The 2012–2013 season kicks off as we welcome the first of six candidates for OSSCS music director: Jeremy Briggs Roberts, currently music director of the Washington Idaho Symphony in Pullman. The concert opens with Stravinsky’s sparkling orchestration of a Bach organ work and continues with one of Bach’s choral masterpieces, the Magnificat. After intermission comes one of the greatest symphonies of the 20th century, the Symphony No. 10 of Dmitri Shostakovich—a work filled with hidden meanings, including a demonic scherzo that purportedly provides a musical portrait of Joseph Stalin, a secretly encoded love letter to the composer’s muse, and the Russian master’s own melodic signature (DSCH).
About the Conductor
Guest conductor Jeremy Briggs Roberts serves as music
director and conductor of the Washington Idaho Symphony
in Pullman. Prior to this appointment, he
served as associate conductor of the Philharmonisches Kammerorchester
Berlin, music director of the Icicle Creek Youth
Symphony and Summer Symphony, music director of the
University of Washington Opera, associate conductor of
the University of Washington Symphony Orchestra, and
music director of the University of Washington Baroque
Ensemble and Contemporary Group.
A member of the conducting
faculty at the 2009 Marrowstone Summer Music
Festival in Bellingham, he has led such ensembles as the
Ensemble Orchestral de Paris, Spokane Symphony, London
Soloists Chamber Orchestra, Moscow Symphony Orchestra,
Thüringen Philharmonie, Sofia Festival Orchestra and the
Bacau Philharmonic Orchestra, among others. His opera
credits include productions of Cimarosa’s Il Matrimonio Segreto,
Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites, Offenbach’s Orphée
aux Enfers, Britten’s The Turn of the Screw, Mascagni’s Cavalleria
Rusticana, Leoncavallo’s I Pagliacci, Ravel’s L’enfant et les
Sortilèges, Mozart’s Così fan Tutte, Die Zauberflöte, Le Nozze de
Figaro and Der Schauspieldirektor, Salieri’s Prima la Musica e
Poi le Parole, and Smetana’s The Bartered Bride.
Mr. Briggs Roberts was a prizewinner at the 2006
Vendôme Academy of Orchestral Conducting in Paris.
He has studied and worked closely with many of today’s
leading conductors including Peter Erös, Janos Fürst,
Gerard Schwarz, Jorma Panula, John Nelson, Gennady
Rozhdestvensky and Gianluigi Gelmetti. He received a
Bachelor of Arts degree in political science and music from
the University of Puget Sound and a Doctor of Musical Arts
degree in orchestral conducting from the University of Washington,
where he also studied piano with Craig Sheppard
and Patricia Michaelian.
About the Soloists
Soprano Catherine Haight
is well known to Seattle audiences
for her performances of Baroque music. She is an
accomplished performer of the oratorio repertoire, including
all of the major works of Handel and Bach, as well
as music by Vivaldi, Purcell, Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven,
Brahms and others. Ms. Haight has been a guest soloist
with the Pacific Northwest Ballet in their acclaimed production
of Carmina Burana, traveling with them to Australia’s
Melbourne Festival in 1995, and to the Kennedy Center in
1996. Her recordings include Mendelssohn’s Lobgesang with
Philharmonia Northwest, Orff’s Carmina Burana with Seattle
Choral Company and Handel’s Messiah with OSSCS.
Mezzo-soprano Kathryn Weld
has performed extensively
throughout the United States, Canada, Europe and Japan.
Her expertise extends from Baroque ornamentation to bel
canto opera, from Mahler song cycles to world premieres.
