Composers Datebook

On this date in 1973, Eugene Ormandy conducted the Philadelphia Orchestra in music by Mozart, Brahms and American composer, Roy Harris. The program was nothing out of the ordinary, but the concert took place in Beijing and marked the first time an American orchestra had performed in Communist China. The orchestra was invited to China following the famous visit of President and Mrs. Nixon and secretary of state Henry Kissinger.

In the audience for one of these historic concerts was a young student of traditional Chinese music, Tan Dun. When he heard the Philadelphians perform Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, a work he had never heard before, he decided then and there to become a composer. In 1986, he came to New York City, and since then has managed to combine elements of East and West into his own musical works.

In 1987, for example, he composed a violin concerto Out of Peking Opera, which draws on both Chinese and European traditions. In addition to prestigious awards and commissions from major foundations and orchestras, in March of 2001, Dun won an Oscar for his film score to the Ang Lee film, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): Symphony No. 5; Royal Philharmonic; René Leibowitz, conductor; Chesky 17

Tan Dun (b. 1957): Out of Peking Opera; Cho-Liang Lin, violin; Helsinki Philharmonic; Muhai Tang, conductor; Ondine 864

On today’s date in 1967, Aaron Copland’s final orchestra work, Inscape, was premiered by Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.

Copland said the work’s title, Inscape, was borrowed from 19th-century English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins. Its compositional technique was borrowed from the serial or 12-tone models of Arnold Schoenberg and the some of the late works of one of his favorite composers, Igor Stravinsky. Bernstein was no great fan of 12-tone music, but he exclaimed following the premiere, “Aaron, it’s amazing how, even when you compose in a completely foreign idiom, the music still comes out sounding like you!”

Beyond the technical challenge involved, Inscapes, said Copland, reflected what he called “the tenseness of the times in which we live.”

His experiments with 12-tone pieces like Inscape didn’t impress the avant-garde composers of the day, and only baffled audiences who expected him to produce more works in the style of his popular ballet scores of the 1930s and 40s.

By 1970, he stopped composing altogether, and claimed not to miss it very much. “I must have expressed myself sufficiently,” he said.

Aaron Copland (1900-1990): Inscape; New York Philharmonic; Leonard Bernstein, conductor; Sony 47236

For decades many of the 20th century’s greatest composers routinely visited Venice’s famous canals and churches during a biennial music festival that showcased brand-new works by the likes of Stravinsky, Prokofiev, Britten and others.

French composer Darius Milhaud describes sharing space with several of his composer-colleagues in a cramped Festival “green room.” “It was a normal sight to see Stravinsky’s rain-coat and Constant Lambert’s tweed overcoat hanging near my two walking sticks,” he wrote. “Meanwhile, Italian composer Hildebrando Pizetti would be putting up a mirror, opening a silver toilet-case, and arranging flowers, his wife’s photograph and a sheaf of telegrams.”

On today’s date in 1937, he conducted the first performance of his Suite Provencale at the Venice Festival. This jaunty score proved to be one of his most popular orchestral works. In 1954, it was Leonard Bernstein’s turn. In Venice on today’s date that year, he conducted the premiere performance of his Serenade for violin and orchestra, with Isaac Stern the featured soloist.

Despite its admirable track record for picking winners, the Venice Festival shut down operations in 1973, although its impact lives on in the number of modern masterworks it helped launch in its day.

Darius Milhaud (1892-1974): Suite Provençale; Detroit Symphony; Neeme Järvi, conductor; Chandos 7031

Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990): Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium); Zino Francescatti, violin; NY Philharmonic; Leonard Bernstein, conductor; Sony 60559

In 1886, a Czech patron of the arts, Josef Hlavka, had a chapel built at his summer residence at Lužany in Bohemia and asked his composer friend Antonín Dvořák to write a mass to dedicate it.

