Composers Datebook

In January of 1939, famous jazz clarinetist Benny Goodman was playing each night at New York’s Paramount Theater. On today’s date that year, he also appeared on the stage of Carnegie Hall.

The occasion was the American premiere of a new chamber trio by the Hungarian composer Bela Bartok, commissioned by Goodman at the suggestion of Bartok’s compatriot, violinist Joseph Sizgeti. The work was billed as a two-movement “Rhapsody” for clarinet, violin and piano.

Now, in 1939 Goodman was at the peak of his popularity with the swing-crazed youth of America, and the New York Times music critic felt the need to write: “There is no indication that Bartok wrote the clarinet part for Benny’s clarinet, so jitterbugs reading this review have been simply wasting their time. The work is as Hungarian as goulash, and Mr. Goodman was artist enough to restrain himself from any insinuation of swing. Indeed, considering that he had probably left the stage of the Paramount Theatre some minutes before he appeared on that of Carnegie Hall, the purity of his style and the bright neatness of his technique were particularly admirable.”

The following year, Goodman and Szigeti recorded the trio with Bartok himself at the piano. For that occasion, Bartok added a third movement, and the resulting work was re-titled Contrasts.

Béla Bartók (1881-1945): Contrasts; Benny Goodman, clarinet; Joseph Szigeti, violin; Bela Bartok, piano; CBS/SONY 42227

If the late 18th century is the Classical Age, and the 19th The Romantic, then perhaps we should dub our time “The Eclectic Age” of music. These days, composers can — and do — pick and choose from a wide variety of styles.

American composer William Bolcom was loath to rule anything out when he approached the task of setting William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and of Experience to music. Bolcom calls for a large orchestra, multiple choruses, and more than a dozen vocal soloists versed in classical, pop, folk, country, and operatic styles. There are echoes of jazz, reggae, gospel, ragtime, country and rock idioms as well.

As Bolcom put it: “At every point Blake used his whole culture, past and present, high-flown and vernacular, as sources for his many poetic styles. All I did was use the same stylistic point of departure Blake did in my musical settings.”

The massive work received its premiere performance in Stuttgart, Germany, on today’s date in 1984.

Most of the work was completed between 1973 and 1982, after Bolcom joined the faculty of the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and it was there that the work received its American premiere a few months following its world premiere in Germany.

William Bolcom (b. 1938): Songs of Innocence and of Experience Soloists; Choirs; University of Michigan School of Music Symphony; Leonard Slatkin, conductor; Naxos 8.559216/18

In 1935 Aaron Copland finished a new orchestral work that was to be premiered by the Minneapolis Symphony and its young conductor Eugene Ormandy.

The work, Statements for Orchestra, consisted of six short movements, each with a descriptive title, namely: Militant, Cryptic, Dogmatic, Subjective, Jingo and Prophetic. The Jingo movement alludes to the popular tune Sidewalks of New York — where Copland completed the orchestration of his new score.

The last two movements were premiered by the Minneapolis Symphony early in 1936, first on an NBC radio broadcast, then on one of the orchestra’s subscription concerts. The conductor, however, was not Ormandy but rather Dimitri Mitropoulos, who would become the Music Director of the Minneapolis Symphony the following year. And it was Mitropoulos who would lead the first complete performance of all six of Copland’s Statements on today’s date in 1942 during a concert by the New York Philharmonic.

The new piece got good reviews, and Copland quoted with pride one given by his friend and colleague Virgil Thomson, which called the music “succinct and stylish, cleverly written and very, very personal.”

Much to his surprise this music never really caught on with orchestras or audiences. “To my disappointment, Statements remains one of my lesser-known scores,” Copland wrote.

Aaron Copland (1900-1990): Statements; London Symphony; Aaron Copland, conductor; Sony 47232

American composer Ned Rorem liked to classify music as being either French or German — by “French,” he meant music that is sensuous, economical and unabashedly superficial; by “German,” he meant music that strives to be brainy, complex and impenetrably deep.

On today’s date the Boston Symphony gave the premiere performances of two important 20th century piano concertos.

The first, by Francis Poulenc, had its premiere under the baton of Charles Munch in 1950, with the composer at the piano. Poulenc’s concerto is a light, entertaining with no pretension to profundity. It is quintessentially “French” according to Rorem’s classification.