She has made two solo appearances with the New York Philharmonic,
under the direction of Charles Dutoit (de Falla’s
Three-Cornered Hat) and Kurt Masur (Grieg’s Peer Gynt). She
made her Carnegie Hall debut to critical acclaim in a performance
of Bach’s Mass in B Minor with Musica Sacra. The
Seattle P-I praised her performance of Alexander Nevsky with
the Seattle Symphony for “beauty of tone, a long line and a
handsome shaping of Prokofiev’s phrases.” Learn more: northwestartists.org
Mezzo-soprano Cheryse McLeod Lewis
has been praised
by the Asheville Citizen-Times for her “stunning vocal power,”
and commended by Opera News Online for her “rich lyric-mezzo
sound.” Her operatic appearances include the title role in Carmen, Hansel in Hansel and
Gretel, Rosina in Il barbiere di Siviglia, Prince Orlofsky in Die Fledermaus, and the
Jazz Singer in the
world premiere of Libby Larsen’s Picnic. Ms. Lewis also performs with the
Inspirata Quartet and has appeared as soloist with ensembles such as the Eastern Music Festival, Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra,
Greensboro Symphony and North Carolina Symphony. Recently relocated from the east
coast, she sings Handel’s Messiah with Ballet Bellevue in December. Learn more: CheryseMusic.com
Tenor James L. Brown
maintains an eclectic career as a
singer, conductor and stage director, and serves as Chair of
Vocal Studies at Pacific Lutheran University, overseeing a
large and diverse voice program. Praised by Opera News and
Early Music America, Mr. Brown has sung with New York
City Opera, Seattle Early Music Guild, Pacific Musicworks,
Aspen Opera Theater and Italy’s Spoleto Festival, working
with conductors such as James Conlon, Richard Hickox and Robert Spano. As a
concert soloist, he has appeared at Lincoln Center’s Alice
Tully Hall, Seattle’s Town Hall, Harris
Concert Hall at the Aspen Festival, the Ravinia Festival, and
the Music Academy of the West. Learn more: northwestartists.org
Baritone Charles Robert Stephens
has enjoyed a career
spanning a wide variety of roles and styles in opera and
concert music, with Opera News praising him for “committed
characterization and a voice of considerable beauty.” At
New York City Opera, he sang the role of Prof. Friedrich
Bhaer in the New York premiere of Mark Adamo’s Little
Women, and was hailed by The New York Times as a “baritone
of smooth distinction.” He has sung on numerous occasions
at Carnegie Hall in a variety of roles with Opera Orchestra
of New York, the Oratorio Society of New York, the Masterworks
Chorus and Musica Sacra, as well as with ensembles
throughout the Pacific Northwest. Learn more: seidelartistsmgmt.com
Program Notes
Johann Sebastian Bach
Igor Stravinsky
Chorale Variations on Vom Himmel hoch da komm’ ich her
Stravinsky was born June 17, 1882, in Oranienbaum (near
St. Petersburg), and died April 6, 1971, in New York City. He
began work on his setting of Bach’s BWV 769 in New York on
December 29, 1955, and completed it in Hollywood on February
2, 1956. Robert Craft conducted the premiere at the Ojai Festival,
assisted by the Pomona College Glee Club, on May 27 of that
year. Stravinsky employs pairs of flutes, oboes and bassoons (plus
English horn and contrabassoon), 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, harp,
violas, double basses and chorus.
In 1738, Lorenz Christoph Mizler, a German physician,
mathematician and amateur composer, founded the Korrespondierenden
Sozietät der Musicalischen Wissenschaften (Corresponding
Society of the Musical Sciences), an elite fraternity
limited to 20 members. Telemann joined the next year, with
Handel following in 1745. The society welcomed Johann
Sebastian Bach in 1747, three years before his death.
Bach no doubt delighted in the fact that he was the 14th
member to join the society, as the number 14 was a special
one to him. He often employed symbolism in his music, and
in the numerical alphabet equivalency prevalent at the time
(A = 1, B = 2, C = 3,
, H = 8, I = J = 9,
, S = 18,
),
B+A+C+H = 14 while J+S+BACH = 9+18+14 = 41,
an inversion of the digits in 14.
To demonstrate his mastery of the “musical sciences,”
Bach presented the society with a set of canonic variations
for organ on Vom Himmel hoch da komm’ ich her, a 1539 chorale
tune by Martin Luther with a text (derived from Luke 2) created
for a Christmas Eve festivity. Bach had made previous
use of the chorale in the original version of his Magnificat,
as well as an organ prelude (BWV 606) and some of the
cantatas that form his Christmas Oratorio.
