Isaac Albeniz ran away from home and toured the U.S. at the age of 12, studied piano in Leipzig, Brussels, and with Liszt in Budapest, and polished his composition skills in Paris, yet he is best known for his works which depict his home country of Spain [iii]. Though Albeniz learned and performed a great deal elsewhere in the world, his dedication to more widely distributing the exotic folk music of Spain established him as a leader in Spanish nationalistic music in the Romantic period. The Romantic era was a time known for radical change, socially and politically, and Spain was not immune to its ravages. Spain in the nineteenth century was ripe with turmoil, and the lack of stability greatly suppressed many forms of art, as there were few to no major, internationally-known painters or composers in Spain from the beginning of the century until nearly the end [iii].
One of these emerging artists towards the end of the century was Isaac Albeniz. Though he studied all over the western world, his compositional style was most notably influenced by his association with Felipe Pedrell, known as “the greatest of nineteenth-century Spanish musical scholars” [iii] and as a teacher who pushed his pupils to compose using the folk music of Spain [ii]. As a result, Albeniz would write many Spanish nationalistic works, most notably for piano, including Iberia and Suite espanola.
Each work in Albeniz’s Suite espanola, a collection composed between 1886 and 1889, depicts a region of Spain and that region’s corresponding dance style. There are two suites, the first containing the titles and tone paintings of “Granada,” “Catalina,” “Sevilla,” “Cadiz,” “Asturias,” “Aragon,” “Castilla,” and “Cuba,” and the second featuring “Zaragoza” and “Sevilla.”
Many elements unify the movements. Harmonic movement is simple, often alternating between I and V. Melodies are also simple, but tuneful and lyrical. The form of the suites is essentially ternary, and the styles of the sections seem to be consistent. There is stark contrast between the A and B sections, of which Walter Clark says that Albeniz “employs the spirited rhythms… in the A section as well as stirringly lyrical and animated copla in the B section” [i]. For the most part, A sections tend to move at a more constant speed, using dancing motor rhythms in the left hand while the right hand carries lyrical melodies in short phrases. B sections contrast greatly, however, and are usually announced by abrupt breaks after the A section. These middle sections tend to be in a more rubato style. They maintain great lyricism but seem more emotional, as they are often in minor keys. While these sections do not paint a picture of Spain through dance rhythms, we do get the essence of Spain’s Moorish culture through Albeniz’s use of the Phrygian mode. Through these forms, Albeniz first catches our attention with intricate dance rhythms, gives us a glimpse of the soul of the region through its melodies, and then leaves us again with the more memorable rhythmic dance.
Aside from harmonic and melodic simplicity and abruptly contrasting sections, Albeniz is firmly in the late Romantic period through his use of chromaticism. In the “Catalina” movement the return of the theme in the second A section is accompanied by descending chromatic chords in the left hand. Chromaticism is also clearly stated in the transition between themes in the A section of “Sevilla,” in the harmonic and melodic movement of “Zaragoza,” and in the theme of “Cuba.”
As can be expected with dance-based music, rhythms also establish this work in Romantic nationalism. The meter stays pretty much rooted in 6/8. Dotted rhythms exist throughout nearly the entire “Cataluna” movement, “Castilla” features a rapid-fire rhythmic gallop in the left hand, “Zaragoza” makes use of triplets, and “Asturias,” which was my favorite movement, begins with fast ostinati in the left hand, then adds an offbeat tonic note floating above in the right hand, and finally incorporates very striking, accented chords on the downbeats in the right hand. This movement stood out to me in that the A section was almost entirely rhythmically based and portrayed the sheer intensity of the “Leyenda” dance. One thing I found interesting, though, was that there was an obvious pause or hesitation before each of these strikes. I am not sure if this was notated by Albeniz to adhere to the nature of the dance, or if it was done by choice of the performer, but I thought it was strange that a section with so much rhythmic intensity would be broken up in such a way.
While overall I enjoyed Albeniz’s Suites, the “Asturias” movement was the only one that stayed in my mind through the end. Many of the other movements were too similar, both in form and in content, and by the last movement, material recycled from earlier in the work appears. I think this work would have been better executed with fewer and more contrasting movements. When I think about what it would be like to tour Spain, I think there would be many memorable sights and experiences, but Isaac Albeniz makes it seem more like a drive across Kansas. I think this work is not included in the canon because there is simply not enough contrast among the movements. There are some great high points, such as the “Asturias,” but they are too few and far between for the piece to be considered one of the greatest nationalistic works of the Romantic period.
Bibliography
[i] Clark, Walter Aaron. Isaac Albeniz: Portrait of a Romantic. New York: Oxford University
Press, 1999.
