This exuberant, vibrantly colored Te Deum in C major features a grand orchestral arrangement for three trumpets and three trombones, but does not call for soloists. It was commissioned by the Empress Marie Thérèse, consort of the Holy Roman Emperor Franz II (not to be confused with Maria Theresa, who was Empress of Austria in her own right during Haydn's youth and for whom his Symphony No. 48 is named). Marie Thérèse was an enthusiastic admirer of Haydn's music and ardently promoted his compositions at the imperial court.
The Te Deum is in one continuous movement, lasting just under ten minutes, but it packs a big punch. Divided into three distinct sections, it begins with a jubilant Allegro, moves into a brief and subdued central Adagio in C minor - the only somber interlude in the composition - and concludes with an Allegro moderato. The final section crescendos into a breathtaking double fugue.
Listen to: Choeur de Chambre de Namur, La petite Bande, Sigiswald Kuijken
Alan Hovhaness (1911 - 2000) was an American composer who wrote the large number of 467 compositions, including 67 symphonies, 22 concertos, 2 ballets and more than 100 works for chamber ensembles, and 7 operas.
Hovhaness, born Alan Vaness Chakmakjian, was the son of an Armenian chemistry teacher and a mother of Scottish descent. He began composing at an early age, reportedly from the age of four. He studied at the New England Conservatory in the 1930s; piano with Adelaide Proctor and Heinrich Gebhard, composition with Frederick Converse. In 1942 Hovhaness won a scholarship to study at Tanglewood, but left after a week of disappointment. Shortly thereafter, he came into contact with the Greek painter (he himself called him a spiritual teacher) Hermon di Giovanno, who advised him to return to his origins, in this case the liturgical music of Armenia. Because of his interest in Eastern music, philosophy and religion, Hovhaness became dissatisfied with his youth work, which he mostly destroyed. He organized an amateur orchestra and began to perform his new style of music, including such works as Celestial Fantasy, Three Armenian Rhapsodies, and the Saint Vartan Symphony.
After teaching composition at the Boston Conservatory from 1948 to 1951, he moved to New York, where he composed for radio, television, and the theater, including three scores for Martha Graham. In 1956, Leopold Stokowski, who had conducted the Symphony No. 1 "Exile" in 1942 and 1943, commissioned the Symphony No. 2 "Mysterious Mountain". Stokowski became a champion of Hovhaness and conducted many of his works in the following years.
[Hovhaness seen working on a manuscript, c. 1970-79]
During the summers of 1956 and 1959, Hovhaness taught composition at the University of Rochester's Eastman School of Music, and fellow composer Howard Hanson conducted a number of his works. In 1959, Hovhaness received a Fulbright Research Scholar Grant to study music in Madras, India, where he also composed for South Indian instruments. In 1960 he went to Tokyo, where the Nippon Philharmonic performed his Symphony No. 3. In 1962, Hovhaness returned to Japan on a Rockefeller Fellowship to study the ancient Gagaku music. In Korea he studied similar ancient music.
In 1963, Andre Kostelanetz conducted many of Hovhaness' works and commissioned several, including Symphony No. 19 "Vishnu," And God Created Great Whales, and Rubaiyat. After serving as composer-in-residence with the Seattle Symphony in 1967, Hovhaness moved to Seattle in 1972 for the rest of his life. In 1983, the C.F. Peters Corporation commissioned Symphony No. 50, "Mount St. Helen's".
Alan Hovhaness has been married six times. With his first wife, Martha Mott Davis, he had his daughter and only child, Jean Nandi. His last wife, Hinako Fujihara, his muse and a coloratura soprano by profession, who lovingly cared for him until his death, was about 25 years younger. Believing atonal music to be unnatural, Hovhaness eschewed the serialism that prevailed in intellectual musical circles and instead followed his own path. Although his music often contained dissonance, it was always within the context of (often modal) tonality. Influenced by Sibelius early in his career, Hovhaness maintained long melodic lines and transparent harmonies in his music. By the 1940s, he had absorbed his Armenian musical heritage along with Renaissance and Baroque fugues, canons, and arias; medieval and Greek modes; Byzantine polyphony; and Indian, Japanese, and Korean classical music. These many influences never obscured his own voice. He did not ignore contemporary trends, using prepared and quarter-tone piano as well as contrasting rhythms. His early experiments with aleatoric music, which he called "oriental spirit murmur," foreshadowed John Cage's fascination with chance in music. But above all, Alan Hovhaness strove to communicate beauty through his music.
