The Many Sonatas of Scarlatti

Domenico Scarlatti was born on this day in 1685 in Italy. He was a contemporary of Bach and Handel, both of whom were born in the same year in Germany.

Scarlatti is perhaps most well known for his over 550 keyboard sonatas. They were originally written probably for harpsichord, but now tend to be played just as much on the piano. They largely follow a simple two-section pattern, each with a repeat, and tend to be short - usually 5 minutes or less. They are delightful little gems. Many are extremely beautiful and profound, and can be extremely challenging to play.

The great Vladimir Horowitz played lots of Scarlatti, especially near the end of his life. Here he is at a ripe old age of 82:
- Sonata in E Major, L. 224, showing off a brilliant light touch and lightning fast arpeggios.

- Sonata in B minor, L. 33, expressing an amazing depth of expression and interconnecting melodies and harmonies.

- Sonata in E Major, L. 23, a very common and popular Scarlatti sonata with a very sunny disposition and jaunty rhythm.

Here's an amazing performance by Martha Argerich of the Sonata in D minor, K. 141, a very fast, impressive piece with lots of repeated notes.

Here's a very old recording of the legendary Arturo Benedetti Michaelangeli playing Sonata in B minor flawlessly.

Gyorgy Cziffra was generally known for his romantic music, especially that of Liszt, but here he is playing some impressive Scarlatti, although I must say he alters the character of the pieces in a romantic tradition at times:
Sonata in D Major, K. 96, a technically difficult piece, and Sonata in A Major, K. 101, a more laid back piece, but full of fast parts, too.

Some people transcribe his works for other instruments, such as guitar:
Sonata in D minor, K. 1, a very popular sonata.

Here is the guitar legend, Andres Segovia playing the Sonata in C minor, K. 11 transcribed into D minor for guitar, one of Scarlatti's best.

I'll end with one of his sonatas played on harpsichord, probably as it was originally intended. Here is the fast and relentless Sonata in D minor, K. 517.

The Ultimate Virtuoso Pianist-Composer

The great pianist-composer Franz Liszt was born in Hungary today in 1811. He is well-known for writing (and playing) some of the most technically difficult piano music in the world, music which at the time perhaps only he and a few others could play. But today the music finds its way into many concerts and competitions, and continues to amaze listeners and inspire young hopeful pianists.

Liszt's contemporaries included Chopin and Schumann (both one year older), as well as Wagner (two years younger). The latter composer eventually became his son-in-law, after Liszt's daughter Cosima (herself born illegitimately from an affair Liszt had with a married countess) left her husband, the pianist-conductor Hans von Bulow, and ran off with Wagner. When asked about what he thought of this, von Bulow supposedly said "Had it been any other man than Wagner, I would have killed him" - he idolized Wagner's music genius, and apparently didn't hold any grudges. What colorful lives!

Anyway, Liszt's music is not necessarily known for his compositional genius like Mozart, Beethoven, or Bach. Nor does he have an overwhelming amount of original memorable themes in his compositions. However, he deserves a place amongst the great composers for his forward-thinking in compositional styles, his amazing virtuosity, and his impact on composers that came after him.

Here are some interesting and important compositions:

- Grand Galop Chromatique, a wildly insanely difficult piece, played by the great Liszt interpreter, Georges Cziffra. This represents the typical "dazzling showmanship" Liszt that characterizes much of his music.

- La Campanella (from the Paganini-Liszt Etudes), a very famous and difficult transcription of a theme from one of Paganini's violin concertos. It shows off the "fast and light" virtuosity in much of Liszt's music, done masterfully here again by Cziffra.

- Liebestraum #3 ("Dream of Love"), one of Liszt's most popular and beautiful piano pieces, played here beautifully by Artur Rubinstein.

- "Annees de Pelerinage" ("Years of Pilgrimage"), three sets of pieces from when the composer was in Switzerland and Italy. These are really nice pieces, full of picturesque scenes. Au bord d'une source ("By the side of a spring") is one of my absolute favorites, both to play and listen to. Think of a mountain spring, beginning as a small trickle, getting progressively larger, finally into a noisy brook. Here is Au lac de Wallenstadt ("At the lake of Wallenstadt"), another piece from the same suite. You can hear the waves lapping calmly against the shore. The previous two are from his Switzerland year, and next one from his Italy year. "Apres une lecture du Dante - Fantasia Quasi Sonata" (After reading Dante) - one of Liszt's most original pieces of music, depicting Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy. Here is a performance by Alfred Brendel, parts 1 and 2, preceded by a fascinating brief introduction to the piece. Finally, in the third set of the Annees de Pelerinage, is another one of Liszt's most famous compositions, "Les Jeux d'Eaux à la Villa d'Este" (The Fountains of the Villa d'Este), a very forward-looking composition that had a strong influence on both Debussy and Ravel, the impressionists.

- Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, possibly the most famous piece Liszt ever wrote, thanks to Tom and Jerry, Looney Tunes, and many other usages of this piece in films, etc. It's one of 19 Hungarian Rhapsodies by Liszt, and is very free-form, with immediate-appeal themes and lots of dazzling virtuosity that is very fun to listen to. Here is the piece, played by Cziffra.

- Piano Concerto #1 in Eb Major, a delightfully free-spirited work, combining impressive difficult bravura passages, tender themes (in the 2nd movement especially), and light, shimmering sound effects (helped by extensive use of the triangle, pizzicato strings, high woodwinds, and upper register of the piano). It also shows Liszt's considerable skill in orchestration, something that his colleague, Chopin, lacked. Here is the piece played by Martha Argerich, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th movements.

I could really go on a lot longer than this, as there are quite a few more amazing and interesting pieces. I'll end with one of his "Transcendental Etudes", specifically, No. 8, "Wild Jagd" (Wild Hunt). This piece is near and dear to my heart, as I learned it and played it for about 2 years, in several competitions when I was in high school. Looking back, I don't think I really ever played it that well (it's tough!), but it sure was fun. I think it strongly contributed to my repetitive-stress injury when I was 17 and had to quit piano concerts for a year and re-train with the Dorothy Taubman Approach under the direction of my then new teacher, Robert Ward. Here then is the Wild Hunt, played terrifically by Claudio Arrau.

English Impressionism

Ralph Vaughn-Williams was born yesterday in 1872 in England. His music is impressionistic, although very different from the "Father" of impressionism, Debussy. I think that in all of his music there is a deep nostalgic twinge - a longing for beauty and for things to be at peace. He knew what England was like before World War I and how it was changed after, and I'm sure this had an influence on his works.

There are two works I'd like to highlight in particular. The first is Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis - this piece for strings is featured in the 2003 film, Master and Commander (one of my favorite movies). It brings me to tears when I hear it, especially thinking about where it is used in the movie. As someone has commented on the youtube posting - "This music is in sync with the action on the screen...of a sailor overboard who must be cut loose...and abandoned in the middle of the Pacific to save the 'Surprise' from sinking...as the spar to which he clings becomes a sea anchor. Both the horror and the beauty and the immensity of the act of cutting him lose into oblivion is brilliantly expressed in this music..."

Perhaps is his most famous (and for good reason) is The Lark Ascending, a piece for violin and orchestra. This piece makes me cry... hard... every time I hear it. I don't know if there exists another piece of music more clean, pure, beautiful, nostalgic, soothing, uplifting (OK, so I probably have said this about 20 other pieces this past year... but c'mon - listen to it and you'll understand!). Here is the last 7 minutes of the piece, set to scenery of rural England. The wikipedia article says - "The composition is intended to convey the lyrical and almost eternally English beauty of the scene in which a skylark rises into the heavens above some sunny down and attains such height that it becomes barely visible to those on the ground below."

Australian music of the present

Carl Vine was born on this day in Australia in 1954. I have only really heard two pieces by this composer.

Piano Sonata No. 1 (written 1990) - this was my introduction to Carl Vine. I first heard Michael Kieran Harvey (the Australian pianist to whom the work was dedicated) play it at the one and only Ivo Pogorelich International Piano Competition more than a decade ago (in Pasadena, California) and win the grand prize. It is a work that has immediate appeal for its astounding complex rhythms, ethereal sections, shimmering pianism, and fierce, raw, intense emotion. It is also extremely difficult to play - I've been working on it on and off for a couple years now, and it is probably out of my league. The 1st movement starts out slow and dark, with lots of jazz-like tone clusters. It becomes quicker-paced, moving into spell-binding rhythms and interesting tonal harmonies. Then it becomes somewhat atonal and builds into a grand, wild, tonal theme (at 3:17) and finally crashes down, but then builds a second time into the same theme (at 4:17). Again it crashes, meanders, then finds itself in a thoughtful, ethereal theme shimmering to the end.

