloist enters with warbling music (built on a pentatonic scale) that ascends to the high register of the instrument—it evokes both the lark’s song and its flight. At the peak, a folk song–like melody emerges, as its phrases make a gradual descent. When the strings enter, the melody is now a clear theme. As different instruments take turns meditating on it, the soloist weaves in and out of the texture, alternating melodic fragments and elaborate figuration. A climax is reached with full orchestra and the violin playing in octaves, after which the music subsides with more contemplative musings on the theme. The opening chords return, restoring calm, as the violin/lark sings another (shorter) cadenza.
The flute opens the second section playing a gentle, dance-like tune, the phrases of which are then taken up in turn by various instruments, including the solo violin. When not playing the melody, the violin breaks out in a florid counterpoint of arpeggios, scales, and trills. An ensuing episode, featuring violin trills tinged with glints of triangle, intensifies to another peak. After it relaxes, the violin recaps the flute’s tune, the head motive of which then becomes a series of chords that are twice intoned by the orchestra. Each time, the violin responds with a gentle cascade of double stops, then joins the orchestra the third time to lead into a warm, full-bodied reprise of the theme from the first section. Following the final climax and winding down, the orchestra sinks into the rising sequence of chords, now in a state of deeper tranquility. The violin makes its songful ascent one last time, and at the conclusion, hovers alone in the ethereal heights.
I. Moderato
II. Allegretto
III. Largo
IV. Allegro non troppo
By the early 1930s, Dmitri Shostakovich (1906–1975) was one of the Soviet Union’s leading composers, renowned in his home country and abroad. In 1934, his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District premiered in Leningrad to huge acclaim. Two years later, despite having already received 180 performances, the work was denounced in the newspaper Pravda as “muddle instead of music,” after Joseph Stalin and his officials attended a new Bolshoy production on January 26, 1936. Practically overnight, Shostakovich became an artistic pariah; on February 6, another public blow was dealt when his ballet The Limpid Stream was condemned in the paper as a “balletic falsity.” From these unsigned articles, the message of Stalin’s government became crystal clear: mend your artistic ways or face the consequences. Shockwaves rippled across the Soviet cultural establishment—one of their leading lights was under threat of being extinguished and soon many others would be targets. As Stalin’s Great Purge began, those found not falling into line risked arrest, time at a brutal labour camp, or execution.
Having endured the Pravda denunciations, Shostakovich now had to figure out a way to survive artistically. At this critical juncture, he might have created a work that either set a text or followed a programmatic description that, in explicitly extolling the party line, might placate Stalin and his officials. Instead, he sought to rehabilitate his reputation with a symphony. This was a gamble, to be sure. Shostakovich had been working on his Fourth Symphony when the denunciations happened, and even after his humiliation, he planned to have it premiered in December 1936. During rehearsals, the piece was withdrawn at the last minute (it was not premiered until 1961). He pressed on, composing his fifth symphony between April and June of 1937 (during the height of the Great Purge); the first performance, by the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra, took place on November 21 that year.
Public reaction to the premiere was extraordinary—there was open weeping during the slow movement and at the end, a standing ovation that lasted over half an hour. The responses of critics were also generally very positive. Very quickly soon after, the work was absorbed into the Soviet canon of performance repertoire and Shostakovich’s stature was gradually restored. It also became a hit internationally. Today, it remains the most popular and most frequently performed of Shostakovich’s 15 symphonies.
Composed under unprecedented conditions of political surveillance and interference, the Fifth Symphony was a significant turning point for Shostakovich creatively. According to musicologist David Fanning, the composer “needed a formula for balancing his artistic conscience with requirements handed down from above, which could be as unpredictable as they were imperative.” The abstract form of the symphony was the way forward, for within it, Shostakovich could, Fanning further notes, “continue to moderate his style in the direction of ‘acceptable’ lyrical and heroic intonations while at the same time devising an interplay of contextual and intertextual meanings which could modify or even contradict the surface impression.” As the first development of this concept, the Fifth was a very successful one, not least also because of those who, as Shostakovich specialist Pauline Fairclough has observed, “knew how to frame and interpret [the Fifth] in such a way that its acclaim could be justified in ideological terms” to the Soviet authorities. In the months following the premiere, through the spin of journalism, the symphony came to take on the subtitle (not Shostakovich’s, to be clear) of “A Soviet Artist’s Creative Response to Just Criticism.”
For his Fifth, Shostakovich employed a tried-and-true model, established by Beethoven in his own Fifth Symphony over a century earlier and used by many composers thereafter: that of the symphony conveying a psychological journey from struggle to triumph. Speaking to a Literaturnaya gazeta correspondent for an article published January 12, 1938, he had claimed that he wished “to show in the [fifth] symphony how through a series of tragic conflicts and through great internal struggles, ‘optimism as a worldview’ could triumph.” Certainly, he was aware of the universal appeal of the concept. Only in the notes of the score did he hint at what this meant to him personally: the fourth movement includes musical quotations from his 1936 setting of Pushkin’s poem “Rebirth”, the text of which describes the survival of true art in the face of an “artist-barbarian” who “blackens the painting of a genius.”
