Composers Datebook

In the spring of 1775, shots were fired at Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts, and the sparks of the American Revolution burst into flames at the Battle of Bunker Hill. Far away in Salzburg, Austria, a 19-year-old composer named Wolfgang Mozart was spending most of that year composing five violin concertos. The fifth, in A major, was completed on this day in 1775. At the time, Mozart was concertmaster of the orchestra in the court of the Archbishop of Salzburg. Archbishops don’t have their own orchestras now, but they did then — at least in Europe, if not in the American colonies.

A century and a half later, America was celebrating its sesquicentennial, and the magazine Musical America offered a prize of $3,000 for the best symphonic work on an American theme. The prize was awarded unanimously to Ernest Bloch, a Swiss-born composer who had arrived in this country only a decade before. But already, sailing into the harbor of New York, he had conceived of a large patriotic composition. Several years later, it took shape in three movements as America: An Epic Rhapsody for Orchestra.

It premiered in New York on today’s date in 1928, with simultaneous performances the next day in Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Cincinnati, San Francisco and Los Angeles. Fifteen other orchestras programmed it within a year. Curiously, although Bloch remains a highly respected composer, his America Rhapsody from 1928 is seldom performed today.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791): Violin Concerto No. 5; Jean-Jacques Kantorow, violin; Netherlands Chamber Orchestra; Leopold Hager, conductor; Denon 7504

Ernest Bloch (1880-1959): America: An Epic Rhapsody; Seattle Symphony; Gerard Schwarz, conductor; Delos 3135

The Stanley Kubrick film A Clockwork Orange opened in New York City on this date in 1971. The music was composed, and in some cases re-composed, by Wendy Carlos. As in his earlier hit, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Kubrick used classical music. This time, however, in keeping with the film’s futuristic storyline, the classics were adapted and arranged for Moog synthesizer by Wendy Carlos. The main title music, which we’re sampling, was Purcell’s Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary.

Carlos had just read the Anthony Burgess novel, A Clockwork Orange, when she saw a notice in the New York Times that Kubrick was at work filming it. She immediately airmailed Kubrick two Moog synthesizer pieces, one original and one a classical arrangement. Kubrick wrote back, inviting her to London to talk, and the rest is history.

Wendy Carlos had become an international celebrity with her earlier album Switched-On Bach, consisting of her Bach arrangements for synthesizer. It became the first classical recording ever to be certified platinum. Musical genius pianist Glenn Gould, whose own recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations was one of the biggest sellers of all time, said: “Carlos’ realization of the Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 is, to put it bluntly, the finest performance of any of the Brandenburgs — live, canned, or intuited — I’ve ever heard.”

Henry Purcell (arr. Wendy Carlos): Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary; Wendy Carlos, synthesizers Eastside; Digital 81362

J.S. Bach (arr. Wendy Carlos): Brandenburg Concerto No. 4; Wendy Carlos, synthesizers; CBS/Sony 42309

It’s strange to read the doubts Tchaikovsky expressed in letters about many of his greatest musical works, which he first would dismiss as failures, only to change his mind completely a few weeks later. Take, for example, his ballet The Nutcracker, which had its premiere performance on this day in 1892 at the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg.

Tchaikovsky described working on the ballet as a “dread-inspiring, feverish nightmare, so abominable that I don't think I have the strength to put it into words.” At the time, Tchaikovsky was much more optimistic about an opera he was writing, Yolanta, only to abruptly changed his mind, writing “Now I think that the ballet is good and the opera nothing special.” This time, Tchaikovsky got it right — although initially the opera did prove more popular than the ballet.

Another — and deliberately nightmarish — Russian composition had its first performance on this same day 70 years later. This was the Symphony No. 13 by Dmitri Shostakovich, subtitled Babi Yar, based on poems of Yevgeny Yevtushenko. This choral symphony was first heard on today’s date in 1962 at the Moscow Conservatory, but was quickly banned by the Soviet authorities. Its title poem, Babi Yar, called attention to Soviet indifference to the Holocaust and persistent anti-Semitism in Soviet society. Yevtushenko later softened these lines so the symphony could be performed in the U.S.S.R.

Peter Tchaikovsky (1840-1893): The Nutcracker Ballet; Kirov Orchestra; Valery Gergiev, conductor; Philips 462 114

Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975): Symphony No. 13 (Babi Yar); Nicola Ghiuselev, bass; Choral Arts Society of Washington; National Symphony; Mstislav Rostropovich, conductor; Erato 85529

There’s an old joke that Schubert wrote two symphonies: one unfinished, and the other endless — the reference being to Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony which lasts about 20 minutes, and his Great Symphony, which can run about an hour in performance.

It was Antonio Salieri, one of Schubert’s composition teachers in Vienna, who encouraged the young composer to date his manuscripts, so we know the Unfinished Symphony was written in 1822. It wasn't performed in public, however, until December 17th, 1865 — 43 years later. The manuscript was known to exist, but no one bothered much about it until Josef von Herbeck tracked it down and conducted its first performance in Vienna.