The work, which Raymond Erickson describes as “a
compositional tour de force, a display of the most rigorous
techniques of strict canon,” consists of five variations, each
of them a canon—a musical form with two voices, in which
the second voice is displaced both horizontally (delayed by,
say, a quarter note or a full measure) and vertically (at a
specified interval, such as an octave or perfect fifth). Bach
includes the chorale tune as a cantus firmus sounding in long
notes above or below the other voices. Many scholars rank
this work among the composer’s other great contrapuntal
achievements: the Goldberg Variations, the Musical Offering
and the Art of the Fugue.
In 1955, Igor Stravinsky composed his Canticum Sacrum,
a 17-minute choral work, as the result of a commission for a
piece to be premiered at Venice’s St. Mark’s Cathedral the
following September. To extend his musical contribution
to roughly half an hour, Stravinsky turned to Bach’s Vom
Himmel hoch variations, orchestrating them for an unusual
instrumental ensemble similar to the one he employed for
Canticum Sacrum. In his 2006 memoir Down a Path of Wonder,
Robert Craft (Stravinsky’s musical assistant from 1948 until
the composer’s death) asserts that he suggested the Bach
project to Stravinsky. Craft, to whom the work is dedicated,
reports that Stravinsky deemed the result a ”recomposition”
rather than a mere orchestration or transcription.
Although Stravinsky retains all of the notes from Bach’s
original, he adds a few of his own by inserting additional
canon voices during some of the variations. Bach began
directly with the first variation, but Stravinsky opens his
version with a statement of the chorale tune in a harmonization
drawn from Bach’s Christmas Oratorio and scored for
brass. Retaining the original work’s key of C major for the
outer variations, Stravinsky creates an arch form by transposing
the second and fourth to G major and the central
variation to the remote key of D♭.
Beginning in the second variation, Stravinsky employs
a unison chorus to sing the first verse of Luther’s text to
each iteration of the cantus firmus. But preceding each choral
phrase in the second variation, he adds a rhythmically compressed
inversion (that is, faster and upside-down) of that
phrase, played by a solo trombone or trumpet.
The first two variations feature a two-part canon over
the cantus firmus; in the third variation, the two-part canon
joins an independent melody (introduced by flute, and to
which Stravinsky adds florid ornamentation) that brings
to mind the vocal line of a Bach aria. Meanwhile, Stravinsky
adds his own canon (in isolated notes played by muted
trumpet or trombone) to the cantus firmus, displaced by a
mere eighth rest and at an interval of a major seventh above
or below the chorale tune—creating striking dissonances.
In the fourth variation, Bach answers the eighth notes
of his canon’s first voice (introduced by the first trumpet)
with an “augmented” second voice (stretched out to quarter
notes, first played by bass trombone) an octave below,
with a third voice sandwiched in between. Four bars from
the end, Bach inserts his musical signature into the work,
spelling out B–A–C–H in eighth notes: B being the German
name for B♭ and H the German name for B♮ (although the
note names differ in Stravinsky’s transposed version).
For the canon voice in the final variation, Bach uses
the actual chorale tune in rhythmically compressed form
(quarter notes instead of half notes), answering it with an
inverted (that is, upside-down) second voice. Bach splits
the final movement into four sections, with the second voice
initially answering at an interval of a sixth, next a third, then
a second, and finally a ninth. Stravinsky holds the chorus
in reserve until this final segment and wraps up the work
with brilliant polyphonic brass textures.
Johann Sebastian Bach
Magnificat in D Major, BWV 243
Bach was born in Eisenach, Germany, on March 21, 1685,
and died in Leipzig on July 28, 1750. He composed the original
version of his Magnificat for use during church services on
Christmas Day 1723, revising the work sometime between 1728
and 1731. In addition to SSATB soloists and SSATB chorus, Bach
utilizes 2 flutes, 2 oboes (both doubling oboe d’amore), 3 trumpets, timpani,
strings and continuo.
