Sunday, March 2, 2008

LOUIS SPOHR: SYMPHONY NO. 6 (“HISTORICAL”)

Louis Spohr has sadly become one of the most underrated composers of the Romantic Period. While he was immensely popular in the period, his works did not seem to make the cut for today’s Canon. Spohr put forth a large number of pieces of various genres, including fifteen violin concerti (Spohr himself was a violinist), four clarinet concerti, and ten symphonies. In his early symphonies, Spohr adhered closely to Classical style, while in later symphonies such as no.6, the “Historical,” he began to take more chances and experiment with the growing endorsement of historical works (although this particular work would not be well-received). Completed in 1839, this symphony was perhaps his most adventurous, as each movement is orchestrated in a different style—‘Bach-Handel (1720),’ ‘Haydn-Mozart (1780),’ ‘Beethoven (1810),’ and ‘Most Recent (1840).’

Perhaps this retrospective was inspired in part by Mendelssohn’s promotion of pieces of the past in his Historical Concerts at the Leipzig Gewandhaus. Regardless of his reasoning, Spohr’s ability to recreate the traits and feel of time periods other than his own is quite remarkable. If I had just been listening to the symphony not knowing the title, I would never have guessed that it was one of Spohr’s works. Spohr’s first three movements, while imitating the styles of the period, are not exact stylistic copies as he uses traits of the Romantic throughout the piece. Each movement sounds as he intends it, though with some passages that feel like quotations. While the first three movements reflect the “backward-looking” of the Romantic, the last movement was viewed by many as ridicule of the direction modern music was going as it jabbed at quotations by another composer of the period. Therefore, none of the movements of this symphony truly reflect the style of Spohr, but are rather Spohr’s interpretations of the music around him.


The “Bach-Handel” movement is introduced by a Largo and contains fugal passages similar to what might have been found in the Well Tempered Clavier, followed by a Grave reminiscent of a pastorale and with several melodic similarities to Messiah, particularly in the duet "He shall feed his flock like a shepherd." The Largo is dominated by string and double reed textures and the melodies are filled with lower neighbor notes and trills. The fugue is rather widely spaced in time, giving the movement a majestic, stately feel. When the piece transitions to the Grave section, the flutes and oboes begin to play a more prominent role, transitioning away from the fugue of Bach to the melody of Handel. Contrasts are obvious in this movement through the transition between weighted, separated melodies and more lyrical, flowing ones, but the texture rarely shifts, nor does the regular phrase structure with the main theme repeated ad nauseum.


The “Haydn-Mozart” movement seems more heavily laden with references to Mozart than Haydn. The tempo indicates Larghetto, and the theme seems to have been drawn from the second movement of Mozart’s Symphony no. 39. The instrumental texture is close to identical, as are certain rhythmic and melodic motifs. For example, a dotted quarter/sixteenth pattern rising a third and then dropping a step pervades both of these movements. Instruments begin to have more exposed parts, with the clarinet (one of Mozart’s favorite instruments[1]) even having a lengthy solo before being joined by the rest of the orchestra. During the development the basses carry a particularly driving series of pedal tone quarter notes under the melody. I would have expected some sort of “Haydn surprise” in a movement including his name, but sadly there were none.



[1] Mozart wrote to his father, upon first hearing the instrument in 1778 in the Mannheim orchestra, “Alas, if only we too had clarinets!”


The “Beethoven” movement, set during his “heroic” period and the only one which the composer of honor does not have to share the title of the movement, is a Scherzo that begins with three solo timpani, one more than in Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. This enlargement of the performing force seems to fit well with Spohr’s Romantic background but is not exactly faithful to what Beethoven would have done (even being a Romantic composer himself), an excellent example of how Spohr follows the styles of these composers but is not an exact copy. The theme of this movement is most often carried by strings, with staccato winds interjecting. This melody meanders a little outside of the diatonic, reminiscent of the melody of Beethoven’s Third Symphony and ends abruptly with a short, forte chord.


