silver ainomäe plays dvořák | program notes

MASTERWORKS • 2014/15

SILVER AINOMÄE PLAYS DVOŘÁKCOLORADO SYMPHONY ANDREW LITTON, conductor SILVER AINOMÄE, cello

Friday, November 21, 2014 at 7:30 pmSaturday, November 22, 2014 at 7:30 pmSunday, November 23 at 1:00 pmBoettcher Concert Hall

DVOŘÁK Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 Allegro Adagio ma non troppo Finale: Allegro moderato

—INTERMISSION—

RACHMANINOFF Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Op. 27 Largo – Allegro moderato Allegro molto Adagio Allegro vivace

FRIDAY’S CONCERT IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED TO ANYNOMOUS AND DONALD AND MARGERY LANGMUIR SATURDAY’S CONCERT IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED TO DAVID AND SUSAN SEITZ AND

MR. AND MRS. PAUL VOILLEQUÉ

PROGRAM 2 SOUNDINGS 2014/15 | COLORADOSYMPHONY.ORG

MASTERWORKS BIOGRAPHIES

ANDREW LITTON, conductor

Andrew Litton currently serves as Music Director of Norway’s Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, Music Director of the Colorado Symphony Orchestra in Denver, Artistic Director of the Minnesota Orchestra’s Sommerfest, and Conductor Laureate of Britain’s Bournemouth Symphony. He guest conducts the world’s leading orchestras and opera companies and has a discography of over 120 recordings with awards including America’s Grammy®, France’s Diapason d’Or, and many British and other honors. First appointed Bergen

Philharmonic Music Director in 2003, Litton will have the distinguished honor to celebrate the orchestra’s 250th Anniversary in 2015. It is one of the world’s longest established orchestras. In recognition of Litton’s achievements with the Bergen Philharmonic, Norway’s King Harald knighted Litton with the Royal Order of Merit. Under Litton’s leadership the Bergen Philharmonic has taken numerous tours, including debuts at the London BBC Proms and Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw, as well as appearances at Vienna’s Musikverein, Berlin’s Philharmonie, and New York’s Carnegie Hall - the capstone of its first American tour in 40 years. Litton and the Bergen Philharmonic record for the BIS and Hyperion labels, and have won extraordinary critical acclaim for their Mendelssohn, Stravinsky, and Prokofiev series. Andrew Litton, a graduate of the Fieldston School, New York, received his bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Juilliard in piano and conducting. The youngest-ever winner of the BBC International Conductors Competition, he served as Assistant Conductor at Teatro alla Scala and Exxon/Arts Endowment Assistant Conductor for the National Symphony under Rostropovich. His many honors in addition to Norway’s Royal Order of Merit include an honorary Doctorate from the University of Bournemouth, Yale University’s Sanford Medal, and the Elgar Society Medal.

SILVER AINOMÄE, cello

Appointed principal cello of the Colorado Symphony in 2009, Silver Ainomäe performed throughout Europe before moving to Denver. Ainomäe, who began his cello studies in 1988 at Tallinn Music High School in Estonia, recently worked as a freelance musician throughout Europe including positions as guest-leader of the Helsinki Philharmonic in Finland and work with London’s Philharmonia Orchestra. In 1992, at the age of 8, he moved from Estonia to Finland, where he pursued his musical training at Turku Conservatory with Jukka Perksalo and

at the Sibelius Academy with Hannu Kiiski and Arto Noras. In 2006/07 he continued his studies in London at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama and Razumovsky Academy with Oleg Kogan. Awards that he has received at national and international competitions include second prize at the International Competition for Young Cellists, main prize and four special prizes at the contest festival “Con Brio 2000,” first prize in the string category at the “Verdi Note” competition in Rome, fifth prize at Isang Yun International Music Competition in South Korea, third prize at Witold Lutosławski International Cello Competition in Poland (2005) and sixth prize at Paulo International Competition in Finland (2007). Additionally he has given recitals and performed as a chamber musician on numerous occasions throughout Europe.

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YOUR SYMPHONY ON YOUR TIME

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YOUR SYMPHONY ON YOUR TIME

Flex PassCONCERTS ON YOUR SCHEDULE

JUST PER CONCERT


MASTERWORKS PROGRAM NOTES

Antonín Dvořák: Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104The concerto is scored for solo cello, two flutes (2nd doubling piccolo), pairs of oboes, clarinets, and bassoons; three horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, triangle, and strings. Last performance by the orchestra was on December 2, 2009, with soloist Yo Yo Ma and Julian Kuerti conducting.

Completed in 1895, Dvořák’s cello concerto (actually his second for that instrument, but the first is an early work not nearly as popular as the second) was the last concerto that he composed. Concertos were not a favorite genre with him, notwithstanding his own ability as a public performer. The Violin Concerto in A minor and this cello concerto are concert favorites these days, but the few other concertos—or concerto-like—compositions play a minor role in his oeuvre.