In 1723, Johann Sebastian Bach took up a new post in
Leipzig, where he would reside for the rest of his life—in
spite of the often unpleasant treatment he received from city
officials, which caused him to actively seek other employment
on more than one occasion. As cantor of St. Thomas’
School and music director for the city’s four churches, his
responsibilities included producing roughly 60 cantatas a
year for weekly services and feast days. During his first
year in Leipzig, Bach composed almost 40 new cantatas and
re-worked about 20 others from among his pre-existing compositions.
In addition, he planned extra-special music for
both Christmas 1723 (a Magnificat) and Good Friday 1724
(the St. John Passion).
In Luke 1, Mary visits her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant
with John the Baptist. Upon Mary’s greeting, the child
leaps inside Elizabeth’s womb, prompting the expectant
mother to commend Mary’s faith. Mary’s response (Luke
1:46–55) in praise of the Lord forms the text of Magnificat,
to which the Doxology is appended. Churchgoers during
Bach’s time would typically sing this canticle in German
(and in plainchant), but high feast days dictated the use of
Latin, sung to fully composed music.
The original 1723 version of Bach’s Magnificat, in E♭
major, interpolated four Christmas hymns, the first of them
being Luther’s Vom Himmel hoch da komm’ ich her. A few
years later, Bach reworked the piece slightly, excising the
interpolations to allow the piece to be used on any feast day,
not just at Christmas. His other significant modification
involved transposing the work down a half-step to D major,
a highly festive key that benefits from the sound of open
strings and better suits the brilliant trumpet writing that
opens and closes the work.
In the opening movement, a jubilant orchestral ritornello
bookends a concise 45-measure choral setting of Mary’s assertion
of her faith (“My soul magnifies the Lord”). There
follows an aria for the second soprano, still in D major and
in a sprightly 3/8 meter, featuring a central minor-key episode
for a 41-note vocal run on the word “salutari.” The rejoicing
gives way to a more contemplative aria (in the somber key
of B minor) in which the first soprano sings Mary’s words
about her “low estate,” engaging in a duet with solo oboe
d’amore (pitched a minor third lower than a standard oboe).
In the last segment, the vocal line becomes simpler as Mary
predicts that future generations will consider her blessed.
Bach takes advantage of the fact that the words ”all generations”
fall at the end of the Latin phrase, using this moment
to bring back all of the voices in the choir, which initiates a
brief but thrilling fugue with a musical motive that appears
exactly 41 times. Bach repeats the first of the two words
(“omnes, omnes generationes”) so that, as Kenneth Kilfedder
has noted, each new “omnes” overlaps the preceding
“-tiones,” just as the generations overlap throughout time.
A stately bass aria in A major, accompanied by continuo
only, leads to an E-minor duet for alto and tenor in
12/8 meter against sighing phrases from flutes and muted
strings. The choir and the full force of the three trumpets
and timpani return to evoke “strength.” Bach staggers the
vocal entrances for the word “dispersit” but the choir aligns
to shout a single “superbos,” at which point the tempo suddenly
switches gears from an implied allegro to an expansive
adagio for seven of the most amazing measures not only in
this piece—but in all of Bach’s choral writing.
Solo tenor engages in a stern aria, marked by descending
phrases on the opening word “deposuit” (answered by
running sixteenth-note figures from unison violins) as the
mighty are deposed from their seats of power. Two flutes
provide a pastoral accompaniment for the alto aria that follows;
at the very end, Bach sends the flutes “away empty”
along with “the rich” by omitting their final cadence, concluding
with a single note from the continuo. Next, the
three solo female voices (parts sung by boys in Bach’s time—
the Latin word “puerum” translates literally as “boy”) create
a magical texture against which unison oboes intone
the melody of the chorale Meine Seel’ erhebt den Herren (a
German-language setting of the Magnificat text familiar to
Leipzigers of Bach’s time).
The chorus returns for a fugue in an “old-fashioned”
style (with only continuo accompaniment) employed by
Bach’s musical predecessors, perhaps in response to the
mention of “our fathers” dating back to Abraham: unlike
“Omnes generationes,” this fugue looks backward rather
than forward. The final movement opens grandly, with ascending
vocal lines rising toward the heavens in praise of
the Holy Trinity. At the words “as it was in the beginning,”
Bach reprises 23 measures of material from the opening
movement to conclude in a joyful blaze of D major.