The second Piano Concerto, by American composer Elliott Carter, had its Boston premiere in 1967, conducted by Erich Leinsdorf, with soloist Jacob Lateiner. The concerto was written in Berlin in the mid-1960s when the Wall dividing that city was still new. He said he composed it in a studio near an American target range, and one commentator hears the sounds of machine guns in the work’s second movement. Carter compared woodwind solos in the same movement to the advice given by three friends of the long-suffering Job in the Bible.

Needless to say, Rorem would emphatically classify Carter’s concerto as “German” to the max!

Francis Poulenc (1899-1963): Piano Concerto; Pascal Roge, piano; Philharmonia Orchestra; Charles Dutoit, conductor; London 436 546

Elliott Carter (1908-2012): Piano Concerto; Ursula Oppens, piano; SWF Symphony; Michael Gielen, conductor; Arte Nova 27773

On today’s date in 1932, Maurice Ravel’s Concerto for Piano Left Hand received its public premiere in Vienna. It was one of several concertos for piano left hand commissioned by Paul Wittgenstein, a wealthy Austrian pianist who lost his right arm during World War I. He also commissioned concertos from Richard Strauss, Prokofiev, Korngold, and Britten.

In the fall of 1931, Ravel presented Wittgenstein with the score of his new concerto, and together they gave it a private read-through with Ravel playing the orchestra part on one piano, and Wittgenstein the solo part on another. At first he was not impressed and offended Ravel by suggesting a few changes, which Ravel flatly refused to make. “Only after I had studied the concerto carefully did I realize what a great work it was,” he said. Wittgenstein performed the premiere with the Vienna Symphony led by Robert Heger.

A few days later, on January 14th that same year, Ravel himself conducted the premiere of his other piano concerto, this one written for the two hands of French pianist Marguerite Long. In stark contrast to the brooding Concerto for Wittgenstein, the Concerto for Long is light-hearted, with a blues-y slow movement inspired by the Harlem jazz sampled by Ravel during a visit to New York in 1928.

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937): Piano Concerto for the Left Hand; Leon Fleisher, piano; Baltimore Symphony; Sergui Commissiona, conductor; Philips 456 775

Piano Concerto in G Krystian Zimerman, piano; Cleveland Orchestra; Pierre Boulez, conductor; DG 449 213

On today’s date in 1961, the New York City Ballet presented a new work scored by 35-year old composer Gunther Schuller, who was conducting the pit orchestra. On stage, in the middle of the green- and purple-garbed dancers, were four additional musicians: namely, the Modern Jazz Quartet, decked out in their usual white ties and tails. Schuller’s score, Variants, was an attempt to fuse modern music and jazz into a style he labeled “Third Stream.”

”I had this idea of the First and Second streams [classical and jazz] getting married and giving birth to a child, which is the Third stream,” recalled Schuller years later, ruefully noting that today one would have to call it the “10,000th stream” as composers have since introduced a multitude of ethnic, folk and vernacular music into the mix as well.

But back in 1961, the idea attracted a lot of press — not all favorable. The New Yorker, for example, thought it odd that the MJQ “sat like a quartet of hunters in a duck blind, anxiously shooting out carefully calculated notes.”

Time magazine wrote: “Schuller’s score was the essence of the cool — spare, fragmentary, but resembling jazz only in its rhythmic drive.” If this was the Third Stream, the reviewer concluded, “it never seemed to be flowing anywhere.”

Gunther Schuller (1925-2015): Conversation; Modern Jazz Quartet and ensemble; Gunther Schuller, conductor; Wounded Bird 1345

In Austrian culture there is a theatrical tradition that pokes fun at anything somber and serious. Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute taps into this in the person of Papageno, and in the 19th century the Austrian actor Johann Nestroy deflated pomposity in his satirical plays, including one wicked sendup of Wagner’s opera Tannhauser.

In our own time, this tradition is alive and well — and even Mozart is not immune. How else do you explain the 1991 Austrian film, Bring Me the Head of Amadeus! — a work ostensibly released in honor of the 200th anniversary of the composer’s death?

That film’s soundtrack was written by a musical jack-of-all-trades named H.K. Gruber, who was born in Vienna on today’s date in 1943. Gruber has composed what might be called “normal” concertos and such but is best known for “abnormal” works, including Frankenstein!!, a piece he describes as a “pandemonium” for voice and chamber ensemble.