At its premiere, Herbeck added the last movement of Schubert’s Symphony No. 3 as a kind of makeshift finale. Many others have tried to finish the Unfinished Symphony, but more often than not, it is performed as an incomplete, yet oddly satisfying, work.

Icelandic composer Jon Leifs, who died in 1968, apparently worried that he might leave some unfinished orchestral score behind. Therefore, he composed not one but two works he titled Finale. These were intended as a kind of “musical insurance policy.” To each score, Leifs attached a note suggesting that if he died and left behind any unfinished orchestral projects, either of these two Finales could be used.

Franz Schubert (1797-1828): Symphony No. 9; Berlin Philharmonic; Karl Böhm, conductor; DG 419 318

Jón Leifs (1899-1968): Fine I and Fine II; Iceland Symphony; Petri Sakari, conductor; Chandos 9433

He was dubbed the French Beethoven, and like Ludwig van, was famous as both a composer and a pianist. Camille Saint-Saëns was born in Paris in 1835, and died on today’s date, at 86, in 1921.

The death date seems rather fitting, in a macabre sort of way, since December 16 is also the date we celebrate as Beethoven’s birthday. And imagine, if you will, the 10-year-old Saint-Saëns making his formal debut as a pianist at the Salle Pleyel in Paris, first performing a concerto by Beethoven, then, as an encore, offering to play any one of Beethoven’s 32 piano sonatas — from memory!

Saint-Saëns’ keyboard skills were legendary. An early admirer of Wagner, he once amazed that composer by playing entire scores of his operas at sight. Berlioz, another admirer, once quipped he “knows everything but lacks inexperience.”

In addition to music, Saint-Saëns was fascinated by mathematics, astronomy, and the natural sciences. As a young boy he collected fossils that he dug out himself from the stone quarries at Meudon. Maybe that experience inspired him years later to add a movement titled Fossils to his Carnival of the Animals, a chamber work he wrote as a private joke in 1886. Saint-Saëns forbade its publication during his lifetime, and probably would have been appalled that this flippant work — and not his more serious symphonies or sonatas — has become his best-known and best-loved work.

Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921) Variations on a theme of Beethoven Philippe Corre and Edouard Exerjean, pianos Pierre Verany 790041

Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921) Fossils, from Carnival of the Animals Martha Argerich, Nelson Freire, pianos; Markus Steckeler, xylophone; ensemble Philips 446557

On today’s date in 1893, Anton Seidl conducted the New York Philharmonic in the first performance of Antonín Dvořák's Symphony No. 9 (From the New World). This was an afternoon concert, meant as a public dress rehearsal for the work’s official premiere the following evening.

Among the December 15 audience was Dvořák's eight-year old son, Otakar, who had a special interest in the success of his father's new symphony. In the preceding weeks, Otakar had accompanied his father to a New York café, where Dvořák met Anton Seidl to go over the new score. Young Otakar amused himself at a nearby toyshop, where a seven-foot long model of the ocean liner Majestic was on display, complete with its own miniature steam-chamber and working propellers. It cost a whopping $45 — a huge amount of money in those days, and the answer from papa was always: NO!

Seeing that the boy’s heart was set on having the toy, Anton Seidl suggested to Otakar that he wait until after the premiere and then ask his father again. Seidl told Otakar that if all went well at the premiere, Dvořák would be in a generous mood. The premiere was a great success, and, as Otakar recalled: “When Seidl offered to pay half the cost of the Majestic, Father could not say no. So that is how the three of us celebrated the success of the first performance of the New World Symphony.”

Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904): Symphony No. 9 (From the New World); New York Philharmonic; Kurt Masur, conductor; Teldec 73244

From its founding in 1986 the Minneapolis Guitar Quartet has both commissioned new works and arranged old ones for their ensemble of four virtuoso guitarists. On today’s date in 2001, the quartet premiered a new commission: Ghetto Strings, a suite of four pieces written by Haitian-American composer Daniel Bernard Roumain.

Daniel Bernard Roumain — or DBR as he likes to be called — was born in Skokie, Illinois, but grew up in Southern Florida, surrounded by music from Latin communities — the Bahamas, Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic — as well as his own family’s Haitian music. He took up violin at 5, and says he absorbed a variety of classical and contemporary music. In junior high, he formed his own rock and hip-hop band and in high school played in a jazz orchestra which brought in guests like Dizzy Gillespie and Ray Charles. He later pursued formal musical studies with mentors William Bolcom and Michael Daugherty, earning both his masters and doctoral degrees.

The four movements of his Ghetto Strings evoke four places Roumain has called home at various points in his life: Harlem, Detroit, Liberty City in Miami and Haiti.