Dmitri Shostakovich
Symphony No. 10 in E Minor, Op. 93
Shostakovich was born September 25, 1906, in St. Petersburg,
and died in Moscow on August 9, 1975. Yevgeny Mravinsky conducted
the Leningrad Philharmonic in the premiere of his tenth
symphony on December 17, 1953. Composed earlier that year,
the work calls for triple woodwinds (including 2 piccolos, English
horn, E♭ clarinet and contrabassoon), 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones,
tuba, timpani, percussion (bass drum, cymbals, military
drum, snare drum, gong, triangle, xylophone) and strings.
In 1925, 19-year-old Dmitri Shostakovich completed his
first symphony, a graduation exercise that would attract the
attention of conductor Bruno Walter and earn him acclaim
(not only in the Soviet Union but in the West as well) at
a fairly young age. Two more symphonies, both of which
included chorus, followed in 1927 and 1930; although their
musical language was far more experimental, their subject
matter (the October Revolution and May Day) helped deflect
any adverse reaction from the Soviet establishment.
Shostakovich began work on his fourth symphony in
September 1935. The following January, he was summoned
to attend a performance of his own opera Lady Macbeth of the
Mtsensk District, then enjoying a successful two-year run at
the Bolshoi Theater—Joseph Stalin was to be in attendance.
Stalin departed before the final curtain without a word to
the composer. Two days later, Pravda published an unsigned
editorial titled “Muddle Instead of Music” that lambasted
the opera and concluded with a threat that Shostakovich’s
present course “may end very badly”: Shostakovich was on
notice, but may not have entirely understood the ramifications.
Official reaction to rehearsals for his Symphony No. 4,
completed in May 1936 and scheduled for a December premiere,
resulted in Shostakovich “withdrawing” the work (it
would not be heard in public until 1961).
Shostakovich responded the following year with a fifth
symphony designed (according to an article published under
the composer’s byline prior to the work’s premiere) as
“a Soviet artist’s creative response to justified criticism”; the
music itself—modeled after Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5—
remains open to a vastly different interpretation, but nevertheless
received a magnificent response from both the public
and the establishment. A 1939 sixth symphony premiered
with less fanfare, while the seventh symphony, a massive
work of Mahlerian scale, debuted during March 1942, eliciting
enthusiastic responses both at home and throughout
the West, in part because of its subject matter (the 900-day
Nazi siege of Leningrad in which 25 million Soviet citizens
perished).
Another massive wartime symphony (the eighth) followed
in 1943; official reaction at the time was positive, if
unenthusiastic, although Soviet officials would retroactively
criticize it five years later, when Shostakovich had once
again fallen into disfavor. The prospect of a ninth symphony
brought with it much baggage—not only the challenge of
living up to other great ninths (Beethoven’s being a major
case in point), but the superstitions surrounding ninth symphonies
(Beethoven, Schubert, Bruckner and Mahler, for
example, all died before completing a Symphony No. 10)
and the official expectation that Shostakovich’s ninth would
be a suitably victorious celebration to mark the end of World
War II. Initially, Shostakovich began sketching just such a
work, scored for quadruple winds and including a massive
choir, but before long scrapped that approach, producing “a
merry little piece” (to be performed by Orchestra Seattle on
February 9) that, upon its November 1945 premiere, earned
him only scorn from the Soviet hierarchy.
Thus Shostakovich retreated, and over the next eight
years most of the music he presented for public consumption
was of the sort (film scores, patriotic choral works) that
would attract little official chastisement. Stalin’s death, on
March 5, 1953, helped Shostakovich feel somewhat safer
(although far from completely safe) in sharing his more personal
music with the public, and within a few weeks he
began work on his Symphony No. 10, finishing it well in
advance of its December premiere.
