Barber & Mendelssohn Program notes

Toward the Unknown Region (1904-06)

Ralph Vaughan Williams

Born October 12, 1872 in Down Ampney, Gloucestershire, England · Died August 26, 1958 in London
14 minutes
World premiere October 10, 1907 at the Leeds Triennial Music Festival

Vaughan Williams spearheaded a renewed interest in English folk song
Though he came from a privileged background, he was a committed Socialist
He spent three months in Paris studying orchestration with Maurice Ravel
His mother was a niece of Charles Darwin

Vaughan Williams is best known for his compositions drawing extensively on English folk music and Elizabethan polyphony, such as the Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis and Fantasia on “Greensleeves.” He was also arguably the most important English choral composer since Henry Purcell. He left a rich legacy of vocal compositions: solo songs for voice and piano, unaccompanied part songs, English folk song arrangements, carols and numerous vocal/orchestral works. Foremost among the latter category is A Sea Symphony, for soprano and baritone soloists, mixed chorus and orchestra. It was his first symphony – he would eventually write nine – and occupied him from 1903 to 1909.

A Sea Symphony sets a text by the American poet Walt Whitman, whose Leaves of Grass Vaughan Williams encountered while studying at Cambridge University. He had previously set poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson and Dante Gabriel Rossetti, but was clearly drawn to Whitman’s verse. So was his friend Gustav Holst. In the late 1940s, Vaughan Williams told Holst’s daughter Imogen, “About 1904 or early 1905 Gustav and I were both stuck – so I suggested we should both set the same words in competition, suggesting “Darest thou now O soul” [from Leaves of Grass]. The prize was awarded by us to me.” His apparent lack of modesty was deserved. Critics agreed that Vaughan Williams had written the superior work; The Times of London opined that Toward the Unknown Region marked him as the foremost composer of the younger generation. (For his part, Holst did not even include “Darest thou now, O Soul” in his own list of works.)

In correspondence with Holst, Vaughan Williams referred to Toward the Unknown Region as a cantata, but it is really a song, albeit a rather lengthy one. Whitman’s poem consists of four verses that address the mystery of mortality, the unknown territory of the afterlife. The opening line dares the soul to embark on that journey, viewing it as an opportunity for fulfilment. The text follows a trajectory from uncertainty to spiritual catharsis. Vaughan Williams’s sympathetic setting is mysterious and understated at the start, gradually proceeding to triumphant and optimistic at the close.

Instrumentation: 3 flutes, 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, bass clarinet, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, 2 harps, organ, mixed chorus, and strings.

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op.14

Samuel Barber

Born March 9, 1910 in West Chester, Pennsylvania · Died January 23, 1981 in New York City
25 minutes
World premiere February 7, 1941 in Philadelphia. Albert Spalding was the soloist; Eugene Ormandy conducted the Philadelphia Orchestra

Barber was a prodigy, composing his first piece when he was seven
He served in the Army Air Corps during World War II
Barber loved soap operas, particularly As The World Turns
He met his lifelong partner Gian-Carlo Menotti while studying at the Curtis Institute

During the first half of the twentieth century, violin soloists appearing with orchestras favored a relatively small repertoire of concerti. The four nineteenth-century German titans, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Bruch, and Brahms, accounted for a disproportionate number of violin concerto performances. Tchaikovsky, Wieniawski and Saint-Saëns were close runners-up, and the Lalo Symphonie espagnole had a number of champions attracted by its sparkle and Latin panache. In the second half of the twentieth century, tastes expanded and shifted. Mozart’s relatively early violin concerti became mainstream and Bach’s concerti found their way into the concert hall with some regularity. Contemporary composers whose music was cutting-edge before the Second World War — Prokofiev, Stravinsky, Shostakovich, Bartók, even Sibelius — were less threatening to audiences that had become more acclimated to their musical language. With the exception of Sibelius, their violin concerti have not become audience favorites, but these works receive occasional performances and are accepted as important contributions to the literature.

If we consider that background, the astonishing success of Samuel Barber’s violin concerto is all the more remarkable. To begin with, Barber was American. The United States was an upstart country and its classical composers were slow to gain acceptance here or abroad.

Barber’s early successes were legion. By the time he completed the Violin Concerto in 1939, he had already established a solid reputation with his Overture to The School for Scandal (1931), Dover Beach (1931), Sonata for Cello and Piano (1932), Music for a Scene from Shelley (1933), the ubiquitous Adagio for Strings (1936; originally part of his String Quartet), his First Symphony (in one movement, 1936) and the First Essay for Orchestra (1937). The legendary Arturo Toscanini, who was not known for his interest in new music, let alone American music, became a proponent of Barber’s work. For a young man in his mid-twenties, these were impressive achievements.

Barber went on to fulfill his early promise. Among other works, he completed several important operas, most notably Vanessa (1956) and Antony and Cleopatra, with which the new Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center opened in 1966. But nothing in his oeuvre other than the Adagio has captured the popular imagination like the Violin Concerto. And no American violin concerto in this century has so entranced great violinists. What is it about this work that draws us back to it again and again?

To better understand his Violin Concerto, we must consider Barber himself. Born into a stable upper middle class family, he pursued his formal musical education at the newly-formed Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. Barber was a renaissance man with a keen intellect. In addition to music, he cultivated interests in art and literature. He spoke French, German, Italian and Spanish with ease, and read voraciously in all his languages. With respect to music, his persona was influenced substantially by his aunt and uncle, Louise and Sidney Homer. Louise was an important contralto; Sidney a respected composer of art songs. Barber was one of the few modern composers to receive formal training as a singer, and his sensitivity to vocal line is a defining aspect of his music, even the instrumental works.

