Composers Datebook

Today, a tip of the hat to the persistence of Elisa Hall, who lived in Boston from 1853 to 1924.

Hall was a Francophile and championed the best and the latest in French music. Sadly, she suffered from a hearing ailment, which would eventually result in complete deafness. At the advice of her doctor, who thought it might stimulate her ears, she took up the saxophone — and with typical enthusiasm soon began commissioning the leading French composers of the day for new pieces for her instrument.

In all, she commissioned 22 works, the most famous being by Claude Debussy. He at first refused Hall’s persistent offers of a commission, pleading the saxophone was “a reed animal with whose habits he was poorly acquainted.”

Debussy was paid in advance, but it was years before delivered a short rhapsody in a vaguely Moorish style. In May of 1919, one year after his death, the orchestration of the piece was completed by his friend, Jean Roger-Ducasse, and premiered in Paris.

Hall apparently never performed it herself. Maybe she was exasperated by the long delay or perhaps, by 1919, her own hearing had deteriorated to the point where she no longer could.

Claude Debussy (1862-1918): Rhapsody for Saxophone and Orchestra; Kenneth Radnofsky, alto saxophone; New York Philharmonic; Kurt Masur, conductor; Teldec 13133

Today we have a letter to read, written by Mozart in the middle of May in the year 1778. Mozart was in Paris, 22 years old, and had this to say to his father back in Salzburg:

“I think I told you in my last letter, that the Duc de Guines plays the flute extremely well, and that his daughter is my pupil in composition. She also plays the harp magnifique. She has a great deal of talent, even genius, and in particular a marvelous memory so that she can play all her pieces, actually about 200, by heart. It is, however, extremely doubtful as to whether she has any talent for composition, especially as regards invention or ideas.”

The Duc de Guines was the former French ambassador to London and believed by Mozart’s father to be in the inner circle of the French Queen Marie Antoinette, and hence a contact well worth cultivating. De Guines commissioned Mozart to write a double concerto for himself on flute and daughter on harp. Mozart complied with a courtly Concerto in C Major. Four months after delivering the music, Mozart had to report to his father that he still hadn't seen any payment for his efforts!

W.A. Mozart (1756-1791): Concerto for Flute and Harp; Emmanuel Pahud, flute; Marie-Pierre Langlamet, harp; Berlin Philharmonic; Claudio Abbado, conductor; EMI 57128

If you Google “Verdi” and “Royal Albert Hall,” you’ll probably be directed to a fine Italian restaurant named after the famous Italian opera composer that is located in that famous British concert venue, but back in 1875 the combination of Verdi and the Royal Albert Hall meant not a hot meal — but a hot ticket — for Londoners.

On today’s date that year a chorus of over 1000 and an orchestra of 150 assembled at Royal Albert Hall to give the U.K. premiere of Verdi’s Requiem Mass, a brand-new sacred work to be conducted by the composer himself.

Verdi’s “Requiem” had received its world premiere performance almost exactly one year earlier — on May 22, 1874 to be exact — at the Church of San Marco in Milan, a performance also conducted by the composer. Although it was premiered in a church, just three days later Verdi brought his Requiem to Milan’s La Scala opera house and cast the lead singers from his latest opera Aida as its four vocal soloists.

Commentators ever since have noted shared musical similarities of mood, color, and drama in these two works, and quipped Verdi’s “Requiem” might just be his greatest opera.

Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901): “Sanctus” from Requiem; Monteverdi Choir; Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique; John Eliot Gardner, conductor; Decca 441142

Today marks the birthday of one of the most prolific 19th century women composers. Emilie Luise Friderica Mayer was born May 14, 1812 in the German town of Friedland, the third of five children and the eldest daughter of a well-to-do pharmacist. No one else in her family was musically inclined, but after the death of her father when she was 28, a comfortable inheritance enabled her to devote the rest of her life to music and composition.

Despite the barriers to women as composers in her time, Mayer wrote and published orchestral and chamber works — including eight symphonies over a dozen concert overtures — and starting in the 1840s through to the time of her death in 1883, got them performed in Berlin, Cologne, Munich, Lyon, Brussels and Vienna.

Her early works are very much in the classical Viennese tradition of Beethoven, but as the decades passed, her style became much more in the high Romantic style. For most of the 20th century her works remained largely forgotten, but a 21st century reappraisal has resulted in new interest, recordings and performances of the symphonies and overtures of Emilie Mayer.

Emilie Mayer (1812-1883): Symphony No. 4; New Brandenburg Philharmonie; Stefan Malzew, conductor; Capriccio 5339

On today’s date in 1875, American conductor Theodore Thomas, a passionate advocate for both old and new music, led the Cincinnati May Festival in the first American performance of J.S. Bach’s Magnificat.

Bach composed this work in 1723, originally for Christmas use in Leipzig, then revised the score in 1733. The American premiere, 142 years after that, was also revised, since the original instrumentation was expanded for large 19th century orchestra and Bach probably would have been astonished at the size of the Cincinnati chorus.

Bach’s Magnificat served as the opener for a Festival performance of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9. The Beethoven was a huge success, and Cincinnati newspapers reported that “Ninth Symphomania” was breaking out in their city.

The newspapers were less impressed with Bach’s Magnificat. The Cincinnati Commercial Review opined: “The work is difficult in the extreme … most of the chorus abounds with rambling sub-divisions. We considering the Magnificat the weakest thing the chorus has undertaken … possessing no dramatic character and incapable of conveying the magnitude of the labor that has been expended upon its inconsequential intricacies.”

Well, whatever they thought in 1875, we suspect American audiences and performers have a gotten a little more used to Bach’s “inconsequential intricacies” since then.