Hovhaness's work has many Asian influences, not because he is the son of an Armenian, but because of his travels to India, Japan, and South Korea. The composer was deeply interested in religion and mysticism. Hovhaness was a Buddhist, which is expressed in his work through mysterious yet serene melodic lines. Hovhaness was also influenced by medieval and Renaissance music, and sometimes applied Bach's formal theory, especially his polyphony.
Hovhaness himself says that his work is mainly inspired by nature, especially the mountains. Hovhaness was not an innovative pioneer like his contemporaries Stravinsky and Schoenberg. His music is melodious and lilting in nature and was appreciated by many during his lifetime. Hovhaness's work is relatively easy to perform. Like Olivier Messiaen, Hovhaness has tried to combine the mystical and the secular, the Eastern and the Western, the ancient and the modern in his very personal music.
Hovhaness' two most recorded works, and among the most rewarding, are his Symphony No. 2 "Mysterious Mountain" op. 132, with lush, sweeping melodies like an Oriental-tinged Sibelius, and Prayer of St. Gregory for trumpet and strings (or organ) op. 62.
Symphonies
Alan Hovhaness's catalog of symphonies is numbered up to 67, but 75 is closer to the mark if suppressed early works and an unnumbered chamber symphony are included. It was Hovhaness's longevity that allowed him the time to compose so many, the last 43 of which were written after his 60th birthday. There is a parallel here with the prolific English symphonist Havergal Brian, who composed some 28 of his 32 symphonies after the same birthday.
But if we look at the number of Hovhaness's symphonies as a percentage of his total surviving output (about 500 works), we see that he did not specialize in this genre any more than other 20th-century symphonists: 67 symphonies represent about 13% of his output; compare this, for example, with Miaskovsky's twenty-seven (26%). The difference is that Hovhaness had an irreverent attitude toward contemporary notions of the modern symphony - he almost never wrote in sonata form, but for him the term "symphony" simply encompassed any multi-movement or substantial orchestral piece. His symphonic movements are not inherently different from the other music he wrote. Further evidence of Hovhaness's somewhat loose conception of the term "symphony" is that many of his symphonies acquired their designation quite arbitrarily, several years after their composition, while others are clearly solo concertos in all but name (e.g., No. 36 for flute and strings). Still other works betray a genuinely symphonic conception and yet escape the designation "symphony," such as the admirably crafted Concerto No. 7 for Orchestra.
Hovhaness's most famous symphony, the Symphony No. 2, "Mysterious Mountain," is discussed in my article "Best Symphonies of the Twentieth Century, Part Three" on this blog so I will skip it here.
Symphony No 1 "Exile" (1936)
The earliest "official" Hovhaness symphony was premiered in England in 1939 by the BBC Orchestra under Leslie Howard. The conductor heaped praise on Hovhaness, declaring his First Symphony "powerful, virile and musically very solid. It was also the work that won the composer the admiration and support of Leopold Stokowski, who introduced the symphony to the American public in 1942 and later commissioned Symphony No. 2, "Mysterious Mountain.
The "Exile" of the title alludes to the plight of the many Armenians (including Hovhaness's paternal family) who were either uprooted or killed before and after World War I, and moods of both anguish and heroism permeate the outer movements. Nevertheless, the work is dedicated to the English philosopher and writer Francis Bacon, the composer's literary hero.
The original titles of the three movements were Lament, Conflict and Triumph, reflecting the plight of the exiled Armenians. In 1970, the composer replaced the central "Conflict" movement with a new Grazioso movement and retitled the outer movements with non-programmatic tempo markings, somewhat diluting the symphony's original political connotations.
It is easy to hear Oriental influences in the rich melodic arcs, and a connection to ancient civilizations in the modal tonalities. That the composer's compassion and prayers for the liberation of the persecuted were intense is perhaps most dramatically characterized in the startling fanfares, fugues and chorale of the final movement.
A painting by the Greek mystic painter Hermon di Giovanno was Hovhaness' inspiration for this symphony. Such paintings adorned the walls of Hovhaness's apartments for most of his life. In the early 1940s, di Giovanno had introduced Hovhaness to the ancient worlds of Greece, Egypt, and India, and had encouraged the composer to further study his Armenian heritage. Hovhaness described di Giovanno as "my spiritual teacher who opened the door to the spiritual dimension. Perhaps this is the "Celestial Gate" of the title, rather than the title of a specific painting.