Within this arc, the music of the Fifth traverses a vast emotional terrain conveyed through the composer’s inventive mastery of orchestration technique and symphonic process. The influence of Gustav Mahler is evident (Shostakovich had been studying his symphonies at the time of the Fifth’s composition), albeit with a Shostakovichian twist. You’ll hear it throughout in the evocation of bleak, desolate landscapes, sinister marches and ironic Ländlers, massive climactic build-ups that are brutally thwarted, and moments of fragility—tender, hopeful, consoling. From the tragic grandeur of its first movement, through the darkly humorous second, the anguished heart of the third, to its blazing finale, Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony is an intensely cathartic musical experience.
Yet, you’d be right in detecting more than a hint of ambivalence in the “triumphant” coda of the finale (observant critics at the premiere also perceived this). After all, it’s hardly the expression of unbridled joy: Following a massive slow down and a wrenching shift to D major, it proceeds at an obstinately steady pace. Over sustained brass fanfares and booming strokes of timpani, strings and woodwinds relentlessly intone the same pitches at fortississimo (extremely loudly) for well over a minute until just before the final chord. Over the years, subjected to competing interpretations (both in words and in performance), the “meaning” of this ending has proved particularly slippery and controversial. Some have doubted the sincerity of the triumph, but this, too, is overly reductionist. Moreover, as Fairclough has thoroughly investigated, it wouldn’t have made sense for Soviet audiences to react so openly and strongly to the symphony and for the Leningrad and Moscow Philharmonics to perform it as frequently as they did (at least 21 times between them alone from 1937 to 1941), risking their lives to champion a work by a composer whose reputation was on shaky ground, if it was felt the triumph was simply forced or false. Perhaps, then, the remarkable power of the ending of Shostakovich’s Fifth is in its multivalency—that it speaks to our capacity to feel conflicting emotions, and enables us to embrace them, individually and collectively, within the complexities of our own experiences.
Program notes by Hannah Chan-Hartley, PhD
Principal Guest Conductor of the National Arts Centre Orchestra in Ottawa and Chief Conductor of the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra and the Turku Philharmonic Orchestra, John Storgårds has a dual career as a conductor and violin virtuoso and is widely recognized for his creative flair for programming and rousing yet refined performances. As Artistic Director of the Lapland Chamber Orchestra, a title he has held for over 25 years, Storgårds earned global critical acclaim for the ensemble’s adventurous performances and award-winning recordings.
Internationally, Storgårds appears with such orchestras as the Berliner Philharmoniker, the Munich Philharmonic, the Orchestre National de France, the Vienna Radio Symphony, and the London Philharmonic Orchestra, as well as all of the major Nordic orchestras, including the Helsinki Philharmonic, where he was Chief Conductor from 2008 to 2015. He also regularly returns to the Münchener Kammerorchester, where he was Artistic Partner from 2016 to 2019. Further afield, he appears with the Sydney, Melbourne, Yomiuri Nippon, and NHK symphony orchestras and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and the New York Philharmonic.
Storgårds’s award-winning discography includes not only recordings of works by Schumann, Mozart, Beethoven, and Haydn but also rarities by Holmboe and Vask, which feature him as violin soloist. Cycles of the complete symphonies of Sibelius (2014) and Nielsen (2015) with the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra were released to critical acclaim by Chandos. November 2019 saw the release of the third and final volume of works by American avant-garde composer George Antheil. Their latest project, recording the late symphonies of Shostakovich, commenced in April 2020 with the release of Symphony No. 11. In 2023, Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic were nominated for Gramophone magazine’s Orchestra of the Year Award.
Storgårds studied violin with Chaim Taub and conducting with Jorma Panula and Eri Klas. He received the Finnish State Prize for Music in 2002 and the Pro Finlandia Prize in 2012.
Canadian violinist of German and Lebanese ancestry, Jessica Linnebach, has established herself as an accomplished artist with a thriving multi-faceted career encompassing solo, chamber, and orchestral performances.
Known for her “burnt caramel sound, utterly fearless virtuosity . . . and romantic lyricism” (ARTSFILE), Jessica has performed as a soloist with orchestras around the world. A passionate chamber musician, Jessica is a member of the Ironwood String Quartet along with her NAC Orchestra colleagues Emily Kruspe, Carissa Klopoushak, and Rachel Mercer. They are frequent performers at chamber music series and festivals, including the NAC’s WolfGANG and Music for a Sunday Afternoon series and Ottawa Chamberfest, Pontiac Enchanté, Ritornello, and Classical Unbound festivals. As part of a commitment to reaching broader audiences, Jessica is one of the artistic directors of the Classical Unbound Festival, a chamber music festival in Prince Edward County, Ontario.
Accepted to the world-renowned Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia at age ten, Jessica remains one of the youngest-ever Bachelor of Music graduates in the school’s history. While there, Jessica’s primary teachers were Aaron Rosand, Jaime Laredo, and Ida Kavafian. At age 18, she received her Master of Music from the Manhattan School of Music in New York City, where she studied with Pinchas Zukerman and Patinka Kopec.
