Sunday 9 March 2025 - Programme Notes by Nareece Forrest
Mozart - Overture, Don Giovanni
Richard Strauss - Suite in B♭ for Wind
Français - Double Bass Concerto
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Overture, Don Giovanni
In 1630, Spanish writer Tirso de Molina (the pen name of Gabriel Tellez) first introduced the character of Don Juan in his play El burlador de Sevilla y Convidado de Piedra (The Trickster of Seville and the Stone Guest). With poor moral character and a taste for high-living, Don Juan meets his fate and is sent to hell when he refuses to repent his actions.
It's an intriguing story, providing inspiration for many other composers, poets and writers, even to this day. Born in Italy in 1749, one such captivated artist was Lorenzo Da Ponte. He met and became friends with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart in 1783. As a poet and operatic librettist Da Ponte collaborated with Mozart on The Marriage of Figaro (1786), and after its early success both men were keen to join forces again. Da Ponte suggested Don Juan (Don Giovanni in Italian), and although Mozart was initially less keen, the quality of Da Ponte's writing led to Mozart being stirred into action. It's tempting to think that such a serious, moralistic tale as Don Giovanni needs powerful, heavy music to match, and whilst that's true, Mozart is such a nuanced, skillful composer that he also found the comedic moments and used them to provide much needed light against the dark. The opera premiered in Prague on October 29th 1787. It was well-received, and its popularity has continued for over two centuries. Don Giovanni is still lauded as one of the best operas ever written.
From the very opening note of the overture we are launched into drama. The full orchestra are deployed with a long, ominous, loud chord in D minor. Syncopated movement in the violins adds to the unease and an unexpected full orchestral silence heightens the tension even further. Tonally Mozart writes the expected I-V-I harmony, but juxtaposes it between loud and quiet, leaving our senses unsettled.
The 2nd violins take up an Alberti bass-like accompaniment in semiquavers, above which the 1st violins repeat a two bar melodic idea. Woodwinds create the harmony with long-held chords.
Flute and 1st violins combine with an edgy, rising and falling melody, gradually climbing higher. Other winds and lower strings keep the harmony moving, until a powerful cadence brings the dark opening to an end.
We immediately break out into sunny D major and pick up the tempo – Molto Allegro. Violas and cellos establish a bubbling background of quavers, and a bright melody is introduced by all violins, interjected by the woodwinds and horns with a sharp, rhythmical two-bar phrase. The two ideas pass back and forth until the violins draw the entire orchestra together in a toe-tapping cadence of D major arpeggios.
The strong contrast between the foreboding start and the cheerful second part of the overture keeps us well-engaged, and highlight Mozart's skill in writing music with great light and shade.
Mozart also continues to use contrasting loud or quiet moments to great affect, and the relentless energy pushes us to the end of the overture before we're ready. Like all masterful pieces it is plausibly perfect, and leaves us wanting more!
Richard Strauss - Suite in B♭ for Wind
Richard Strauss was born in Munich on 11th June, 1864. His father - Franz Strauss - was a music professor and principal horn player for the Munich Court Opera; thus Richard was exposed to a variety of chamber and orchestral music from a very early age. He wrote his first composition aged 6, and was, like one of his musical heroes Mozart, described as a compositional prodigy.
Strauss's father greatly encouraged his son, teaching him music theory and giving positive criticism on his early pieces. Between 1875-1896 Franz conducted an amateur orchestra named Wilde Gung'l. Many of his son's compositions were written for, and performed by the group, which undoubtedly helped the tally of over 140 compositions completed by the time young Strauss finished school in 1882, aged 18.
Franz passed his love for the music of Beethoven, Schumann, Mendelssohn and Mozart onto Richard. Their classical style can be heard in the balanced form of Strauss's First Symphony (1880), however Strauss took an experimental approach to the tonality of the piece, moving through a myriad of keys. This new way of treating harmony showed Strauss's own musical voice emerging, which was to strongly develop throughout his 79 year compositional life.
The Suite in B flat Op. 4 was conceived in 1884. Written for 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, contra-bassoon and 4 horns, it shows Strauss's rich understanding of instrumental strengths – giving the musicians lines which show the best of their instruments, whilst blending the tones together in an immersive sound.
Each of the four movements has its own motif. The opening Präludium (Prelude) begins with all musicians sharing a rhythmic triplet idea in cheery B flat major. When the harmony pulls into minor ambiguity we also lose the introductory figure and the oboe briefly takes the spotlight, but the bassoon takes charge and brings the triplets and opening key back to the fore. Just as all seems well, once again the oboe attempts its alternative tune, and this time the bassoon gives way and follows where the oboe leads. The others join in to show agreement, and with echoing waves of the opening triplets, the movement comes to a gentle close.
Set in G minor the 2nd movement is a wistful Romanze. The clarinet immediately shines, sparsely supported by two forlorn horns. Gradually the other players enter and move the clarinet along until the 1st horn announces a far-off, fanfare-like idea, which soon stops to allow the clarinets to duet above rich harmony, shared amongst the lower-pitched bassoons and horns. The fanfare returns – this time passed to the bassoon, and the 1st oboe claims the previous clarinet tune. All players combine and quietly end the Romance together.