As Lou Harrison noted, Hovhaness was "one of the greatest melodists of the 20th century," and this symphony certainly exemplifies Hovhaness' gift for beautiful melodic writing. It is not surprising, then, that after Mysterious Mountain, Celestial Gate is the most frequently recorded symphony.
The symphony is in one movement and scored for chamber orchestra. After a brief introduction setting the mood of the work, one of the main features of the piece, an extended melody of great beauty, appears on the clarinet over a viola countermelody; the string accompaniment includes scalic pizzicato motifs that come to the fore in a later dance-like section. A number of solo instruments play this material at various times throughout the symphony. There is also a fugal development of the first phase of the theme. The work, which began in the depths of the lower strings and bassoon, ends with 'floating' high tessitura con sordini violin clusters, taking the listener from our mundane world to an ethereal world of serenity, even bliss. It is as if a new dimension is revealed to us as we finally pass through the heavenly gate.
The Vishnu Symphony is one of the most original orchestral works of the 20th century and deserves to be widely known. From the unsettling low brass growl of the opening, it is clear that this is a work of astonishing invention. It is certainly his boldest work in terms of exploring the limitless sonorities afforded by his 'senza misura' aleatoric technique, which had come a very long way from the hushed pizzicato murmurs of 1944's Lousadzak. Yet the composer's facility with what he called "controlled chaos" makes it sound completely at home in this adulatory hymn to the universe, where its purpose is to portray mystery, grandeur, and cosmic energy. The aspect of the Hindu god Vishnu with which this tone poem is primarily concerned is related to his most ancient character as a sun god, depicting him as "protector and preserver of life."
Originally conceived as a cosmic tone poem entitled "To Vishnu", the work is cast in one continuous movement as "an unfolding giant melody of adoration to the immensity and sublimity of limitless stellar universes". The form is completely free, consisting of a broad melodic line interrupted by preludes and interludes composed of a chaos of controlled sounds, never reaching aleatoric music. Its structure, according to its author, is inspired by the classical Japanese concept of Jo-Ha-Kyu, roughly translated as "beginning, pause, rapid", which essentially means that all actions or efforts should begin slowly, accelerate and then end quickly. https://youtu.be/AMFjiunPyq4?si=5LKIoaFQZvMCrCte
Concertos
Hovhaness wrote 22 concertos for various solo instruments. One of the most famous is his piano concerto, Lousadzak ("Coming of Light," 1944), but as I have already introduced that in my "Best Piano Concertos of the Twentieth Century Part Two," I will skip it here.
Concerto for Horn and String Orchestra "Artik" (1948)
Composed in 1948 for Hovhanes' students at the Boston Conservatory of Music. The concerto is named after a 7th-century octagonal Armenian church with a central dome and four semi-domes. It consists of eight short movements (I. Alleluia, II. Ballata, III. Laude, IV. Canzona: To a mountain range, V. Processional, VI. Canon, VII. Aria, VIII. Intonazione) and suggests the spiritual form of a mass with long melismatic melodic lines and motet-like responses. All melodies are original.
Prayer of Saint Gregory for trumpet and strings (1946)
The Prayer of St. Gregory op. 62b, an intermezzo from the opera Etchmiadzin with the trumpet's prayer over plaintive, hymn-like strings, is a moving spiritual piece that has already become a staple of the trumpet repertoire. It is a quietly sinuous trumpet psalm over a bed of strings - an oriental extension of the Tallis fantasia.
Listen to: David Krauss with Gerard Schwarz and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra:
Fantasy on Japanese Wood Prints, for xylophone and orchestra (1964)
This is one of the better known works resulting from Hovhaness's contact with Japan and its culture. A single-movement concerto for xylophone, Hovhaness uses Western instruments in unconventional ways to create impressions of traditional Japanese instrumental techniques. In addition, his melodies are heavily influenced by the modalities found in traditional Japanese music. Hovhaness did not attempt to create a direct musical equivalent of ukiyo-e prints, but rather intended this piece to be a reflection of the delicacy, charm, and vitality characteristic of Japanese printmaking, as well as a reflection of his own love for Japan.
