Composers Datebook

We tend to think of Paris as the most sophisticated and worldly of European capitals — a city whose residents are unlikely to be shocked by anything they see or hear.

Ah, but that’s not always the case, as poor Hector Berlioz discovered on today’s date in 1838, when his new opera Benvenuto Cellini premiered at the Paris Opéra. One line in the libretto about the cocks crowing at dawn was considered, as Berlioz put it, “belonging to a vocabulary inconsistent with our present prudishness” and provoked shocked disapproval. And that was just the start of a controversy that raged over both the morality and the music of this new opera.

Following the dismal opening night, Berlioz wrote to his father: “It’s impossible to describe all the underhanded maneuvers, intrigues, conspiracies, disputes, battles, and insults my work has given rise to … The French have a positive mania for arguing about music without having the first idea — or even any feeling — about it!”

From the fiasco of the opera’s premiere, however, Berlioz did retrieve some measure of success. His famous contemporaries Paganini and Liszt both admired the work — and said so — and one flashy orchestral interlude from Benvenuto Cellini did prove a lasting success when Berlioz recast it as a concert work: his Roman Carnival Overture.

Hector Berlioz (1803-1869): Benvenuto Cellini and Roman Carnival Overtures; Staatskapelle Dresden; Sir Colin Davis, conductor; BMG/RCA 68790

Today is the birthday of American composer and teacher Edward Burlingame Hill, born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 1872.

Hill studied at Harvard, which was not surprising, since his grandfather had been President of the college, and his father taught chemistry there. “My father sang the songs of Schubert, and was a great admirer of Bach. Thus at an early age I was imbued with a deep love for serious music,” he recalled. Hill studied with 19th-century American composer John Knowles Paine, who had established at Harvard the first music department in any American university. After he took all of Paine’s courses, he went on to study in Paris with Charles Widor.

Hill’s early works were in the French style, and you might say that he “wrote the book on the subject” — literally. In 1924, he published a study, French Music, and was awarded the French Legion of Honor for his efforts. During his lifetime, major American orchestras performed his music, but today, if he’s remembered at all, it’s as a teacher at Harvard. Toward the end of tenure, one his students was Leonard Bernstein, who, in 1953, made a recording of his teacher’s Prelude for Orchestra. Hill died at 88 in New Hampshire in 1960.

Edward Burlingame Hill (1872-1960): Prelude for Orchestra; Columbia Symphony; Leonard Bernstein, conductor; CBS/Sony 61849

On today’s date in 1971, the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C., was inaugurated with a gala performance of a new work by Leonard Bernstein. Mass was a musical and visual extravaganza which reinterpreted the text of the Latin liturgy and involved more than 200 singers, dancers, and instrumentalists.

Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis had asked Bernstein to write a piece to open the new Center but was conspicuous by her absence. President Richard Nixon also chose to stay away, rightly fearing that Bernstein’s Mass would be interpreted as an embarrassing protest against the war in Vietnam.

The Washington Post’s front-page review, “A Reaffirmation of Faith,” was glowing in its praise, but Time magazine’s assessment was condescending, quoting some New York wits who dubbed it the “Mitzvah Solemnis.” The New York Times review was brutal, calling Bernstein’s Mass “a combination of superficiality and pretentiousness…[and] the greatest mélange of styles since the ladies’ magazine recipe for steak fried in peanut butter and marshmallow sauce.”

But Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, when she finally did hear Bernstein’s work, sent the composer an inscribed photograph which read: “Lenny — I loved it, yes, I did, and I love you, too. Thank you for making Mass so beautiful.”

Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990): Sanctus, from Mass; Empire Brass; Telarc 80159

Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990): Simple Song, from Mass; Boston Pops; John Williams, conductor; Philips 416 360

The Three Choirs Festival is one of England’s oldest musical traditions. Established around 1715, it showcases the cathedral choirs of Gloucester, Worcester and Herford, and presents both choral and orchestral works by British composers

Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis was premiered there in 1910, and in the audience was an 18-year-old aspiring composer named Herbert Howells, who later would relate how Vaughan Williams had sat next to him for the remainder of the concert and shared his score of Elgar’s The Dream of Gerontius with him.