As a devout Catholic, Dvořák was happy to oblige. Since the chapel was quite small, he wrote his Mass in D Major for just a quartet of soloists, a small choir, and organ, and led the premiere performance there on today’s date in 1887, with his wife Anna singing one of the solo roles.

He told Hlavka he was grateful for the chance to write so intimate a piece. “Until now, I had only written sacred works of larger proportions with considerable vocal and instrumental means at my disposal,” he wrote.

Ironically, Dvořák’s intimate Lužany Mass became popular as just such a large-scale work. At the request of his publisher, he orchestrated his Mass, and in that form it received its international premiere in 1893 at the immense Crystal Palace in London, performed by a huge chorus and a large symphony orchestra.

The published orchestrated version became extremely popular during his lifetime, but his small-scale original version was not even published until 1963.

Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904): Mass in D; Christ Church Cathedral Choir; Nicholas Cleobury; Simon Preston, conductor; London/Decca 448 089-2

American composer Henry Cowell lived from 1897 to 1965 and wrote thousands of musical works in a wide variety of styles. As a young boy, he lived near San Francisco’s Chinatown, so Asian influences are as likely to crop up in his music as European models. And among his aggressively experimental works are piano pieces that employ what he called “tone clusters” — chords played with a fist or forearm. Those pieces piqued the interest of European composers like Béla Bartók and Leoš Janáček, but in addition to avant-garde scores, he wrote dozens of conventionally tonal works, often hauntingly beautiful.

In 1941, he discovered Southern Harmony, a collection of evocative 19th century American hymns. These reminded him of even earlier works by 18th century American composer William Billings, who liked to write what he called “fuguing tunes.” Combining these two influences, he came up with his own series of “Hymns and Fuguing Tunes” for various combinations of instruments.

Cowell’s Hymn and Fuguing Tune No. 10 for oboe and strings, for example, was premiered on today’s date in 1955, in Santa Barbara, California, by oboist Bert Gassman and the Pacific Coast Music Festival orchestra, conducted by Leopold Stokowski.

Henry Cowell (1897-1965): Hymn and Fuguing Tune No. 10; Humbert Lucarelli, oboe; Manhattan Chamber Orchestra; Richard Auldon Clark, conductor; Koch 7282

On today’s date in 1949, British composer Gerald Finzi conducted the premiere performance of his Clarinet Concerto at the Three Choirs Festival in Hereford.

During his lifetime, Finzi never achieved the fame of some other 20th-century British composers. British tenor Mark Padmore wrote an article, “The Quiet Man of British Music,” which included these lines:

“I want to make a case for taking the time to get to know a composer … whose plumage is discreet and whose song is quiet and subtle. Finzi might be termed one of classical music's wrens. Despite his exotic-sounding surname and mixed Italian, Sephardic and Ashkenazi heritage, Finzi was in many ways an archetypal English gentleman ... One of his passions was the saving of old English varieties of apples … [His] music was written slowly and often it would take many years for a piece to reach its final form.”

Finzi died in 1956, at 55, from Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He was concerned his music would be forgotten after his death and added this note to his catalogue of works: “The affection which an individual may retain after his departure is perhaps the only thing which guarantees an ultimate life to his work.”

Gerald Finzi (1901-1956): Clarinet Concerto; Alan Hacker, clarinet; English String Orchestra; William Boughton, conductor; Nimbus 5665

Today's date in 1934 marked the birthday of British composer Peter Maxwell Davies. His name is spelled D-A-V-I-E-S, so most Americans tend to pronounce it “Day-VEES,” even though “Davis” is the common British pronunciation.

Once, when he was in the U.S., a British journalist called a Las Vegas hotel where the composer was staying and asked to speak to Peter Maxwell Davis. The receptionist said there was no one there by that name. Asked to spell the name, the British journalist did. “Oh, Day-vees!” said the receptionist. “Sorry, there is no one registered by that name either.” It turned out the hotel computer had compressed Maxwell Davis into “Mavis” and that was how he was registered. He found the whole incident so amusing that he wrote an orchestral tone-poem, Mavis in Las Vegas, fantasizing that somehow he had a female alter-ego in that city, perhaps earning her living as a high-kicking Vegas showgirl.