He certainly brought this gift to the Violin Concerto. Its first two movements combine Brahmsian eloquence with Mendelssohnian melody; its perpetual motion finale is a dazzlingly difficult tour de force for the soloist. The concerto was Barber’s first major commission. He undertook the work at the best of Samuel Fels, a member of the Curtis Institute board and the owner of the Fels Naptha soap fortune. Fels intended the concerto for his adopted son, Iso Briselli, a gifted young violinist. Barber spent the summer of 1939 in Sils-Maria, Switzerland, completing the first two movements. With war imminent, American citizens were advised to leave Europe. Barber completed the concerto the following summer in Pocono Lake Preserve, Pennsylvania. When he presented Briselli with the finale, the violinist was dissatisfied. According to Barber’s biographer Barbara Heyman:

Many years later, Briselli offered [an] explanation in which he professes that although he believed the first two movements of the concerto were beautiful and eagerly awaited the finale, he was disappointed with the third movement as ‘too lightweight’ compared to the rest of the concerto. He suggested that the middle section be expanded to develop the movement into a sonata-rondo form, but Barber would not consider it.

Barber’s commission, the proceeds of which he had already spent in Europe, was briefly in question. Eventually, he and Fels negotiated a compromise whereby Barber would retain his fee and Briselli would forego his right to première the work. That honor went to Albert Spalding in February 1941. The composer wrote the following description of the work for the first performances.

It is lyric and rather intimate in character and a moderate-sized orchestra is used. . . The first movement — allegro molto moderato—begins with a lyrical first subject announced at once by the solo violin, without any orchestral introduction. This movement as a whole has perhaps more the character of a sonata than concerto form. The second movement — andante sostenuto — is introduced by an extended oboe solo. The violin enters with a contrasting and rhapsodic theme, after which it repeats the oboe melody of the beginning. The last movement, a perpetual motion, exploits the more brilliant and virtuoso characteristics of the violin.

What he does not say is that his clear tonal language and unerring sense of drama make the Violin Concerto extraordinarily effective in performance. These are the factors that cause us to welcome its regular return to the concert hall.

Instrumentation: woodwinds, horns and trumpets in pairs, timpani, piano, solo violin and strings. Barber adds military drum for the third movement only.

Symphony No.3 in A minor, Op.56, “Scottish”

Felix Mendelssohn

Born February 3, 1809 in Hamburg, Germany · Died November 4, 1847 in Leipzig, Germany
40 minutes
World premiere March 3, 1842 at the Leipzig Gewandhaus

Felix Mendelssohn was multi-talented: an artist, poet, linguist and athlete as well as musician
He came from a wealthy family of bankers
His grandfather Moses Mendelssohn was a prominent enlightenment philosopher
Mendelssohn was a major figure in the rediscovery of Bach’s music in the late 1820s

Felix Mendelssohn had little empathy for French taste or custom; however, he demonstrated strong Anglophile leanings early on. For nearly two decades, he spent as much time in the British Isles as he did on the continent. His affinity for England was warmly reciprocated by English and Scots alike. During one of his earlier trips across the Channel, Mendelssohn travelled to the Scottish highlands in 1829, with his friend Carl Klingemann.

The journey to Scotland was a plausible one for two well-heeled young men rounding out their Grand Tour as they came of age. Felix was well-educated, with a keen appreciation of both literature and history. He was also an accomplished artist who was attracted by the wild and beautiful Scottish landscape. Klingemann and Felix had embarked on a literary pilgrimage of sorts. The novels of Sir Walter Scott had contributed to the aura surrounding Scottish lore and legend. The great German writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe considered Scott’s Waverley to be one of the greatest books ever written.

The musical legacy from that 1829 trip was considerable, yielding two epic works: the Hebrides Overture and the Scottish Symphony (whose first musical sketches he jotted down after viewing the ruins of Edinburgh Castle). Remarkably, there is no musical overlap between the two compositions. Although they share a strong Scottish flavor, the music of the overture is all Mendelssohn’s, whereas he made a conscious effort to incorporate the flavor — and some actual melodies — of Scottish folk ballads into the Symphony.

Although the Scottish is numbered third among Mendelssohn’s five mature symphonies, it was his last symphonic effort. He began it during the 1829 Scotland trip, but set it aside in favor of other projects (including the beloved Italian Symphony of the following year), and did not complete it until 1841. He conducted the premiere in Leipzig on March 3, 1842. Most musicians prefer the Scottish to the Italian, citing Mendelssohn’s fastidious orchestration and superb handling of form.

Mendelssohn specified in the published score that the symphony’s four movements were to be played without pause. The brooding slow introduction to the first movement hints at much of the significant thematic material that dominates the Allegro un poco agitato section. At the close of the movement, the music of the introduction recurs, this time to serve as transition to the F major scherzo. The clarinet’s main theme has been likened to a bagpipe. Its simple pentatonic outlines do call to mind the rare sunny days of the dour Scottish climate.

The slow movement, with its harp-like accompaniment, is warm, songful and romantic, successfully skirting the pitfalls of sentimentality. Like the scherzo that precedes it, this Adagio provides a psychological break from the storms that threaten in the outer movements. The finale’s original title was Allegro guerriero [Warlike allegro], but it is the rich abundance of themes that makes the big impression in this impressive closing movement. The feisty energy of Mendelssohn’s opening passage bears a startling resemblance in character to the A minor saltarello finale of the “Italian” symphony. Mendelssohn’s intricate contrapuntal web of the “Scottish” finale’s many themes sets it at a higher level.

Instrumentation: woodwinds in pairs, four horns, two trumpets, timpani and strings