Listen to Unites States Marine Band with SSgt Gerald Novak, xylophone soloist:
Mountains and Rivers Without End (1968)
A chamber symphony in all but name, and not part of the composer's numbered canon. The work was inspired by a Korean scroll, a landscape painting, and was certainly influenced by the composer's time (in the 1960s) under the tutelage of the Gagaku musician Masatoro Togi. The music is rich: dancing angels suggested by high singing violins and pizzicati, gliding horn, flute and English horn, rolling trombone roulades, bells, the Oriental ornithological serenade of flute and high woodwinds, a labyrinth of Messiaenian complexity, a paradisaical cloud of birdsong and impressionistic harp and horn parts. It all ends in pealing ecstasy.
And God Created Great Whales, for taped whale sounds and orchestra (1970)
One of Hovhaness's most famous works, mixing the taped sounds of the "song" of various whale species with a mystical score evoking the wash and depth of an imagined eastern sea. There are some conceptual parallels here with the taped birdsong in Einojuhani Rautavaara's Cantus Arcticus. This is a powerful amalgam and is made extremely moving by the counterpoint between the whale song and Hovhaness's inspired music. It contains one of Hovhaness's most inspired melodies towards the end.
Listen to: YOSA Philharmonic, Troy Peters, Music Director:
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam for speaker, accordion, and orchestra (1975)
In The Rubaiyat, a narrator intones stanzas from the Fitzgerald translation while the orchestra provides an oriental background that enhances the poems. Hovhaness, with his fascination for Eastern music and motifs, brings joy to a reading of Khayyam's poetry. An accordion is used in the orchestra, making truly beautiful and exotic sounds. You will never find a better contrast between what most people think of when they hear the words "accordion music" and what is heard here. Hovhaness does an admirable job of capturing the poetry's mixture of youthful exuberance coupled with the inevitability of mortality.
Among the highlights of Hovhaness's chamber music output is his String Quartet No. 1 "Jupiter" op. 8, an early and lush work. Interestingly, Hovhaness's quartets were written to be played in his home with his friends. Even in the quartets, Hovhaness' music inhabits a distinctive sound world, with strong, simple, modal harmonies mixed with elements from the composer's Armenian heritage and the Far East. But Hovhaness also loved the music of Bach, as evidenced by his heavy use of fugues here. In other words, Hovhaness' contrapuntal skills are very much on display in this first quartet. The opening "Prelude" and the second movement (an impressive quadruple fugue) were reworked for full orchestra in the 1950s into the popular Prelude and Quadruple Fugue. The prelude has a jaunty, interesting oriental-sounding melody, while the second movement is stylistically more strictly fugal, before a zigzagging theme builds to an urgent and busy conclusion. The slow 3rd movement is tenderly elegiac. The work concludes with a lively fugal finale that is also used in the second movement of the Mysterious Mountain Symphony.
Sonata for ryuteki and sho (flute and organ, 1968)
As the title suggests, this sonata is Japanese in inspiration, the result of Hovhaness's study of Japanese court music called gagaku (which itself originated in China in the 8th century). The ryuteki (literally "dragon flute") is a Japanese transverse flute (fue) made of bamboo. It is one of the three types of flutes used in gagaku. The sound of the ryuteki is said to represent dragons ascending into the sky. The sho is a free-reed instrument descended from the Chinese sheng of the Tang Dynasty, although the sho tends to be smaller than its contemporary sheng relatives. It consists of 17 slender bamboo pipes, each with a metal-free reed attached to its base. Two of the pipes are silent, although research suggests that they were used in some music during the Heian period. It is speculated that they were kept as part of the instrument to maintain the symmetrical shape. The sound of the instrument is said to imitate the call of a phoenix. Inspired by these exotic instruments, Hovhaness subjects their modern Western counterparts to a unique treatment: in the five short movements, the organ plays only chordal clusters in the upper register, while the flute is given melodic lines influenced by Japanese gagaku modes.
The Sonata "Fred the Cat" was written for music writer Jurgen Gothe, who commissioned the work after the death of his pet. Hovhaness happens to be another cat lover who has written other pieces influenced by cats. The sonata is a heartfelt work that again dissects the oriental accented and the hymn-like. The first movement, "Give a cat a twig and he takes a tree," is very lyrical and in ABA form. There are also many rhythmic ostinatos. The second movement, "Purr Dance," is a short and lively movement in AB form: Part A is in the style of Armenian dance music and Part B is a short jhala, Indian bell-like music. The third movement, "Fred the Cat and Distant Mountain," is also in AB form: the A section contains hymn-like material, and the B section is choral, with a bass part that moves in steps. The whole movement is religious in spirit. The final movement, "Fred the Cat flies to heaven," is in ABA form and features expressive melodic lines in the right hand against rhythmic ostinati in the left. All of the melodic phrases have a Far Eastern flavor. At the same time, this movement is reminiscent of sentimental folk art.