[ii] Thompson, Wendy, Christopher Webber. “Albeniz, Isaac (Manuel Francisco).” In Oxford
Music Online, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.mnl.umkc.edu/subscriber/article/opr/t114/e146 (accessed February 20, 2009).
[iii] Samson, Jim, ed. The Late Romantic Era. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1991.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Comment on Joshua Hey's Response - Mozart Concerto for Harp and Flute
Mozart was undeniably the most influential composer in Western music and also one of the most prolific. It is easy to think of some of his monumental works as Joshua Hey does in his journal response. Don Giovanni, Symphony No. 40, and Mozart’s Requiem Mass are all pieces in which we hear Mozart at his creative heights and his clever melodies are imprinted in our minds. However, these pieces make trouble for the vast works he composed which are not included in the canon, such as the Concerto for Flute and Harp, K. 299.
Not being able to recall this piece and reasoning it must be worth listening to because it is, after all, Mozart, I decided to read Joshua Hey’s response to the piece. Upon reading, I was shocked. Joshua describes the piece as predictable and unmemorable – what sacrilege! Calling Mozart unmemorable seemed like slapping God in the face. However, after listening, I changed my mind.
One of Joshua’s comments was that he could not recall a single theme from the piece after listening. I also found this to be true especially of the first movement. Even though the ensemble, minus harp and flute, hammer out the main arpeggiated theme for the first minute and a half before the concerto instruments enter and restate, I could not recall this open theme by the end. I also agree with Joshua on the initial novelty of hearing these two instruments playing a double concerto. However, the particularly thin sounds did become very tired to me, perhaps because of the similar roles they each played throughout. While the flute took long-winded solo interludes, the harp remained in an accompaniment role. I really wanted the harp to be able to share some of the spotlight. I also agree with Joshua on the lack of chordal work for the harp. I felt that in using an instrument such as harp, Mozart should have made use of the full range and technical possibilities of the harp, rather than having it double the flute lines. Working against the harp also was the fact that it was often in the same range as the upper strings and often employed a similar timbre, especially when the strings were pizzicato.
Joshua’s critique of the work’s harmonic structure was also accurate. Most progressions were from the tonic to the dominant and back again, making for very simple, predictable harmonic accompaniments. While this is fitting for a Classical piece where accompaniment is simplified and simple, catchy melody is the focal point, I did not feel the piece was balanced in that way. The melodies, for the most part, were simply not interesting or memorable enough to make up for the predictable harmonic movement.
I do, however, feel differently about the second movement. While I could not remember any themes from the first or third movements once the piece was over, I could remember the theme from the second movement. While the first and third movements had a more frantic, forced energy about them, I found the second movement to be much more organic and natural in its movement and space. The melody seemed to be derived more from emotion than from determining notes that would work. The slower andantino tempo allows more breath between the concerto instruments and the accompaniment. For these reasons, I found the second movement to stand alone as the memorable movement of the piece, and essentially the only place I differ in opinion from Joshua. I would, as a result, like to know more on Joshua’s indifference to the movement.
I very much enjoyed the closing of Joshua’s response in which he describes our how our “unfettered” view of the piece can cause our difference of opinion to how it may have once been received, and that we can “look for those few common threads that bind together all great art”. While Mozart’s Concerto for Harp and Flute fits the Classical mold, Joshua is correct in his assessment that it simply does not show us “something powerful about our very nature or existence” and therefore cannot be admitted into the canon which contains Mozart’s true masterpieces. (Joshua Hey, Cons 352WI Blog, entry posted January 25, 2009)
Not being able to recall this piece and reasoning it must be worth listening to because it is, after all, Mozart, I decided to read Joshua Hey’s response to the piece. Upon reading, I was shocked. Joshua describes the piece as predictable and unmemorable – what sacrilege! Calling Mozart unmemorable seemed like slapping God in the face. However, after listening, I changed my mind.
One of Joshua’s comments was that he could not recall a single theme from the piece after listening. I also found this to be true especially of the first movement. Even though the ensemble, minus harp and flute, hammer out the main arpeggiated theme for the first minute and a half before the concerto instruments enter and restate, I could not recall this open theme by the end. I also agree with Joshua on the initial novelty of hearing these two instruments playing a double concerto. However, the particularly thin sounds did become very tired to me, perhaps because of the similar roles they each played throughout. While the flute took long-winded solo interludes, the harp remained in an accompaniment role. I really wanted the harp to be able to share some of the spotlight. I also agree with Joshua on the lack of chordal work for the harp. I felt that in using an instrument such as harp, Mozart should have made use of the full range and technical possibilities of the harp, rather than having it double the flute lines. Working against the harp also was the fact that it was often in the same range as the upper strings and often employed a similar timbre, especially when the strings were pizzicato.