The last movement of this symphony seems tongue-in-cheek. Sprightly melodies are immediately followed by large chords and running scales that seem to not musically approach anything. This certainly shows off the desire for large, flashy music in the Romantic, yet it does not promote any musical effect aside from tawdry attempts to flaunt a large ensemble. The introduction to this movement was evidently a lampoon of the overture to Daniel Auber's new opera La Muette de Portici, which Spohr had conducted fifty times, complete with diminished seventh chord opening (Naxos “About this Recording”). In addition, Spohr’s orchestration adds many distracting percussion instruments, including cymbals, triangle, and side drum. The music critic of the Musical World on April 6, 1840 noted that “we presume Spohr intended to satirize the present French and Italian schools of instrumental writing; and if so, he has succeeded admirably. The audience, however, did not see the joke.” Despite the poor reception of the piece, Spohr remained a relatively popular composer, though this and other failures might have contributed to his rather low-profile status in today’s performances.

This symphony was not truly evocative of a piece by Spohr. While he hides his style within all of the movements and uses his compositional freedom to interpret what those before him have done, none of them truly represent him as a composer. In addition, this piece was not even well-received by audiences since none of the movements showed off Spohr’s talents, but rather was a serious take on the past capped with a joke that was not even appreciated. While Symphony No. 6 may not deserve to be in the Canon, it is certainly an excellent mimicry of the styles of many famous composers and fascinating to listen to just to hear the progression of music. This mimicry excellently reflects the growing desire for historicism in the Romantic period, but the musical effect of the piece as a whole is minimal, despite the historical intentions. While the audience of the period might have enjoyed the first three movements because of these intentions, the fourth movement, which moved away from historical study and into the realm of satire, pushed them too far. Surely, Spohr deserves to have at least a few of his pieces in the ‘Western Music Canon’ instead of being limited to the ‘Clarinet Concerti Canon,’ but the Sixth Symphony is not one of those pieces.

MARIA SZYMANOWSKA: ETUDES AND NOCTURNE

Maria Szymanowska was a middle-class Polish composer in the early 19th century. Well known as a lyrical player with excellent technique, she toured across the Western world as a concert pianist and became the Court Pianist to successive Tsarinas of Russia beginning in 1822, which is quite impressive considering that she was Jewish woman performing in a rather anti-Semitic area Many composers of the period admired Szymanowska, dedicating pieces to her. Critics also wrote that she “defined Romanticism” through both her performances and compositions. However, while these performances and compositions may reflect the period, they are not as enjoyable to listen to as one might expect, and perhaps it is the positive attributes of Szymanowska’s concert tours that should be studied intensely rather than her musical writing.

For someone so well respected in the Romantic Period, Szymanowska’s etudes and nocturne found on the album Premiere are surprisingly lackluster. These piano solos were recorded by Nancy Fierro in 1974, and as this was the American premiere recording, one can see that these etudes were neglected for many years, probably for a reason. Most of Szymanowska’s pieces are varied miniatures for piano, and while her nocturnes (though she only wrote two) may be considered an important link between John Field and Frederic Chopin (Grove Music Online S.v. “Szymanowska, Maria”), her etudes are not likely to be affixed in the popular Canon because they are simply not memorable.

Szymanowska was well known for a large dynamic range in her performances, made possible by new innovations of the piano. While certain etudes of hers do not utilize the sustain pedal to the extent that other composers of the time did, her written dynamics reflect that strength found in her own performances. Etude in F Major is filled with alternating passages of piano and forte. Sometimes she writes abrupt dynamic changes in these passages, while in other areas she places a controlled (poco a poco) diminuendo or crescendo. Sforzandi are scattered across the solid sixteenth note rhythms. This accentuation of non-downbeats would likely cause metrical uncertainty in a listener had the downbeats not been so clearly recognizable. Many of the downbeats are emphasized by either rolled chords or grace notes. Szymanowska also utilizes a large range of notes on the piano in her Etude in F, reaching all the way to C6 and repeating that passage several times, descending an octave in each iteration.

Perhaps Szymanowska’s clearest link to Romantic ideals is her emphasis on the role of the individual. Most of her output was written for virtuoso piano. She was an empowered woman herself, winning the Court Pianist position in Russia, despite her Jewish heritage. Her own soloistic nature can be seen clearly in these etudes, and one can imagine how she must have played them with such flair. Her Etude in C Major seems particularly virtuosic as it requires that a flowing 8th note melody and a 32nd note accompaniment be played by the right hand simultaneously as the left hand plays dotted quarter notes along with the 8th notes. The melody must not be swallowed by the accompaniment, but they both must be played with the same hand. The 32nd note accompaniment therefore has a small range so that the notes are reachable, and this makes the piece sound oddly contained, particularly after listening to the wide-reaching Etude in F Major.

