From Sue:

It is a well-established phenomenon that the creative and performing arts frequently cross-pollinate. Poetry whispers ideas to visual artists, music gives breath to choreographers, literature prods the playwright or film-maker to realize words and movement onto the stage or large screen.

Today’s featured piece is an example of a composer translating into sound what he saw in the paintings of Francisco Goya. The ensuing piano suite was appropriately entitled, “Goyescas”*, and the composer was Enrique Granados. Granados composed the six pieces (comprising two books) in 1911 and premiered the work in 1914.

The piece that I will perform in this edition is entitled, Quejas, ó la maja y el ruiseñor (Lament, or The Maiden and the Nightingale). The music is highly evocative of the sights, sounds, and scents of a summer evening: a serenade, a lone, wistful young woman, and at the end, the nightingale—whose song briefly consoles her—and who then takes flight. The music has a very improvisatory style with a lot of melodic decoration (ornamentation) and a very free rhythmic style (rubato). One of the finest exponents of Granados’ music was the Spanish concert pianist Alicia de Larrocha (1923-2009), whose recordings I highly recommend.

*Additionally, Granados wrote a one-act opera by the same name in 1915, utilizing many melodies from his piano suite. The opera had its premiere in New York City on January 28, 1916 at the Metropolitan Opera, and the success of that opening led to an invitation, from President Woodrow Wilson, for Granados to perform at the White House. After his scheduled return to Spain was delayed, he and his wife booked passage on a French steamer Sussex. Tragically, a German U-boat torpedoed this ship, and while there were survivors, it was believed that Granados drowned while trying to save his wife, who also drowned.

From Sue:

Artistic inspiration finds its source in some composite of the creator’s inner and outer life. The latter might be fueled by social upheaval, deprivation, illness, war—even pandemics. The former might have to do with the artist’s psychological disposition, personality traits, or intellectual and spiritual pursuits.

The composer whose work is featured in this week’s edition is Robert Schumann, and the selections are two movements from what is thought to be his most autobiographical work, Kreisleriana. The “Kreisler” referred to in the name of Schumann’s piano cycle is based on a fictional character of E.T.A. Hoffmann, Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler. Schumann was an avid reader of Hoffmann, who was not only a prolific writer of essays, novels, and musical critiques, but also a composer and conductor. Moreover, the character of Kreisler seemed to mirror the psychological makeup of both Schumann and Hoffman, vacillating between impetuous madness and dreamy serenity. Schumann himself assigned names to describe these two sides of his own psyche: Florestan, the wildly impulsive side, and Eusebius, the introspective, gentle side.

In the two movements you hear today, the first and the seventh, you will hear primarily the representation of Florestan. In the midst of the first movement, there is a temporary reprieve from the dizzying mania of the outer sections, containing a very tender tune laid out almost as a slight drizzle of pitches. Movement seven is an unrelenting, passionate romp until after reaching a fevered pitch, it peters out into a chorale-like ending. You might ask—why present two such related sides of Schumann, instead of giving “Eusebius” voice to speak? Perhaps you have a bit of insight into the mind of your curator/performer this week… Hang on!

From Sue:

Of late, in many artistic spheres, there has been a deliberate effort to bring to the global audience voices that might not have been given a proper hearing in their own time. The composer whose work you will hear me play in this edition is one such voice. Florence Price, an African-American woman, was born in 1887 in Little Rock, Arkansas, and had a career as a pianist, organist, teacher, and composer, that spanned nearly fifty years.* Her biggest claim to fame, prior to this latter day reexamination of her prolific output was that she was the first African-American woman whose symphonic work was performed by a major symphony orchestra—the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

The work you will hear in this edition comes from the Sonata in E Minor for piano, which like her Symphony in E Minor, won top honors at the 1932 Rodman Wanamaker Musical Contest. The second movement of the Sonata, marked Andante, typifies Ms. Price’s hymn-like melodic writing. Her harmonic language and musical syntax are conservative—especially at a time when long strides in Western Classical style had been taken toward atonality, serialism, aleatoric music, to name a few of the trendier avant garde techniques in fashion. Her adherence to a tried and tested form—the rondo form—also hearkens back to the Classical period. The main ‘tune’ is featured three times (all in the original key), in between which there are two contrasting episodes. These, too, are woven around melodies that spin and meander at their own pace—unhurriedly, peaceful, possibly prayerful. After the last climactic statement of the original theme, there is a short ‘coda’ or last rendering of the tune fragment. One can slowly exhale.

*A thoughtful background piece on Ms. Price by music critic Alex Ross appeared in the February 5, 2018 edition of the New Yorker

**You may hear some birdsong in the distance. While I cannot claim credit for inviting the collaboration, I am delighted to have been joined by those unknown voices.

Wisdom Year Resident Jennifer Allen’s thoughtful meditation on Holy Saturday as a "pause" in which one should meditate on Jesus's experiencing death in his tomb, the last experience of the mortal God—scared, uncertain, alone, and helpless. Jennifer ties this to our experiences during this pandemic.

From Sue: “This is the ‘Aeolian Harp’ Etude (Op. 25, No. 1) by Frederic Chopin. It is perhaps ‘sunnier’ in mood than the previous two pieces I’ve sent. I have wonderful memories of this piece—even within the Cathedral. When my sister Sally and her husband Roger got married (in St. James Chapel, with Vicky Sirota officiating and Catherine Skopic as acolyte), I played this as an ‘offering’ on the Duke Ellington piano. It was a gorgeous May Saturday and altogether a beautiful occasion. Sharing this now brings back all those very special memories.”

Lorraine Simmons shares with us the importance of understanding our emotions and finding the balance between taking care of others and taking care of yourself.

Kelly and Jonah Wilson share how they are managing life in an apartment that has become a fifth grade classroom, a college classroom, and an advertising agency. Kelly also updates us on what’s happening with Radical Love Live.

For more information about Radical Love Live, visit www.radicallove.live.

Donna Devlin tells us about what she’s reading and recalls how she and her husband came to call the Cathedral their home 14 years ago.

Hubert Watson shares how the daily offices have helped him maintain a normal routine during this crisis. He also recalls the journey that brought him to the Cathedral and the “helpful hints” he was given when he first started as an usher in 1987.

A movement for our time: Sue Sobolewski plays the slow movement from Beethoven's Sonata Pathétique. From Sue: “As universally familiar as this melody seems to be, it never ceases to be a profoundly moving piece of music.”