The 2nd movement is the heart of the piece. It starts off very soft, shimmering at a lightening-quick pace, wild, chaotic, yet ordered (if that makes any sense). The perpetual motion continues, building into a loud rushing-water-like theme that climbs up and then loses steam, plunging down into a deep pool of water........ then tone clusters on the low and high ends of the piano are played slowly while a pensive theme plays in the middle register. This continues for awhile until things become more atonal and restless, furiously building back into the original theme, this time faster and louder. Then finally everything erupts, as if a volcano was bubbling and just waiting to spew (4:36). The rest of the piece is full of angry passion, relentless in its drive and pursuit. Just when you thought it couldn't get any more wild, the tempo DOUBLES (5:25) and the REALLY wild chase ensues, then lets up a little bit with low rumblings (6:32), then with a final burst of violence (7:10), the piece's energy just falls out the bottom, the original theme from the 1st movement returns, and everything fades into nothingness. What a wild piece!

Since then, I've become acquainted with one other piece by Vine, his Celebrare Celeberrime - a celebration for orchestra (written 1993). Thanks to my wife, who heard it on the radio and thought I'd like it - she was right. It sounds like there is a didgeridoo in the orchestration - how cool is that?

Classical Music Meets Jazz, in America

Today the American composer George Gershwin was born in 1898. Gershwin's music is where classical meets jazz. He started early in life as a pianist, and together with his older brother, Ira, eventually wrote many popular songs, such as "I Got Rhythm".

His first major classical work is Rhapsody in Blue, perhaps the most well-known American work of our time. Fantasia 2000 made a cartoon to go along with it, as seen/heard here (parts 1 and 2). Apparently Gerswhin told one of his biographer's the following: "It was on the train, with its steely rhythms, its rattle-ty bang, that is so often so stimulating to a composer – I frequently hear music in the very heart of the noise... And there I suddenly heard, and even saw on paper – the complete construction of the Rhapsody, from beginning to end. No new themes came to me, but I worked on the thematic material already in my mind and tried to conceive the composition as a whole. I heard it as a sort of musical kaleidoscope of America, of our vast melting pot, of our unduplicated national pep, of our blues, our metropolitan madness. By the time I reached Boston I had a definite plot of the piece, as distinguished from its actual substance."

Another one of his popular pieces, "An American in Paris" was written by him after a brief stay in Paris, where he tried to study with Nadia Boulanger, Maurice Ravel, and a few others. None of these teachers worked out. Ravel refused to teach him - he was too impressed with Gershwin's jazz style and instead suggested that Gershwin teach him. I got the following quote from wikipedia, apparently from the program notes at the premiere:

"My purpose here is to portray the impression of an American visitor in Paris as he strolls about the city and listens to various street noises and absorbs the French atmosphere." When the tone poem moves into the blues, "our American friend ... has succumbed to a spasm of homesickness." But, "nostalgia is not a fatal disease." The American visitor "once again is an alert spectator of Parisian life" and "the street noises and French atmosphere are triumphant."

Here are the first, second (The Blues), and third movements. This is classy-jazz at it's best!

Another one of my favorites, although not as well-known or loved, is his Concerto in F, a full-length, three-movement piano concerto, orchestrated completely by the composer himself (Ferde Grofe had orchestrated his Rhapsody in Blue). Here is the end of the 2nd movement and entire third movement. It gives a great taste of the bluesy 2nd movement (very moving piece), and the energetic, driving, machine-gun of a 3rd movement, which absolutely holds me spell-bound whenever I listen to it.

Let's finish with one of his most famous piano pieces - Prelude No. 2 from his 3 preludes for piano. Hope you've enjoyed this classical jazz!

Composer of Soviet Russia

Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich was born today in 1906. He is a somewhat eclectic composer, having started out by borrowing from many other styles, such as Mahler, Stravinsky, Prokofiev, Hindemith, etc., but also clearly influenced by Bach and Beethoven. When I first heard his music, I couldn't identify it. I learned to always guess that if I couldn't tell who the composer was (and it sounded late-romantic to modern), it was probably Shostakovich. His style grew and became very much his own, however, turning into one of the most popular composers of the middle-20th century.

Shostakovich stayed in Soviet Russia his whole life, and his already nervous character was not helped much by the official denunciations of the Soviet party on two occasions. He was also given awards by the Soviets at other times. His was a difficult life, trying to please, but also inwardly in turmoil about joining the party and giving into their pressure.

His music is very unique and interesting, though I am only beginning to really get into it. Here are a few pieces I have enjoyed.