Bohuslav Martinu: "A cosmopolitan Czech modernist"
The Czech composer Bohuslav Martinu (1890-1959) had an international career
in France, the United States and finally Switzerland. He
wrote in a modernist and neoclassical style. Martinu was a prolific
composer, who produced nearly 400 works, including his oratorio "The Epic of Gilgamesh" (1955), his six symphonies, concertos (these number almost thirty: four violin concertos, eight compositions for solo piano, four cello concertos, one of each for harpsichord, viola, and oboe, five double concertos, two triple concertos, and two concertos for four solo instruments and orchestra), chamber music (including eight string quartets, three piano quintets, a piano quartet, a flute sonata, a clarinet sonatina) and many others. Blending influences from Eastern European folk music, the
neoclassicism of Les Six (a group of composers that included Poulenc,
Milhaud, and Honegger), impressionism, jazz, and the modernist styles of
Stravinsky and Bartok, Martinu developed a highly personal musical
language.
Martinu grew up in the bell tower of a church in Policka, Bohemia. At the age of 10, he composed his first string quartet, and at 16 he entered the Prague Conservatory, only to be expelled for “incorrigible negligence.” He eventually found work as a violinist with the Czech Philharmonic, and fell in love with Paris while on tour there in 1923. He relocated and established himself as a composer within the French musical scene, writing in a distinctive neoclassical style. He experimented with jazz, a Bartokian rhapsodic style, and neoclassic fun-and-games in the manner of Les Six. An outstanding work is the jazz ballet for six players "La Revue de Cuisine."
Later, he came more and more under the influence of Stravinsky, but unlike many others, he became less like Stravinsky and more like a Czech. Perhaps he saw the relationship of Russian folk music to Stravinsky's highly sophisticated musical approach and found his artistic salvation. But any Czech folk influences were subordinated to a neoclassical style. At this point we have such works as the Suites for String Orchestra, Inventions for Orchestra, the First Cello Concerto, the Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra, the Second Piano Concerto, and the Concertino for Piano Trio and Orchestra. The period culminates in the late 1930s with such powerful works as the opera Julietta, Tre Ricercari, and the unrelenting Double Concerto for two string orchestras, piano, and timpani - his magnum opus.
[Bohuslav Martinu at the piano working on his second symphony. U.S.A., New York, around 1942]
During World War II, Martinu fled to the United States, first traveling to Portugal before arriving in America in March 1941. Here Serge Koussevitzky encouraged the composer with a commission for his First Symphony, and Martinu was hired to teach composition during the summers at Tanglewood. His work opened up emotionally without losing its considerable craft. He became a major twentieth-century symphonist, writing four works in the genre during the war (he ended up with six). During this period, the work sings as never before. Outstanding works include the Symphony No. 4, the Violin Concerto No. 2, the Cello Concerto No. 2, the Lidice Memorial, the Piano Quartet, the Violin Sonata No. 3, and the Trio for Flute, Cello, and Piano. The post-war period saw a renewed interest in vocal music. It includes such pieces as "The Epic of Gilgamesh" and culminates in his opera based on Kazantzakis' "The Greek Passion". The two major orchestral works of this last phase are his Sixth Symphony and "Three Frescoes by Piero della Francesca."
Martinů worked quickly and was a versatile composer. His extensive and varied oeuvre shows some basic constants: There is always a close connection to Czech folk music - his compositions are often lively and dance-like. Martinu's rhythm is particularly differentiated, showing an attractive tension between regular and irregular elements as well as constant changes in time. The harmony is relatively traditional, but has its own characteristics - completely new connections and timbres emerge; however, the adherence to an extended tonality does not exclude sometimes harsh dissonances. Martinu prefers freer, rhapsodic forms to conventional ones; the basis of his music is not so much themes as motifs that undergo complex transformations. While he was initially influenced by Impressionism, his encounter with the music of Igor Stravinsky and the Groupe des Six in Paris had a lasting impact on his work. From this time on, he turned to neoclassicism and incorporated elements of jazz into his musical language.