Frankenstein!! is a musical setting of some very macabre poems by a fellow Austrian named H.C. Artmann. Oddly enough, its bizarre Viennese humor translates well with audiences worldwide. As Gruber put it: “The poems evokes in each culture a unique set of metaphors and associations. The gloomy Russian temperament, for example, seems to find our Frankenstein!! particularly amusing!”

H.K. Gruber (b. 1943): Three Mob Pieces; London Mob Ensemble; H.K. Gruber EMI 56441

H.K. Gruber (b. 1943) Frankenstein!! H.K. Gruber, vocals; Salzburg Camerata; Franz Welser-Most, conductor; EMI 56441

In 1885, 20-year old violinist Franz Kneisel came to America to become concertmaster of the Boston Symphony. That same year he formed the Kneisel Quartet, the first professional string quartet in America. For the next 30 years, their concerts were major musical events.

On today’s date in 1894, this review of a Kneisel Quartet performance appeared in the Boston Globe:

“It was one of the most interesting concerts ever given in Chickering Hall. First on the program was the Dvořák Quartet in F Major, which has never before been played in public. It was given a private performance in New York recently, and the composer was so pleased with the playing of the Kneisels that he gave them the manuscript which they used last night. This composition was written last summer and … the melodious parts strongly recall the type of music that the composer says he had in mind when he wrote the quartet … [The performance] was exceptionally good, and the listeners were stirred to a high pitch of enthusiasm. It is safe to say that the Dvořák quartet is a success.”

Not a bad “morning after” review for the premiere of Dvorák’s famous American String Quartet.

Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904): String Quartet No. 12 (American); Keller Quartet; Warner 44355

Okay, raise your hand if you have ever stayed up til midnight to attend the premiere showing of a new film — extra points if you attended in costume as a Hogwarts student! Well, opera fans are no slouches, either. On December 31, 1913, Wagner fanatics arrived at the opera house in Budapest in time to attend a performance of Wagner’s five-hour opera Parsifal that began at one minute after midnight!

January 1, 1914 was the date on which the official copyright protection for Wagner’s last opera ran out. Before then, staged performances of Parsifal were forbidden to take place anywhere else than Wagner’s own festival theater in Bayreuth, Germany.

Parsifal had premiered there in 1882, but since international copyright laws proved unenforceable in many countries, some opera companies just ignored them. The Met in New York, for example, extensively renovated its stage machinery for the sole purpose of staging Parsifal on Christmas Eve in 1903, and there were also pirated pre-1914 performances in Canada, the Netherlands, Monaco, and Switzerland.

One interesting note about that midnight Parsifal in Budapest — the conductor was 25-year-old musical wizard Fritz Reiner, who would eventually be waving his wand — okay, his baton — to lead the Chicago Symphony.

Richard Wagner (1813-1883): Parsifal excerpts; Welsh National Opera Chorus and Orchestra; Reginald Goodall, conductor; EMI 65665

On New Year’s Eve, 1948, Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra gave the first performance of the Symphony No. 5 by the American composer George Antheil. Now, in his youth, Antheil was something of a wild man, composing a Ballet Mechanicque for a percussion ensemble that included electric bells, sirens and airplane propellers. It earned him a reputation, and Antheil titled his colorful 1945 autobiography what many called him: The Bad Boy of Music.

But the great Depression and World War II changed Antheil’s attitude. Rather than write for small, avant-garde audiences, Antheil found work in Hollywood, with enough time left over for an occasional concert work, such as his Symphony No. 5. In program notes for the premiere, Antheil wrote: “The object of my creative work is to disassociate myself from the passé modern schools and create a music for myself and those around me which has no fear of developed melody, tonality, or understandable forms.“

Contemporary critics were not impressed. One called Antheil’s new Symphony “nothing more than motion-picture music of a very common brand” and another lamented its “triviality and lack of originality,” suggesting it sounded like warmed-over Prokofiev. The year 2000 marked the centennial of Antheil’s birth, and only now, after years of neglect, both Antheil’s radical scores from the 1920s and his more conservative work from the 1940s is being performed, recorded and re-appraised.

George Antheil (1900-1959): Symphony No. 5 (Joyous); Frankfurt Radio Symphony; Hugh Wolff, conductor; CPO 999 706