Howells studied music at Gloucester Cathedral before heading off to London and the Royal College of Music. He also got married and had two children. In 1935, his 9-year-old son Michael contracted polio and died three days later. The grief-stricken Howells began composing a memorial work as private therapy, choral sketches he considered too painful to complete and too personal to have performed.

But in 1950 Howells was asked for a new work to be premiered at Three Choirs Festival, and, at the urging of Vaughan Williams and others who had seen Howell’s private sketches, Howells completed his work Hymnus Paradisi, and led the premiere himself on September 7, 1950, one day after the 15th anniversary of his son’s death.

Herbert Howells (1892-1983): Hymnus Paradisi; Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Choir and Orchestra; Vernon Handley, conductor; Hyperion 66448

Works by Henry Kimball Hadley rarely shows up on concert programs anymore, but in the early years of the 20th century, he ranked as a major and very popular American composer. In 1910, Gustav Mahler conducted Hadley’s tone poem The Culprit Fay during his tenure at the New York Philharmonic, and in 1920, Hadley’s opera Cleopatra’s Night was staged at the Metropolitan Opera.

But by the time of his death on today’s date in 1937, Hadley’s full-blown, late-Romantic style was falling out of fashion in the modernist age of Stravinsky and Schoenberg.

In other aspects of his musical career, however Hadley was quite avant-garde and forward-looking: In 1921 he became associate conductor of the New York Philharmonic — the first American-born conductor to hold a full-time post with any major American orchestra. In 1926, he was invited by Warner Brothers to conduct the Philharmonic at the New York premiere of their silent film Don Juan, starting legendary actor John Barrymore, and the following year wrote an original score for a second Barrymore silent feature, When A Man Loves.

Hadley is also credited with making the first symphonic video, a 10-minute Vitaphone film of Hadley conducting Wagner’s Tannhauser Overture that was shown in movie theaters back then and you can still see today via YouTube!

Henry Kimball Hadley (1871-1937): The Culprit Fay; Ukraine National Symphony; John McLaughlin Williams, conductor; Naxos 8.559064

Amy Marcy Cheney Beach was born in Henniker, New Hampshire, on today’s date in 1867. Amy Beach — or, Mrs. H.H.A. Beach, as she was also called — was one of America’s first major women composers and a gifted concert pianist to boot

We probably have Mr. Beach to thank for Amy’s decision to devote herself more to composition than performance. In the spring of 1885, at 18, she debuted as a soloist with the Boston Symphony, and it seemed a major concert career was in the offing. But later that same year, she married Dr. Henry Harris Aubrey Beach, a prominent New England physician. In respect to his wishes and the custom of the day for women in high society, Mrs. H.H.A. Beach curtailed her concert career and concentrated instead on writing music. Her first published work was a setting of a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, a long-time family friend.

Only after her husband’s death in 1911, did Amy revive her career as a concert pianist with a concert tour throughout Germany, returning to America at the outbreak of World War I. In her later years, she acted as mentor to a whole new generation of American women pursuing careers in music. She died in New York in 1944.

Amy Beach (1867-1944): Piano Concerto; Joanne Polk, piano; English Chamber Orchestra; Paul Goodwin, conductor; Arabesque 6738

On today’s date in 1996, Michael Tilson Thomas conducted the San Francisco Symphony in the first performance of Lost and Found, a five-minute toccata for orchestra. Its composer was Steve Mackey, an American whose music Tilson Thomas championed and recorded.

Mackey wrote: “On more than one occasion Michael has used the word ‘wacky’ to describe my music. Composers usually blanch at such attributions — nobody wants to be captured in a single word — but I can live with ‘wacky’. It is not a common adjective, does not end with ‘ism,’ and clearly the rhyme with my last name personalizes it. My music tends to explore fringe modes of consciousness rather than brand name emotion or logical thought.”

He also avoids conventional titles. His Concerto for Electric Guitar is titled Tuck and Roll, and among his other works can be found Banana/Dump Truck and Eating Greens.