Daniel Bernard Roumain (b. 1970): Haiti from Ghetto Strings; Minneapolis Guitar Quartet; innova CD 858

On today’s date in 1895, Gustav Mahler conducted the Berlin Philharmonic in the first complete performance of his own Symphony No. 2.

Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 is often called the Resurrection Symphony, as the work includes a choral setting of the Resurrection Ode by 18th-century German poet Klopstock, but Mahler himself gave his symphony no such title. In a letter to his wife, Mahler confided that his Symphony No. 2 “was so much all of a piece that it can no more be explained than the world itself.”

And like the world, music is often full of surprising transitions!

American composer Paul Schoenfield quoted a dramatic passage of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 in his concerto for piccolo trumpet and orchestra, Vaudeville.

In live performances, the sudden juxtaposition of Mahler and the Brazilian tune Tico-Tico always gets a laugh — which is just what Schoenfield intended.

“I often suffer from depression, and once, when I was feeling pretty low, a friend of mind suggested I try writing something happy and upbeat to see if that would help. Vaudeville was the result. I don’t know if it helped me, but people say when they hear it, it makes them feel better. The music of other composers I respect has that effect on me, and I’m glad if Vaudeville has that effect on others,” Schoenfield said.

Gustav Mahler (1860-1911): Symphony No. 2 (Resurrection); London Symphony; Gilbert Kaplan, conductor; Conifer 51337

Paul Schoenfield (1947-2024): Vaudeville; New World Symphony; John Nelson, conductor; Argo 440 212

La Valse — one of the most popular orchestral works by Maurice Ravel — was performed for the first time this day in 1920 by the Lamoureux Orchestra in Paris, conducted by Camille Chevillard. Ravel’s score was subtitled a “choreographic poem for orchestra in the tempo of the Viennese waltz.”

La Valse is a far more Impressionistic work than any of the waltzes by the Strauss Family. It is certainly darker. Ravel said, “I had intended this work to be a kind of apotheosis of the Viennese waltz, with which was associated in my imagination an impression of a fantastic and fatal kind of Dervish’s dance.”

La Valse was written for the great ballet impresario Serge Diagalev, who apparently found it undanceable, and his failure to stage La Valse caused a serious rift in his friendship with Ravel.

Contemporary composer Judith Lang Zaimont is an unabashed Ravel enthusiast — ”Ravel’s music defines ‘gorgeous,’” she said. “It’s beguiling to the ear, and sensuous. His textures are built in thin layers, like a Napoleon pastry, and his intricate surfaces — beautifully worked-out — shine and fascinate.”

Zaimont should know. For many years she taught composition at the University of Minnesota, and her own solo piano, chamber and orchestra works are increasingly finding their way into concert halls and onto compact disc.

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937): La Valse; Boston Symphony; Charles Munch, conductor; RCA 6522

Judith Lang Zaimont (b. 1945): Symphony No. 1; Czech Radio Symphony; Leos Svarovsky, conductor; Arabesque 6742

On this day in 1952, thirty-one theaters nationwide offered the first pay-per view Met opera telecast. This was a regularly-scheduled performance of Bizet’s Carmen broadcast live from the stage of the Metropolitan Opera, featuring Risë Stevens in the title role and Fritz Reiner conducting. The performance was relayed to the theaters by means of a closed TV circuit.*

Beginning in 1948, the Metropolitan Opera had experimented with live telecasts of their opening night performances, but relatively few people in the U.S. owned TV sets at the time. By 1952, most American households had TVs, but the Met’s manager, Rudolf Bing, was dead-set against any further free telecasts. The 1952 pay-per-view experiment was not successful, and it wasn't until 1976 — after Bing had resigned — that live telecasts of Metropolitan Opera performances resumed on public television.

The most successful of all commercial telecasts of a live opera performance occurred in 1951, when, on Christmas Eve that year, NBC-TV broadcast Amahl and the Night Visitors by Gian-Carlo Menotti on Christmas. NBC’s black-and-white kinescope recording of that premiere performance was broadcast annually for a number of years — until it was accidentally erased by a network employee.** Although Amahl is no longer an annual visitor to television, it is still staged this time of year by amateur and professional opera companies around the world.

*Currently the Metropolitan Opera offers a series of live opera performances transmitted in high-definition video via satellite from Lincoln Center in New York City to select venues, primarily movie theaters, in the United States and other parts of the world. The first transmission was of a condensed English-language version of Mozart's The Magic Flute on December 30, 2006.

**One surviving copy of the original kinescope did surface in a California archive, and was shown at broadcast museums on both coasts in 2001 to celebrate the work's 50th anniversary.

Georges Bizet (1838-1875): Carmen Suite No. 1; Orchestre National de France; Seiji Ozawa, conductor; EMI 63898

Giancarlo Menotti (1911-2007): March from Amahl and the Night Visitors; New Zealand Symphony; Andrew Schenck, conductor; Koch 7005