Playing with our sense of tempo and key, Strauss opens the 3rd movement with just two bassoons, who quietly create long, four beat notes in octaves. They move in downward semitones, then repeat the notes in suddenly loud, short, crotchet succession. Even armed with the knowledge this movement is a Gavotte, and marked Allegro (lively), you would be forgiven for being confused!
The ambiguity ends as soon the other players enter, each picking up the bouncy character immediately and zipping us along with quick interjections.
Suddenly Strauss whisks us to a land reminiscent with Eastern promise, with both bassoons repeating held notes a fifth apart, over which a melancholy oboe laments. The flutes flutter by, but the oboe hasn't quite finished and repeats her refrain – persuading the clarinet to join her in an echo. The four horns fervently enter, bringing the Gavotte back for a sparkling finish.
The finale is a complex Introduction and Fugue. Starting in sorrowful B flat minor, and marked Andante Cantabile (at a walking pace in a singing style), we are without the flutes and oboes, creating a sonorous, low opening with the other players. Gradually the texture builds until we burst out of a cadence into B flat major once again. With permission to play lively and brightly (Allegro con brio) the horn heeds the command, closely followed by the clarinet, then oboe and flute. A successful fugue is in play, and we hear the seemingly never-ending melodic lines being woven between the players. All 13 instruments deploy their charm and wit throughout, until they are brought together for the most unified ending – a sequence of repeated B flat notes ringing out across the octaves.
Despite being only 20 years of age at its conception, Strauss shows his musical maturity throughout the Suite for Wind Op 4. The melodic and harmonic treatments foreshadow his later complex orchestral writing, so clearly evident in his one-act opera Daphne (1938) and Four Last Songs (1948).
Strauss died in 1949 aged 85, leaving behind a legacy of highly regarded, influential works. Not bad for a self-deprecating man who, a couple of years before his death, declared of himself “I may not be a first-rate composer, but I am a first-class second-rate composer.”
Jean Françaix - Double Bass Concerto
Jean René Désiré Françaix was born in Le Mans in 1918, surrounded by musical heritage. His father was a musicologist, composer, pianist and the Director of the Conservatoire of Le Mans; his mother - a vocal teacher. Both actively encouraged their son to be involved with music, and Jean showed natural ability from the start.
Following in his father's footsteps Françaix began piano lessons. He was just six years old when he first put pen to music manuscript, and aged ten was being coached by renowned gifted teacher Nadia Boulanger. She wrote to Jean's mother “Madame, I don't see why we should waste our time teaching him harmony. He already knows harmony. I don't know how, but he knows it; He was born knowing it. Let's work on counterpoint”.
Françaix was greatly inspired by the music of fellow Frenchman Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). However, his own style owed much to the Classical era, with clean, light orchestration and well-balanced musical themes. This neoclassical approach was Françaix's musical thumbprint. He remained loyal to the form right up until his death in 1997.
Much like Richard Strauss, Françaix lived a long compositional life - of 71 years. His prolific output peppered a wide range of genres, such as solo and chamber pieces, concertos, sixteen ballets, various film scores and large choral works.
The Concerto for Double Bass and Orchestra (1974), is one of ten pieces Françaix wrote for the instrument. Delicately scored to allow the bass to project, it is nonetheless full of character, rich harmony and considered structure.
The 1st movement is a relentless, cheeky march. Plucked strings set the pace, over which the bass simultaneously announces the opening theme. A snappy dotted rhythm keeps the bass front and centre, before a barrage of chromatic triplets begin. Both rhythmic ideas bat back and forth in the bass throughout the movement, whilst the orchestral accompaniment exudes stylish harmony.
The woodwind players are deliberately omitted at the beginning to allow the bass to be heard, so when they enter part-way through there's an interesting change of texture. A solo violin is given some prominence with a whimsical counterpoint, but with the bass barely pausing for breath throughout the entire movement, there can be no doubt who the main attraction is. A few simple, glassy cello harmonics signal the end, with the bass whirling to a sudden stop at the exact same moment.
Set in a fast triple time, the 2nd movement lives up to its title well – Scherzando (Playful). Strings and winds throw just 11 short quavers before the bass comes waltzing in, taking centre stage with a unique, rhythmically repeating pattern made with a rising and falling melody. The violins respond by leaning on the second (and third) beats of the bar. They sometimes glissando (slide) smoothly between the notes, which works in perfect contrast to the short, spiky bass line.
The bass scurries on, almost daring the orchestra to catch it, until the flute enters and gives the tiniest respite to the soloist. A bass trill is the only sound we hear before the mood switches into a slightly slower, almost grotesque dance. The harmony creeps bar by bar, and the 1st violin presents a quasi-improvisatory idea which the flute then develops, allowing the bass to tell a different, but complementary tale.
We are suddenly thrust back to the beginning of the movement again, affording us a second chance to hear the light-hearted ideas being put forward, but this time finishing part way through, to leave us wanting more.