Piano Concerto No. 1 (1933) - an interesting piece, also featuring a trumpet in a kind of supporting role. Here is a pretty wild excerpt of the young composer himself playing the final cadenza and finale of the last movement of the piece. Shostakovich usually played his own works very fast and apparently said once "let's play fast so the audience doesn't get bored". When asked why he would speed up, ignoring his own metronome markings, he said something like "my metronome at home doesn't work anyway, so let's just ignore those markings!"

Piano Concerto No. 2 (1957) - a very cheerful piece, more-so than most of his other works. The first movement was introduced to me when I watched Fantasia 2000 for the first time - it is played to the visual of the Steadfast Tin Soldier, and fits so well, it almost seems like the piece was written for Disney!

Piano Quintet in G minor (1940) - one of his best known and loved chamber works. I had the good fortune to perform this in college. It is a monumental work, full of intense passion, brooding introspection, tenderness, and both vulgar and lighthearted humor. It is in 5 movements. The first movement begins with the piano, building to an intense interaction between the strings, then dies down again and becomes more brisk, only to build and slow down to more intensity. It leads into the second movement, a very beautiful, introspective fugue starting with the violins, then cello, then viola, then finally piano. This is one of the most moving (and yet intellectually satisfying) pieces in the modern literature! It gets very dissonant and intense before calming down again and disappearing quietly. The third movement is all fun and games - racuous melodies, confusing rhythms, ironic and full of humor - lots of fun to play! The fourth movement is more steady, introspective, tinged with sadness and regret. It leads directly into the fifth movement as out of darkness into the light - a quietly contented, cheerful, and later, joyous and downright triumphant movement. The ending is so carefree and refreshing after all the preceding intensity. A real treasure!

It also had real impact on the people during the time it was written. Apparently the following quote is from Rostislav Dubinsky, violinist of the Borodin Quartet, out of his book, Not By Music Alone: "For a time the Quintet overshadowed even such events as the football matches between the main teams. The Quintet was discussed in trams, people tried to sing in the streets the second defiant theme of the finale. War that soon started completely changed the life of the country as well as the consciousness of the people. If previously there was the faint hope of a better life, and the hope that the 'sacrifices' of the revolution were not in vain, this hope was never to return. The Quintet remained in the consciousness of the people as the last ray of light before the future sank into a dark gloom."

Shostakovich wrote 15 symphonies as well, the first composer to have broken the "Curse of the 9", which Beethoven started more than a century before (all major symphonists after Beethoven died while writing their 10th symphony, or never got close to 10 symphonies - Schubert, Dvorak, Mahler, Brahms...) I really don't know any of them, so I'm not going to link them here. That's about all I can handle right now...

The Father of Atonality

The Austrian-Jewish composer Arnold Schoenberg was born today in 1874. Known as the "emancipator of dissonance", Schoenberg started out as a continuation of the romantic tradition of Brahms, Wagner, Richard Strauss, and Mahler, but in the early 1900's, he moved into atonality. His twelve-tone-row technique was a method that gave equal treatment to all 12 half-steps in the chromatic scale, leaving his compositions without a key signature.

His earliest important work is called "Transfigured Night", still written in a late-romantic tradition with heavy use of chromaticism (such as Wagner's Tristan and Isolde). Here is an excerpt.

A few years later, Schoenberg was to come up with his revolutionary ideas. Here is a short film documenting his ideas. Here is a short piano solo piece illustrating the result of his compositional style.

Perhaps to most of us, it is more enjoyable to listen to people talk about Schoenberg's music than to listen to the music itself. :) Furthermore, listening to people describe Schoenberg who love his music really helps one understand it better. Here's a really fascinating discussion and excerpts of a rehearsal of his piano concerto by Mitsuko Uchida, who describes the music and her love for it with great eloquence. Also, Glenn Gould and Yehudi Menuhin discuss Schoenberg and then play a piece together.

I consider myself somewhat musically educated. I can appreciate a wide variety of music, even very modern sounding stuff. I have a hard time getting excited by Schoenberg, however. Oh sure, I find some of it interesting and even fascinating (see excerpt of Uchida above). But it seems that when tonality is lost, the emotional range of the music is severely limited. Can atonal pieces express anger, rage, despair, depression, fear? Absolutely - maybe they are the best for these emotions. They may even be able to evoke a spirit of lightheartedness or humor. But can atonal music express joy, peace, contentedness, fulfillment, beauty? I am inclined to think not. I'm not saying this music has no place. Under the right conditions and at the right time, this music is appropriate (certainly would help in certain movies!). But I think going atonal has lost a large depth of what music can express...