In addition to the whimsical Mavis in Las Vegas, Davies often composed music often inspired by the bleak Northern land — and seascape of the Orkney Islands — an atmosphere as far removed from the Vegas Strip as you can imagine.

Peter Maxwell Davies (1934-2016): Mavis in Las Vegas; BBC Symphony; Peter Maxwell Davies, conductor; Collins 1524

On today’s date in 1573, Queen Elizabeth the First celebrated her 40th birthday.

According to some musicologists, the music-loving monarch received as a birthday gift a Latin motet for 40 voices by Thomas Tallis, Spem in Alium, which translates as Hope in All Things. Elisabeth was certainly fond of Tallis, awarding him special gifts and privileges —despite his remaining a steadfast Roman Catholic throughout her reign, when being a Catholic in Protestant England was very risky business, indeed!

In fact, other musicologists contend that this famous motet was actually written for the coronation of Elizabeth’s predecessor, Catholic queen Mary Tudor. Still others say: “No, no — the motet was commissioned by a patriotic British nobleman, who challenged Tallis to write a work as good as — or better — than a contemporary Italian composer’s 40-voice motet.”

The truth is we just don’t know for sure why Tallis composed this intricate and glorious music. We do know that in a dangerous time for anyone with strong religious convictions, Tallis lived to the ripe old age of 80. His epitaph reads: “As he did live, so he did die — in mild and quiet sort (O happy Man!)”

Thomas Tallis (1505-1585): Spem in Alium; Huelgas Ensemble; Paul Van Nevel, conductor; Sony 60992

Consider, if you will, the poor timpanist. At most symphony concerts, they sit quietly — waiting for the moment when a dramatic exclamation point is required from the kettledrums. While the violinists rarely get a break, the timpanist must sit patiently for most of the evening, biding their time, waiting for the precise moments to strike.

On rare occasions, however, the timpanist is the center of attention as soloist in a timpani concerto. One such concerto was written by American composer and timpanist William Kraft, who was born on this day in 1923. He served as a percussionist and timpanist with the Los Angeles Philharmonic for 26 years, from 1955-1981. He was that orchestra’s first composer-in-residence, and founded the L.A. Philharmonic’s first New Music Group.

His timpani concerto was written in 1983 for timpanist Thomas Akins of the Indianapolis Symphony, who premiered the work with that orchestra in 1984.

Kraft’s description of his timpani concerto is as follows: “The first movement is very jazzy … the second movement is very beautiful, with two string orchestras and a lot of glissandi, and the third is hell-bent for leather.”

William Kraft (1923-2022): Timpani Concerto; Thomas Akins, timpani; Alabama Symphony; Paul Polivnick, conductor; Albany 302

In 1941, as the German army was overrunning Russia, the Soviet government evacuated important artists to remote places of safety. Composer Sergei Prokofiev, for example, found himself in the little town of Nalchik, nestled in the foothills of the northern Caucasus Mountains about 1000 miles away from the front.

He was intrigued by the region’s folk music, and, taking a break from a big project to turn Tolstoy’s novel War and Peace into an opera, composed his String Quartet No. 2, based on local tunes. The new work was, as he put it, “a combination of virtually untouched folk material and the most classical of classical forms, the string quartet.”

Its three movements are all based on local songs and dances, and he took care not to smooth out any roughness in the original material.

His new string quartet received its premiere performance back in Moscow in April of 1942, at a concert given by The Beethoven Quartet. A later performance on today’s date that same year was delayed due to a German air raid. The new music was well received, and Prokofiev, perhaps with the air raid in mind, supposedly called the premiere “an extremely turbulent success.”

Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953): String Quartet No. 2