Marked Andante (at walking pace), the 3rd movement features just the strings and bass. Moving together in gently rocking quavers throughout, the strings cushion the bass with sumptuous harmony involving 6ths, 7ths and 9ths. The soloist languishes above, using pitches more commonly found on the cello or viola. This plaintive sound is rarely exposed on the bass, adding to the dream-like quality created. Towards the end, we hear the soloist play some harmonics pitched so high they are found off the end of the fingerboard!
In sharp contrast to the 3rd movement, the finale to this concerto is fast and lively (Vivace). The bass enters before anyone else, setting the scene with a triplet/crotchet rhythm, only to be interrupted by off-beat pizzicato chords in the strings. Both solo and accompaniment continue at odds with each other, until the bass rests and violins pick up the soloist's melody. Suddenly the 4/4 time signature is replaced by 3/8, and the bass announces a new, good-humoured theme. Flute and clarinet enter - duetting in octaves, but before we get too used to the idea we switch back to 4/4. The bass takes off with the triplet/crotchet figure again, before developing it into an extended contradiction of rhythms against the rest of the orchestra. Everyone rests to allow the soloist a cadenza, which highlights moments from each of the preceding movements, before a flurry of double stops signals the orchestra to join in for the final flourish.
Franz Schubert - Symphony No 3
Like the other composers featured in our concert today, Franz Schubert (1797-1828) was a young prodigy who started writing music as a child. He was born in Vienna, and lived there all his life.
His father was a teacher and somewhat musical, giving Schubert initial violin lessons, while his elder brother Ignaz taught him piano. The brotherly teaching only lasted a few months; Ignaz later stated - “I was amazed when Franz told me that he had no need of any further instruction from me. In truth his progress in a short period was so great that I was forced to acknowledge in him a master who had completely distanced and outstripped me, and whom I despaired of overtaking.”
In 1804, aged just seven, Schubert's vocal ability caught the attention of one Antonio Salieri – Vienna's leading musical authority at the time. Salieri recognised Schubert's early genius, choosing to teach him privately in music theory and composition. Schubert responded well; over the next nine years he wrote various types of chamber music, several songs, piano pieces, choral works and his first symphony.
Schubert's Symphony No. 3 in D major, D200, was written in three short months between May and July 1815. Salieri's teaching had introduced Schubert to the orchestral music of Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827), Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) and Joseph Haydn (1732-1809), and their scores had a very positive influence on the budding composer. Schubert took heed of the harmonic progressions and perfectly balanced form crafted by the great masters, using their ideas to push the boundaries of creativity even further.
The first movement begins traditionally – with a slow introduction marked Adagio maestoso (slow, majestically). A rising scalic idea is passed around the violins, then flute and clarinet, until the music builds to a fantastic release into the Allegro con brio (fast, with spirit). It certainly lives up to the instruction, with fast flourishes of the rising scale being shared around the players. Violins busy themselves with textured semi-quavers, whilst the clarinet plays with a rhythmically zippy, dotted idea. Schubert makes great use of the sforzando (suddenly accented) notes – a popular technique used by many composers at the time - and the crescendos build dramatically, keeping our interest. The players share a variety of rhythms simultaneously which creates fantastic energy, and this grips us until the final bar of the movement.
All the strings quietly open the second Allegretto (moderately fast) movement, set in G major. The 1st violins immediately present a quaver-led, airy melody, soon encouraging the woodwind to join in. Everyone keeps the light, graceful mood as the clarinet takes the lead with a new theme, before the music goes back to the beginning, finishing elegantly.
Schubert's contemporaneous hero Beethoven was already challenging the accepted norms of the symphony's 3rd movement by taking what used to be an elegant Minuet and Trio, and turning it into a fast, wild Scherzo. Although Schubert names his 3rd movement here Minuet and Trio, he borrows from Beethoven's ideas and sets the theme on the 'wrong' beat of the bar by using the sforzando technique on the first beat. Again, like Beethoven, we lose the stately speed in favour of a fast, lively tempo Vivace. The nippy nature continues until the Trio, where the tempo relaxes a little and oboe and bassoon smoothly duet over light orchestral accompaniment. Following the expected structure the Trio ends and the Minuet returns, to end the movement with the same vigour as it started.
In the finale to his symphony, Schubert ramps up the drama even further – requesting Presto vivace, very fast, lively. The 6/8 metre accentuates the speed and from the very first bar the 1st violins scurry to keep pace. Woodwinds, brass and timpani humorously try to interject, but are ignored... twice! The music fizzes along, and a rising, 4-quaver note motif is introduced by the flute and quickly passed around the orchestra. The energy never falters and we reach the end of the movement with five, exultant, harmonically-arpeggiated chords, ending on one final held note – D, played by the orchestra in octaves. This neatly mirrors the opening to the symphony by the youthful Schubert.
Although it was never published in his lifetime, the instant appeal of the symphony helped its popularity and ensured it remained in the hearts of the audience, musicians and musical scholars alike for the past 210 years.