Mackey said, “I think a lot about momentum, inertia, and even gravity, allowing the music to get stuck and tip over, lurch headlong, tumble with limbs akimbo as well as to move fluidly gives it a ‘road runner’ cartoon kind of physicality, a fantasy, but not completely unhinged from the physical world.”

Steven Mackey (b. 1956): Lost and Found; New World Symphony; Michael Tilson Thomas, conductor; BMG 63826

On today’s date in 1931, a short notice appeared in The San Francisco Chronicle, which began: “Music never before heard in San Francisco will make up the program of the New Music Society to be conducted by Nicolas Slonimsky of Boston tonight in the Community Playhouse.” In addition to new works by Stravinsky and Prokofiev, Slonimsky conducted pieces by three American composers, including the world premiere of Washington’s Birthday, by Charles Ives.

Ives had written Washington’s Birthday in 1909, and the following year had talked some theater musicians into giving the work a run-through. “They made an awful fuss about playing it, and only after some of the parts that seemed to me to be the best and strongest were cut,” he recalled. About 10 years later, he asked some players of the New York Symphony to give the score a private reading at his home. Again, the musicians complained it was just too difficult.

Slonimsky’s 1931 performance in San Francisco presented the score complete and as originally written. Ives, who lived on the East Coast, was not present for the San Francisco premiere, but was delighted to learn — as he put it: “Neither the audience nor the critics were disturbed to the point of cussing.

Charles Ives (1874-1954): Washington’s Birthday; Chicago Symphony; Michael Tilson Thomas, conductor; CBS/Sony 42381

On today’s date in 1773, Austrian Empress Maria Theresa was visiting the country estate of Prince Nikolaus of Esterhazy. Among the attractions there were an opera house, a marionette theater, and the prince’s impressive chamber orchestra led by Franz Joseph Haydn.

It’s possible that Haydn’s Symphony No. 48 was performed for the Empress — in any case, this symphony came to be nicknamed the Maria Theresa. We do know that Haydn and his orchestra did perform for the empress — and that they were all dressed up in Chinese costumes for one performance during her visit! Among other “duties as assigned,” Haydn shot three wild game hens that were cooked up for the Empress’s dinner. Ah, the life of a court musician in the 18th century!

It’s also reported that Haydn told the empress an amusing story from his childhood in Vienna. Apparently repair work was being done on St. Stephens Cathedral when Haydn was a boy soprano in the Cathedral Choir. The empress was annoyed at the racket made by choirboys playing on the scaffolding and ordered that the next one caught playing up there would get a spanking. The following day Haydn climbed the scaffold, was caught, and received the promised punishment.

Apparently they both got a good laugh out of recalling the story.

Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809): Symphony No. 48 (Maria Theresa); Polish Chamber Orchestra; Jerzy Maksymiuk, conductor; EMI Classics 69767

On today’s date in 17th century Germany, a baby boy was christened who would grow up to be one of the leading composers and organists of his time. No, it wasn’t Johann Sebastian Bach — although the child we’re discussing here would become the teacher of the teacher of J.S. Bach and did serve as godfather to one J.S. Bach’s older relations.

It was Johann Pachelbel who was baptized on today’s date in Nuremberg in 1653. He was a famous musician in his day, but after his death in 1706, Pachelbel would be pretty much forgotten until late in the 20th century, when an orchestral arrangement of a little chamber piece that he’d written — Pachelbel’s Canon would suddenly become an unexpected hit. In 1979, the American composer George Rochberg even included a set of variations on Pachelbel’s Canon as the third movement of his own String Quartet No. 6.

Like Bach, some of Pachelbel’s children also became composers, and one of them, Karl Teodorus Pachelbel, emigrated from Germany to the British colonies of North America. As “Charles Theodore Pachelbel,” he became an important figure in the musical life of early 18th century Boston and Charleston, where he died in 1750, the same year as J.S. Bach.

George Rochberg (1918-2005): Variations on Pachelbel’s Canon, from String Quartet No. 6; Concord Quartet; New World 80551