J.S. Bach (1685-1750): Magnificat

On this date in 1926, 19-year old composer and sometime silent film piano accompanist Dimitri Shostakovich saw his Symphony No. 1 performed by the Leningrad Philharmonic.

It must have been a heady experience for the young composer, who for the past two years had earned a living of sorts accompanying silent films at various Leningrad cinemas.

One evening, while accompanying the film Swamp and Water Birds of Sweden, he was so carried away by his own improvisations of bird song that he assumed the catcalls and noisy expressions of disapproval from the audience were directed at the film, not at him. Only afterwards was he told the audience had assumed he must have been drunk. In later years, Shostakovich would tell this story with some pride — at least they had noticed his music!

The Leningrad Philharmonic’s performance of his symphony, the first of his orchestral works to be performed in public, was a triumph and established Shostakovich as a major new talent.

May 12 was a date Shostakovich would commemorate till the end of his life — if for no other reason than he would never again have to improvise piano accompaniment to cinematic masterworks like Swamp and Water Birds of Sweden.

Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975): Symphony No. 1; Cracow Philharmonic; Gilbert Levine, conductor; Arabesque 6610

Although contemporaries, Gustav Mahler and Richard Strauss were two very different human beings. Mahler was tormented by self-doubt and existential angst; Strauss was a placid soul, self-confident to the point of complacency. Still, Mahler and Strauss admired and conducted each other’s music, and their odd friendship is reflected in their published correspondence.

On today’s date in 1911, for example, on learning Mahler had been ill, but was recovering, Strauss wrote a gracious letter to his fellow composer-conductor:

“I learn with great pleasure that you are recovering from your long illness. Perhaps it might be a happy diversion for you during the melancholy hours of convalescence to know I plan to perform your Symphony No. 3 with the Royal Orchestra in Berlin next winter. It is an excellent orchestra. If you would like to conduct yourself, it would be my pleasure to hear your lovely work again under your own direction — much as I would like to conduct it myself. I would be glad to rehearse the orchestra for you, so you would have no trouble and only the pleasure of conducting.”

Sadly, Strauss was poorly-informed about Mahler’s recovery and the gravity of his illness. Mahler died seven days after Strauss penned the letter.

Gustav Mahler (1860-1911): Symphony No. 3; London Symphony Orchestra; Jascha Horenstein, conductor; Unicorn 2006-7

Australian composer Barrington Pheloung’s music might not be familiar to concertgoers, but if you watch public television’s Mystery series, you’ve probably heard a lot of his work.

He composed music for the British Inspector Morse TV series, chronicling the cases of a Thames Valley police inspector and his loyal assistant, Robbie Lewis, and once explained how he came up with the haunting Inspector Morse theme:

“Morse is a very melancholic character ... and he was a lover of classical music ... He has a very cryptic mind and loves doing crosswords; we came up with the obvious idea — his name is Morse and so we used Morse code in the [theme] music.” He said the tapped code for M-O-R-S-E created a rhythm and even suggested a harmonic structure: “I picked up my guitar and there was the tune.”

Pheloung was born on today’s date in 1954 in Sydney, Australia, played drums and guitar as a kid, discovered Bach as a teen, and ended up earning a scholarship to the Royal College of Music in London. He composed music for dance, films and TV, including Lewis, the sequel to the successful Inspector Morse series.

Barrington Pheloung (1954-2019): Theme from Inspector Morse; The City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra; James Fitzpatrick, conductor; Silva Screen Records 4729

On today’s date in 1911, the Independent Music Society of Paris sponsored an anonymous concert at which the audience was invited to guess the composers of a number of pieces presented without attribution.

Professional music critics were also in attendance, although they prudently refused to reveal their guesses, fearing their professional reputations might suffer as a result. In the audience was the French composer Maurice Ravel, who had agreed to let some of his new piano pieces be performed as part of the experiment.

“The title Valses nobles et Sentimentales is a sufficient indication that my intention was to compose a chain of waltzes following the example of Schubert,” Ravel wrote. “They were performed for the first time, amidst protests and booing, at this concert.”

Even more droll, he recalled, were the reactions of some his most ardent admirers, who didn't know any of his own music would be played. They jeered at his waltzes, calling them “ridiculous” and ventured the guess the composer must be either Satie or Kodaly. Ravel accepted their comments in stoic silence.

The audience proved more astute than Ravel’s friends, however. “The paternity of the waltzes was correctly attributed to me, but by a weak majority,” he recalled.

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937): Valses Nobles et Sentimentales; Minnesota Orchestra; Stanislaw Skrowaczewski, conductor; Analogue 007

On today’s date in 1938, a musical soirée was held at Dumbarton Oaks, a magnificent house on the crest of a wooded valley in Washington, D.C. This was the home of Robert and Mildred Bliss.

Robert had retired from a distinguished career in the U.S. Foreign Service, which included a posting in St. Petersburg in 1907, around the same time a young Russian composer name Igor Stravinsky was getting some of his first public performances there.

The Blisses commissioned Stravinsky to write a chamber work to be premiered at their 30th wedding anniversary, a work now known as the Dumbarton Oaks Concerto.

“A little concerto in the style of the Brandenburg Concertos,” was how Stravinsky put it, adding, “I played Bach very regularly during the composition of the concerto, and I was greatly attracted to the Brandenburg Concertos. Whether or not the first theme of my first movement is a conscious borrowing from the third of the Brandenburg set, however, I do not know. What I can say is that Bach would most certainly have been delighted to loan it to me; to borrow in this way was exactly the sort of thing he liked to do.”

Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971): Dumbarton Oaks Concerto