Joshua’s critique of the work’s harmonic structure was also accurate. Most progressions were from the tonic to the dominant and back again, making for very simple, predictable harmonic accompaniments. While this is fitting for a Classical piece where accompaniment is simplified and simple, catchy melody is the focal point, I did not feel the piece was balanced in that way. The melodies, for the most part, were simply not interesting or memorable enough to make up for the predictable harmonic movement.
I do, however, feel differently about the second movement. While I could not remember any themes from the first or third movements once the piece was over, I could remember the theme from the second movement. While the first and third movements had a more frantic, forced energy about them, I found the second movement to be much more organic and natural in its movement and space. The melody seemed to be derived more from emotion than from determining notes that would work. The slower andantino tempo allows more breath between the concerto instruments and the accompaniment. For these reasons, I found the second movement to stand alone as the memorable movement of the piece, and essentially the only place I differ in opinion from Joshua. I would, as a result, like to know more on Joshua’s indifference to the movement.
I very much enjoyed the closing of Joshua’s response in which he describes our how our “unfettered” view of the piece can cause our difference of opinion to how it may have once been received, and that we can “look for those few common threads that bind together all great art”. While Mozart’s Concerto for Harp and Flute fits the Classical mold, Joshua is correct in his assessment that it simply does not show us “something powerful about our very nature or existence” and therefore cannot be admitted into the canon which contains Mozart’s true masterpieces. (Joshua Hey, Cons 352WI Blog, entry posted January 25, 2009)
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Dittersdorf "Die vier Weltalter"
Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf was born in Vienna in 1739 and is known as one of the premiere composers of the Viennese school according to his biography on Grove Music Online. His Symphony No. 1 in C Major “Die vier Weltalter” was composed in 1781 and is the first in a collection of twelve programmatic symphonies based on the Latin poet Ovid’s Metamorphoses, a collection of books which retold stories from Greek and Roman mythology. (Dittersdorf, Carl Ditters von, Grove Music Online). The works’ scoring is for a relatively large orchestra consisting of one flute, two oboes, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets, harpsichord, timpani, and a string section of violin, viola, cello, and bass. The subject matter, a return to the classics of Greece and Rome tells us without listening that Dittersdorf’s Symphony is a Classical work. “Die vier Weltalter” translates to “The Four Ages of the World,” corresponding to the Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Iron Ages discussed in Ovid’s first book of the Metamorphoses. The Symphony is likewise divided into four movements, each representing an age of the world.
The first movement represents the “Golden Age,” described by Ovid as a time of peace and plenty, where people rely on faith, and there is “eternal spring” (More 1922). The movement opens with a simple, stately melody introduced by the strings and then restated by the whole orchestra. Dittersdorf uses somewhat of a sonata form with a repeated exposition. There is a contrast in the orchestration for the development section as Dittersdorf uses only violins, violas, celli, and bassoons to create a light, airy texture that gives the feeling of Ovid’s “eternal spring.” The form is then completed with a recapitulation of the theme presented by the full orchestra followed by great dynamic contrast in repeated melodic material as the final four bars are repeated before concluding the movement.
The second movement represents the “Silver Age” in which God has become all-powerful and created the four seasons, and man begins to become structured in his existence. The second movement is marked allegro e vivace and begins immediately with a motor rhythm in the upper strings which is then passed to the lower strings and winds. This motor rhythm conveys the sense of structure and forward movement described in Ovid’s “Silver Age.” The development shows great contrast in its exploration of minor tonalities and descending lines, and its use of only upper strings and winds, creating a somewhat icy feeling, suitable for winter, the third of the seasons. Again, the movement ends with a recapitulation of the theme, probably signaling the return of spring, culminating in a series of tonic arpeggios. For a movement depicting structure and order, Dittersdorf again chose to use the very standard and structured sonata form with a repeated exposition.
The third movement represents the “Bronze Age” in which man has discovered his violent side. The movement contrasts greatly by being entirely in the relative minor, giving weight to the sadness of the subject matter, and also in its use of the dotted-eight not followed by a sixteenth note rhythm present in some part through most of the movement. However, it is in minuet form and is therefore a dance movement, creating the strange irony of having violence depicted by a light, rhythmic dance. This comic irony gives the sense that this minuet movement is essentially being treated as what, by Beethoven’s time, will be a scherzo (Scherzo, Grove Music Online).