Symphonies
In considering Martinu's symphonies, it should be kept in mind that all six date from Martinu's mature years, and also that the first five followed each other from year to year. There are useful short descriptions of all six works, describing the First as "epic, tragic and energetic", the Second as "lyrical, poetic and vivid", the Third as "dramatic and bohemian", the Fourth as "colorful and joyful", the Fifth as "visionary" and the Sixth as "a song of longing and hope". They are Martinu's most prominent works and, with the possible exception of the Second Violin Concerto and the neoclassical "La revue de cuisine," the most often performed. As a group of symphonies, they are among the best the 20th century has to offer; think Nielsen, Prokofiev, Sibelius, Milhaud, Langaard or Shostakovich.
Symphony No. 4 (1945)
The Fourth Symphony was composed in New York City from April 1945, and completed at Martinu's summer home at Cape Cod in June 1945. The work is in four movements and, according to the composer, grows out of a single motif. Here Martinu aligns himself more strongly with the Bohemian tradition of Smetana and Dvorak. The first movement alternates between lyrical and rhythmical material presented in variation. It shows the composer's rare capacity for thematic development. The music is animated by an inner light and confidence. The second movement, in 6/8 time is a Scherzo, marked by a rhythmically irregular Dvorakian leading melody. Here, too, there are many echoes of Martinu's homeland, and in the trio he writes an idyll in a small Czech village. The slow third movement is dominated by the strings with short passage-work for the woodwind. The dark-hued Largo is in a serious mood with complicated chromatism. The finale is an energetic reworking of earlier material and has hope return, to end with a shining hymn of joy and coda in C major. This symphony is the most joyous of the author's six compositions in this genre. The symphony was first played by the Philadelphia Orchestra under Eugen Ormandy on the last day of November 1945.
Listen to: hr-Sinfonieorchester ∙ Andrés Orozco-Estrada
Orchestral Music
La Bagarre (The Fight)
The young Martinu wrote works depicting a football match (Half-time), jazz-dancing kitchen utensils (La Revue de Cuisine - see below), and crowds celebrating Lindbergh's flight in La Bagarre (The Fight). These are strong orchestral works that could be compared to Honeger's Pacific 231 and Rugby.
Listen to: hr-Sinfonieorchester ∙ Andrés Orozco-Estrada
The Frescoes of Piero della Francesca
Cast in three movements, the 1955 work was inspired by the eponymous 15th-century Italian artist’s religious frescoes in Arezzo, which depict various manifestations of the power of the cross. Martinu had seen these frescoes in 1954. He was inspired particularly by "The Meeting of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba" and by "Constantine's Dream." But he largely played down any specific programmatic correlations in the score. Frescoes is characteristic of the composer in its essentially tonal style yet spiked with a harmonic tartness and rhythmic instability.
Martinu composed the work in Nice in 1955, and it was first performed in Salzburg by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Rafael Kubelik on 26 August 1956. There are three movements: Andante poco moderato - Adagio - Poco allegro.
[Detail from The History of the True Cross: the Queen of Sheba meeting with King Solomon]
The frescoes called "The Legend of the True Cross" form a sequence painted by Piero della Francesca in the Basilica of San Francesco in Arezzo. It is his largest work, and generally considered one of his finest, and an early Renaissance masterpiece. Its theme, derived from the popular 13th century book on the lives of saints by Jacobus de Voragine, "The Golden Legend," is the triumph of the True Cross – the legend of the wood from the tree in the Garden of Eden becoming the Cross on which Jesus Christ was crucified, via a tree planted on the grave of Adam.They are believed to date from after 1447, when the Bacci family, commissioners of the frescoes, are recorded as having paid an unknown painter. The large paintings would have been finished around 1466.
Listen to The Orchestra Now conducted by Leon Botstein:
Concertos and other concertante works
A professional violinist himself, Martinu wrote nearly 30 concertos or concerto-like works (solo or in small groups as in a concerto grosso).
Double Concerto for Two String Orchestras, Piano, and Timpani
Written in Switzerland in 1938 and commissioned by Paul Sacher for the Basel Chamber Orchestra, this concerto is based on the concerto grosso, its three movements scored as 1. poco allegro, 2. largo, 3. allegro. Its outer movements are characterized by a mood of anxiety expressed through syncopated rhythms, while its largo centers on a defiant, declamatory statement.