Szymanowska’s left hand writing seems to be much simpler than one might have expected based on improvements to the sustain pedal of which other composers were taking advantage. Rather, her writing seems to take advantage of the light style of Viennese mechanisms of the period that facilitated her stile brillant performances and compositional habits. These mechanisms gave the piano a lightness that allowed virtuosic playing without the use excessive finger strength or athleticism. In fact, many female performers avoided keyboards with English mechanisms, which required a firmer touch, though in her later tours, Szymanowska became proficient on these pianos as well (Slawomir Dobrzanski Maria Szymanowska 53). Also, stile brillant compositions such as hers generally avoid the “darker” side of the piano (low range, dense chords, etc.). Because of this, many of Szymanowska’s etudes avoid intense left hand usage. By the middle of Etude in C Major, the left hand joins in with the right hand’s 32nd notes, but they are simply an Alberti bass. Etude in F Major had an even simpler bass part as described previously. While this may just indicate Szymanowska’s emphasis on lyricism and lightness, it is a bit of a disappointment to a listener expecting to hear virtuosity in both hands.

Szymanowska’s middle-class heritage really began to shine through her compositions in her Etude in E Major, in which she created a notably more chordal texture along with more varied rhythms and chromaticism not found in either Etude in F Major or Etude in C Major. While the other etudes had been full of lighter, running fast notes, this etude feels heavier. Despite this, the melody comes through just as strong, if not stronger than the other two etudes because of the constant reinforcement of the melodic rhythm. The texture of this etude sets it apart from the others on this recording. It is comprised of a folk texture evident through the rhythm and accents as well as the 2/4 meter, which supplies a strong dance beat. Often the second 16th note of each beat is emphasized, giving a “hobbling” feel common in Jewish folk music of the era. Szymanowska used folk music profusely in her mazurkas (Grove Music Online), so it is logical to assert that her etudes might also show some of that influence. This also reflects a catering to the musical preferences of the middle class rather than only that of the bourgeoisie, a prominent characteristic of the Romantic period.

Her Nocturne in B-flat Major was the star piece of the recording, containing musical depth that was missing from the etudes. One would expect it to be the most musically pleasing of the group since etudes were generally for study (although etudes of this period were increasingly becoming “musical statements” of their own rather than practice pieces and would continue to grow in popularity as performance pieces (Slawomir Dobrzanski Maria Szymanowska 74)) while nocturnes would have been more likely to be performed in concert. Also, this piece was written near the end of Szymanowska’s life and perhaps reflects the culmination of her talents. She actually introduced the nocturne to Poland and is well known as a “stepping stone” from the nocturne technique Field to that of Chopin. One immediately notices her use of four measure phrases, a doubling of the two measure phrases preferred by Field in his nocturnes, thus expanding the lyrical possibilities of the line. This lyrical expansion suits her strengths as a performer quite well. Again, this piece contains a less active left hand part than one would expect, especially considering the nocturnes of Chopin that this piece immediately preceded.

However, Szymanowska’s developmental sections in this nocturne are what incite the most interest in a listener and truly set it apart from the etudes. She adds more texture to the themes as the piece progresses, adding ornamentation such as turns and trills as well as virtuosic embellishments on the theme. The B section begins with the left hand switching to a more chordal texture as the right hand exploits the upper reaches of the piano’s range. This exploration of range is limited to the high reaches of the piano and not the low, again reminiscent of the stile brillant in which Szymanowska performed. The form is clearly audible in this piece, consisting of variations, transitions, and a coda. Finally, in this nocturne, the listener can hear some of the left-hand arpeggiation that had been lacking in the etudes. Despite all this, rhythmic variety was lacking, and the ending of the piece (a trill with a partial scale to do) seemed forced and trite.

After complimenting her as being the most remarkable female composer, Robert Schumann added that “we also find the woman full of feeling, who has more to say, if only she knew how” (Premiere RD 77:524). Perhaps this best sums up my feelings on Szymanowska’s works. While beautiful, lyrical melodies fill the works (and based on texts describing her performances, these lyrical melodies and virtuosity would have been highly obvious in Szymanowska’s playing), their settings seem a bit drab. The bass lines are surprisingly simple given the improvements to the piano (such as the sustain pedal) that other piano composers were utilizing to the maximum in their nocturnes, and variety outside of dynamics was lacking when present at all. If someone wanted to do a study on women’s works, she would certainly be at the top of the list, but in the grand scheme of compositions, I do not think she quite makes it to the Canon based on these samples of her work.