The final movement depicts the “Iron Age,” described by Ovid as an age in which greed and selfishness overtakes men and they go to war with each other to take the earth and exploit it for wealth. It is a time when all good is gone from the earth and evil reigns, and men cannot trust men. The movement opens with descending chromatic figure in the strings that become increasingly more rhythmic, leading to an announcement in the trumpet. The increasing rhythmic pattern returns, this time with timpani, and builds to a climax. This leads to a frenzied section with rapid ascending scales and offbeat rhythms in the violins. When the smoke clears, a new melodic theme is introduced by the upper strings and is then repeated with full orchestra with much more rhythmic intensity. In stark contrast with the second movement, the fourth movement depicts the violent fall of man and the loss of order. Man’s greed is an inescapable fate, shown by the accelerating rhythmic pattern that leads to the violent climax.
Dittersdorf’s Symphony No. 1 in C Major is a great programmatic work that exemplifies the elements of classical style. Melodies are simple, short, and tuneful, and we can hear contrast in dynamics and rhythms. For these reasons, in addition to the fact that it is a concise piece that holds the listener’s attention, I believe this piece should be included in the canon.
Bibliography
Grave, Margaret, Jay Lane. “Dittersdorf, Carl Ditters von.” In Grove Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.mnl.umkc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/07861(accessed January 24, 2009).
Ovid, Metamorphoses, ed. Brookes More. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
http://www.theoi.com/Text/OvidMetamorphoses1.html (accessed January 25, 2009).
Russell, Tilden A. “Scherzo.” In Grove Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.mnl.umkc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/24827 (accessed January 31, 2009).
The first movement represents the “Golden Age,” described by Ovid as a time of peace and plenty, where people rely on faith, and there is “eternal spring” (More 1922). The movement opens with a simple, stately melody introduced by the strings and then restated by the whole orchestra. Dittersdorf uses somewhat of a sonata form with a repeated exposition. There is a contrast in the orchestration for the development section as Dittersdorf uses only violins, violas, celli, and bassoons to create a light, airy texture that gives the feeling of Ovid’s “eternal spring.” The form is then completed with a recapitulation of the theme presented by the full orchestra followed by great dynamic contrast in repeated melodic material as the final four bars are repeated before concluding the movement.
The second movement represents the “Silver Age” in which God has become all-powerful and created the four seasons, and man begins to become structured in his existence. The second movement is marked allegro e vivace and begins immediately with a motor rhythm in the upper strings which is then passed to the lower strings and winds. This motor rhythm conveys the sense of structure and forward movement described in Ovid’s “Silver Age.” The development shows great contrast in its exploration of minor tonalities and descending lines, and its use of only upper strings and winds, creating a somewhat icy feeling, suitable for winter, the third of the seasons. Again, the movement ends with a recapitulation of the theme, probably signaling the return of spring, culminating in a series of tonic arpeggios. For a movement depicting structure and order, Dittersdorf again chose to use the very standard and structured sonata form with a repeated exposition.
The third movement represents the “Bronze Age” in which man has discovered his violent side. The movement contrasts greatly by being entirely in the relative minor, giving weight to the sadness of the subject matter, and also in its use of the dotted-eight not followed by a sixteenth note rhythm present in some part through most of the movement. However, it is in minuet form and is therefore a dance movement, creating the strange irony of having violence depicted by a light, rhythmic dance. This comic irony gives the sense that this minuet movement is essentially being treated as what, by Beethoven’s time, will be a scherzo (Scherzo, Grove Music Online).
The final movement depicts the “Iron Age,” described by Ovid as an age in which greed and selfishness overtakes men and they go to war with each other to take the earth and exploit it for wealth. It is a time when all good is gone from the earth and evil reigns, and men cannot trust men. The movement opens with descending chromatic figure in the strings that become increasingly more rhythmic, leading to an announcement in the trumpet. The increasing rhythmic pattern returns, this time with timpani, and builds to a climax. This leads to a frenzied section with rapid ascending scales and offbeat rhythms in the violins. When the smoke clears, a new melodic theme is introduced by the upper strings and is then repeated with full orchestra with much more rhythmic intensity. In stark contrast with the second movement, the fourth movement depicts the violent fall of man and the loss of order. Man’s greed is an inescapable fate, shown by the accelerating rhythmic pattern that leads to the violent climax.
Dittersdorf’s Symphony No. 1 in C Major is a great programmatic work that exemplifies the elements of classical style. Melodies are simple, short, and tuneful, and we can hear contrast in dynamics and rhythms. For these reasons, in addition to the fact that it is a concise piece that holds the listener’s attention, I believe this piece should be included in the canon.
Bibliography
Grave, Margaret, Jay Lane. “Dittersdorf, Carl Ditters von.” In Grove Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.mnl.umkc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/07861(accessed January 24, 2009).
Ovid, Metamorphoses, ed. Brookes More. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
http://www.theoi.com/Text/OvidMetamorphoses1.html (accessed January 25, 2009).
Russell, Tilden A. “Scherzo.” In Grove Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.mnl.umkc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/24827 (accessed January 31, 2009).
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