After a vacation in Czechoslovakia, Martinu worked at the Vieux Moulin near Paris. In September, he accepted an invitation to the Sacher family estate in Schönenberg, near Basel, from where he observed the deteriorating situation in Europe and especially in his homeland. The cover of the manuscript score bears the dedication: "To my dear friend Paul Sacher, in memory of the quiet and anxious days I spent in Schönenberg among the deer and the threat of war". Martinu completed the last movement of the sketch on the day of the signing of the Munich Treaty. It was premiered by the Basel Chamber Orchestra conducted by Paul Sacher in Basel in February 1940. Martinu traveled from Paris to attend the Basel performance, despite the difficult international situation. The Swiss composer Arthur Honegger was among the audience at the premiere.
Another contemporary composition with similar instrumentation is Bela Bartok's Divertimento for String Orchestra, also commissioned by Paul Sacher for the Basel Chamber Orchestra in 1938.
Listen to François-Xavier Roth conducting l'Orchestre national de France with as pianist Cédric Tiberghien:
Cello Concerto No 1
Composed in 1930, this cello concerto was one of the first works of Martinu's neoclassical period. The Catalan cellist Gaspar Cassado premiered it in Berlin with a small chamber orchestra. In 1939, Martinu rewrote it for full symphony orchestra and dedicated this version to the French cellist Pierre Fournier. Martinu revisited the work in 1955, this time thinning out the orchestration (removing the piano and tuba but keeping the rest of the brass). This version was also dedicated to Fournier and is the one usually heard today.
The concerto opens with confident music that sounds like Dvorak in his American period. The dark second theme also has a Czech flavor, expressively sung by the cello in constant interaction with the woodwinds. All in all, this is a boldly angular movement.
The heart of the concerto is the beautiful central Andante moderato, with its broad, reflective theme introduced by the clarinet and extended by other woodwinds and solo trumpet, a theme characterized by rhythmic shifts from measure to measure. When the cello enters, the theme takes on a sense of great beauty and peace. The movement builds to an impassioned climax before fading away with quiet, noble restraint.
The frenetically energetic finale opens with a vigorous toccata-like section in which the soloist is in constant motion. There is a contrasting lyrical Andantino before the brilliant surge to the final cadence.
The First Cello Concerto remains one of Martinu's most popular and successful examples of the concerto form.
Listen to: Zagreb Philharmonic Orchestra with Emanuel Pavon, cello, and Matija Fortuna, conductor:
Rhapsody Concerto for Viola and Orchestra
The Rhapsody Concerto for Viola and Orchestra was commissioned by the Ukrainian-born American violist Jascha Veissi (1898-1983) and written in New York City from March 15 to April 18, 1952.
With the Rhapsody Concerto, Martinu began his last major stylistic development toward neo-Romanticism. His ability to build long lyrical passages that end in a powerful catharsis reaches its first peak here. The work has only two movements. The first, Moderato, begins in B flat major, Martinu's favorite key in his late works. After a large orchestral introduction, the viola enters with a lyrical cantabile melody. Although Martinu provides the soloist with opportunities for virtuosic display, the main character of the work is lyrical and serene. In the second movement, Martinu introduces a simple but strong melody in F major, marked molto tranquillo. After a fast middle section, Martinu returns to this melody in a moving coda. (Based on the liner notes by Ales Brezina of the Hyperion CD Martinu, The Complete Music for Violin and Orchestra 3)
Listen to: Tapiola Sinfonietta, Jonathan Bloxham, conductor and Timothy Ridout, viola:
Concerto for Violin, Piano and Orchestra (1953)
Bohuslav Martinů was a violinist himself, yet the piano color in many of his symphonic scores is his actual signature. The two instruments are assigned solo roles in the Concerto for Violin, Piano and Orchestra (1953), commissioned by Benno and Sylvia Rabinof, who duly premiered it in May 1954. Written concurrently with Symphony No. 6 (Fantaisies symphoniques), the remarkable work bears the typical features of its author's later work, combining restless expanses with simple intimate melodies and arching from its dramatic opening to the catharsis of its conclusion. Unfortunately, it is hardly ever performed nowadays – it is one of my favorite Martinu pieces. It's accessible, tuneful and has interesting textures with the violin and piano.