Jessica resides in Ottawa, where she has been Associate Concertmaster with the NAC Orchestra since 2010. A natural leader, Jessica has performed numerous times as guest concertmaster with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, and the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra.
Jessica plays a circa 1840 Jean-Baptiste Vuillaume (Guarnerius del Gésu 1737) violin. Her bows are crafted by Ron Forrester and Michael Vann.
Canada’s National Arts Centre (NAC) Orchestra is praised for the passion and clarity of its performances, its visionary learning and engagement programs, and its unwavering support of Canadian creativity. The NAC Orchestra is based in Ottawa, Canada’s national capital, and has grown into one of the country’s most acclaimed and dynamic ensembles since its founding in 1969. Under the leadership of Music Director Alexander Shelley, the NAC Orchestra reflects the fabric and values of Canada, engaging communities from coast to coast to coast through inclusive programming, compelling storytelling, and innovative partnerships.
Since taking the helm in 2015, Shelley has shaped the Orchestra’s artistic vision, building on the legacy of his predecessor, Pinchas Zukerman, who led the ensemble for 16 seasons. Shelley’s influence extends beyond the NAC. He serves as Principal Associate Conductor of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra in the U.K. and Artistic and Music Director of Artis—Naples and the Naples Philharmonic in the U.S. Shelley’s leadership is complemented by Principal Guest Conductor John Storgårds and Principal Youth Conductor Daniel Bartholomew-Poyser. In 2024, the Orchestra marked a new chapter with the appointment of Henry Kennedy as its first-ever Resident Conductor.
The Orchestra has a rich history of partnerships with renowned artists such as James Ehnes, Angela Hewitt, Renée Fleming, Hilary Hahn, Jeremy Dutcher, Jan Lisiecki, Ray Chen, and Yeol Eum Son, underscoring its reputation as a destination for world-class talent. As one of the most accessible, inclusive and collaborative orchestras in the world, the NAC Orchestra uses music as a universal language to communicate the deepest of human emotions and connect people through shared experiences.
A hallmark of the NAC Orchestra is its national and international tours. The Orchestra has performed concerts in every Canadian province and territory and earned frequent invitations to perform abroad. These tours spotlight Canadian composers and artists, bringing their voices to stages across North America, the United Kingdom, Europe, and Asia.
First Violins
Yosuke Kawasaki (concertmaster)
Jessica Linnebach (associate concertmaster)
Noémi Racine Gaudreault (assistant concertmaster)
Carissa Klopoushak
Marjolaine Lambert
Manuela Milani
Emily Westell
*Andréa Armijo Fortin
*Oleg Chelpanov
*John Corban
*Marc Djokic
*Martine Dubé
*Renée London
*Erica Miller
Second Violins
Emily Kruspe
Jeremy Mastrangelo
Mark Friedman
Zhengdong Liang
Frédéric Moisan
Leah Roseman
Edvard Skerjanc
Karoly Sziladi
Winston Webber
*Sara Mastrangelo
*Heather Schnarr
*Sarah Williams
Violas
Jethro Marks (principal)
David Marks (associate principal)
David Goldblatt (assistant principal)
Tovin Allers
Paul Casey
David Thies-Thompson
*Kelvin Enns
*Carolyn Farnand
*Hillary Fay
*Mary-Kathryn Stevens
Cellos
Rachel Mercer (principal)
Julia MacLaine (assistant principal)
Timothy McCoy
Marc-André Riberdy
Leah Wyber
*Desiree Abbey
*Karen Kang
*Daniel Parker
Double Basses
*Sam Loeck (guest principal)
Max Cardilli (assistant principal)
Marjolaine Fournier
Vincent Gendron
*Talia Hatcher
*Paul Mach
Flutes
Joanna G’froerer (principal)
Stephanie Morin
*Christian Paquette
Oboes
Charles Hamann (principal)
Anna Petersen
English Horn
Anna Petersen
Clarinets
Kimball Sykes (principal)
Sean Rice
*Shauna Barker
Bassoons
Darren Hicks (principal)
Vincent Parizeau
*Ian Hopkin
Horns
*Brian Mangrum (guest principal)
Julie Fauteux (associate principal)
Lawrence Vine
Lauren Anker
Louis-Pierre Bergeron
*Olivier Brisson
Trumpets
Karen Donnelly (principal)
Steven van Gulik
*Michael Fedyshyn
*Amy Horvey
Trombones
*Steve Dyer (guest principal)
Colin Traquair
Bass Trombone
Zachary Bond
Tuba
Chris Lee (principal)
Timpani
*Bradley Davis (guest principal)
Percussion
Jonathan Wade
*Andrew Johnson
*Louis Pino
*Joshua Wynnyk
Harp
*Angela Schwarzkopf (guest principal)
*Alanna Ellison
Keyboards
*Olga Gross
Principal Librarian
Nancy Elbeck
Assistant Librarian
Corey Rempel
Personnel Manager
Meiko Lydall
Orchestra Personnel Coordinator
Laurie Shannon
*Additional musicians
**On leave
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