The work’s lengthy opening movement begins with
cellos and basses playing E–F♯–G—D♯–F♯–A (the first three
tones of a minor scale, followed by a diminished triad). Out
of these notes, Shostakovich develops the material that occupies
the opening “paragraphs” of his symphony, until
solo clarinet introduces a melody that Klaus George Roy
later identified as a paraphrase of a theme from the fourth
movement of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 (“Resurrection”).
The meaning of this near-quotation is unclear: perhaps it
was inadvertent, perhaps Shostakovich viewed this work
as his own resurrection symphony (with new possibilities
in the wind after Stalin’s death), or maybe the composer
had in mind the lyrics Mahler set to this music (“Man lies in
direst need! Man lies in direst pain!”). This second section
builds to the work’s first loud climax before returning to
solo clarinet. Suddenly, the pace quickens and solo flute
states a nervous waltz-like theme that receives subsequent
treatment from the strings and other solo woodwinds. Solo
bassoon picks up the Mahler theme, while the second bassoon
and contrabassoon answer with variants of the movement’s
opening motive. This leads to an increasingly furious
development of material from all three major themes, eventually
subsiding into a clarinet duet that initiates a coda
by singing variants of the Mahler and waltz themes. The
movement concludes quietly with a pair of piccolos—and
finally just one—over hushed accompaniment from strings
and timpani, during which cellos and basses utter one final
statement of the opening motive, here transposed to C
minor: C–D–E♭—B♮–D–F.
The second movement explodes onto the scene with
two savage string chords, followed immediately by three
notes that should sound familiar (the first three tones of a D♭-minor scale,
that is, C–D–E♭ raised a semitone). The scherzo,
which according to Testimony (a controversial 1979 book that
claimed to be the memoirs of Shostakovich) serves as a musical
portrait of Stalin, is unrelenting in its fury—and with
its relative brevity provides further contrast to the lengthy
opening movement.
The third movement, in 3/4 time, opens with a much
more relaxed demeanor as violins present a theme that begins
with four now-familiar notes (C–D–E♭—B♮). Flutes
introduce a second subject characterized by a rhythm (two
eighth notes followed by a long half note) that mirrors the
spoken word “Mityenka”—a diminutive form of “Dmitri”
and Shostakovich’s childhood nickname—followed by the notes
D–E♭–C–B♮: those same four notes again, now in a different order.
Here for the first time we have the composer’s musical
signature, derived from the German transliteration of
his name (Dimitri Schostakowitch) and the German names
for E♭ (“Es”) and B♮ (“H”), much as Bach did with his
own name two centuries prior. This DSCH motive pervades
the rest of the work and would play important roles
in other Shostakovich compositions (including the at-this-point-unperformed
second violin concerto and the subsequent String Quartet No. 8).
After solo bassoon reprises the
opening violin theme, solo horn announces another motive
(E–A–E–D–A), which appears a total of 12 times through
the remainder of the movement. For nearly four decades
the meaning of these notes remained a mystery, until Elmira
Nazirova, an Azerbaijani pianist and composer who had
studied with Shostakovich during the late 1940s, revealed
that while working on his tenth symphony, Shostakovich
began a correspondence with her, calling her his muse and
explaining that he had included her in the work. Replacing
the three central notes with their solfeggio equivalents (La,
Mi, Re), the horn solo becomes EL(a)MiR(e)A, or ELMIRA.
The final movement begins quietly in low strings, leading
to an exotic oboe solo, answered by statements from
flute and bassoon, each of which is interrupted by clarinet,
which eventually succeeds in launching the strings
in a scurrying allegro. A playful mood persists, hinting at
a Tchaikovsky-esque rondo finale for the duration of the
symphony, until elements of the scherzo intrude, leading
to a triple-forte blast of DSCH. Suddenly, all is quiet: DSCH
hovers in the background, alternating with woodwinds that
take up the oboe melody from the movement’s opening bars,
until a jaunty bassoon solo once again lightens the mood
and Shostakovich reprises some of the earlier rondo material.
In the coda, the timpani repeatedly pound out DSCH,
but the rest of the orchestra—and the key of E major—wins
the battle.
—Jeff Eldridge