Conductor Petr Popelka of the Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra has invited some excellent Czech musicians to perform – the Czech Philharmonic's youngest ever concertmaster Josef Špaček and the highly sought-after pianist Miroslav Sekera:
Chamber Music
Trio for flute, cello and piano (1944)
It was in New England, in the summer of 1944, that the three movements of the Trio came to life - written in just 5 days. It has been called a refreshingly effervescent affirmation of Martinu's Czech roots. It is a radiant gem of bright sound and cheerful mood. The first movement is a buoyant dance-like structure in modified sonata form; the slow movement is a lyrical 6/4 Adagio opened by the piano, after which the flute and then the cello go their separate ways; while the final movement, introduced by a somber cadenza for the flute, is another dance-oriented movement.
Listen to: Elizabeth Kleiber, Flute, Luis Tovar, Cello and Deborah Emery, Piano
Sonata for violin and piano No. 3 (1944)
This is one of Martinu's most dramatic and darkest duo works. This is not surprising; the sonata dates from 1944, when Martinu had exiled himself to the United States and Europe was still struggling amid the turbulence of WWII. The first movement (Poco Allegro) reveals the piano's restlessness and tension in the very first bars. The adagio is close to Dvorak with its combination of tenderness and nostalgia. In the Scherzo "homeland sounds" are masked by "New World sounds" - Gershwin rhythms and Czech dances in symbiosis. The final movement (lento, poco allegro, allegro vivo) teems with contrasting drama and lyricism, and features a Dvorak-like nostalgia, evoking Martinu's Czech roots. This sonata - which is almost like a symphony - has long been a staple of violinists’ repertoires worldwide.
Listen to Ludmila Pavlová - violin & Alena Grešlová - piano
Nonet (1959)
Scored for flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, horn, violin, viola, cello, and double bass Martinu's Nonet No. 2 was composed in 1959, the last year of his life. It was commissioned for the 35th anniversary of the Czech Nonet Ensemble, which premiered it at the Salzburg Festival, and published posthumously in the fall of that year. In three short and contrasting movements, the nine different instrumental voices interact with each other like nine people talking at a party. Everything is solo and no one is doubled. The first movement is buoyant and lively - it is full of color and texture and life. There is also a distinct "neoclassical" "Stravinsky" influence without being derivative. The second movement gives way to melancholy, led by the strings - worlds away from the first movement. The finale is perhaps the most varied, full-bodied of the three, with the most variation in its little five minutes of music. The last part of the movement brings a spirited coda and a quiet ending. Very rich and satisfying music that makes a compelling case for this composer.
Listen to Round Top Festival Institute
See my article "Best Cello Sonatas" on this blog for a discussion of Martinu's Third Cello Sonata.
Choral Works and Songs
The Epic of Gilgamesh
The Epic of Gilgamesh is a three-part oratorio for soloists, mixed chorus and orchestra, written in 1954/55. Its premiere in Basel on January 24, 1958, and its performance at the Vienna Festival in 1959 were among the composer's greatest successes. Martinu wrote the English text of his work himself, focusing on philosophical questions. Neither the heroic deeds of Gilgamesh and Enkidu nor the description of the Flood are taken from the original text.
Compositionally, the work is characterized by great contrasts between the individual parts: there are sonically intoxicating scenes with a large cast as well as striking dialogues. The small second interval plays a crucial role as a motif throughout the work. It first represents the people's fear of the ruler, and later the ruler's fear of death. The chorus and soloists take on changing roles throughout the piece, and all participants participate equally in the narrative process.
Listen to a recording by the Czech TV:
Stage Works
La revue de cuisine (Suite from the Jazz Ballet)
A one-act ballet for sextet: clarinet (B♭), bassoon, trumpet, violin, cello and piano, composed in 1927. The dancers play a variety of cooking utensils that swagger through a naive episode of kitchen life. The marriage of Pot and Lid is threatened by the suave Twirling Stick. Pot succumbs to his flattery. Dishcloth makes eyes at Lid, but is challenged to a duel by Broom. Pot, however, is tired of Twirling Stick and longs for Lid's caresses, but Lid is nowhere to be found. Suddenly, a giant foot appears from the wings and kicks him back onto the stage. Pot and Lid kiss and make up, and flirting again, Twirling Stick leaves with Dishcloth.
The music contains complex time signatures. Other jazz influences can be seen in the instrumentation: the piano with its rich harmony and dissonance, the muted trumpet reminiscent of the jazz bands of the era, and the repeated use of pizzicato in the cello part reminiscent of the use of the double bass in jazz.
The Suite is in four movements: Prologue, Tango, Charleston, and Finale.