Dvořák clearly thought of himself as a champion of Czech music, and he incorporated significant Czech musical, literary, and historical elements into his works. His Slavonic Rhapsodies, tone poems, operas, and songs—the list goes on and on—all are heavily infused with Czech melodies, linguistic inflections and characteristic rhythms, and national legends and stories. And it must be admitted that these essential elements of his artistic voice are near the core of his attractiveness to audiences worldwide—not just in his homeland. Yet, to focus inordinately on these elements would miss the mark in understanding the most important aspect of the nature of his music. In short, Dvořák was a clear adherent of the artistic thinking of those who emphasized classical forms and designs, integrated development of musical ideas, and in general, a restrained and balanced expression that placed strong emphasis on music as an abstract art. So he stood in the tradition of Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven (and later, Mendelssohn)—not with Wagner, Liszt, and their ilk.

As folks generally know, Dvořák spent most of the years from 1892 to 1895 in the United States, during which time several important works were composed, including his “New World” Symphony and the cello concerto. Notwithstanding, there is nothing of the “new world” in the latter; it’s totally rooted in Bohemia, composed for a friend, the important Czech cellist, Hanuš Wihan, who gave Dvořák pointers during its final preparation.

The first movement opens right away with one of the main themes, softly at first and then soon stentorian. The theme is passed around the orchestra, befitting the important role played by the entire orchestra in this concerto. It even includes trombones, and the whole of it is symphonic in conception from beginning to end. It doesn’t take long for the modulation to the usual secondary key, not reserved for the soloist, as is usual, but for the solo horn. When the solo cello does enter, it’s with the first theme. In a series of interchanges with the orchestra, the solo part grows in intensity that stems, not from empty virtuosity, but with a natural symphonic heft, the soloist being almost a member of the orchestra, but “first among equals.” The development marvelously builds on both the dark, energetic opening motif and the lyric horn theme in dramatic contrasts of mood and tempo--soloist and orchestra working together as partners. A lament by the solo cello eventually brings the recapitulation and the glorious horn melody, now played by all—the opening material having already had a going over. Dvořák soon returns to the main idea, though, to fashion a dramatic, vivacious coda.

The middle of the elegiac second movement features part of one of the composer’s own songs that was a favorite of his sister-in-law, Josefina, who was critically ill at the time. Josefina

SOUNDINGS 2014/15 | COLORADOSYMPHONY.ORG PROGRAM 5


had been his first love, but she rejected him, and he married her younger sister. His feelings come clear in the deep intensity and pathos of the movement, featuring rich horn passages, and rhapsodic, lightly accompanied solo cello ruminations, and a duet between the soloist and woodwinds.

The finale starts with a dark march-like theme, followed by new ideas--the whole built upon a restless alternation of them. Eventually, when we think the impressive work is finished, something unexpected happens. After Dvořák had returned to Bohemia, his sister-in-law succumbed, and the composer added a melancholy farewell to her at the end—more of the previous song, played by the solo violin. This caused a major rift with his soloist, Hanuš Wihan, who naturally wanted to end this virtuosic concerto with an impressive solo cadenza, but Dvořák was unrelenting. So, there is the tender tribute to his lost love in the peroration, followed by the inevitable triumph most seek—in so many ways.

oSergei Rachmaninoff: Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Op. 27The symphony is scored for three flutes (3rd doubling piccolo), three oboes (3rd doubling English horn), two clarinets and bass clarinet, two bassoons, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, and percussion. Last performance by the orchestra was on January 7 & 8, 2011, with Marin Alsop on the podium.

Normally, a “Symphony No. 2” implies a considered and thoughtful next step from the composition of a “Symphony No. 1.” But in the case of Rachmaninoff, it is somewhat of a minor miracle that he was able to muster the strength, courage and interest to produce a second effort in the genre after the debilitating and embarrassing debacle of that of the first. By the time of his graduation from the St. Petersburg Conservatory in 1892—winning a rare “Great Gold Medal”—he had completed his successful first piano concerto, a symphonic poem, and a highly praised opera. The evergreen Prelude in C# minor soon followed, along with a spate of other works. He composed easily and enthusiastically, and soon turned his attention to the composition of his first symphony, No. 1 in D minor, which received its première in March of 1897. It was a disaster of the first magnitude. Rachmaninoff’s efforts suffered from the conjunction of sound condemnation by the critics, a rag-tag performance owing to insufficient rehearsal, and a conductor, the eminent Alexander Glazunov, who not only was incompetent, but was also rumored to have been drunk on the podium. César Cui—not alone among the notable critics—compared the work to a symphony “based on the story of the Ten Plagues of Egypt,” from the “conservatory of Hell.” And that was one of the more moderate of his comments.

Rachmaninoff’s reaction was not immediate, but he soon fell into a debilitating loss of confidence as a composer, and more or less suffered a complete artistic collapse. He abandoned musical composition for about three years, and focused on his new responsibilities as a successful conductor of opera. He also continued to perform as an acclaimed pianist, but composition was clearly put on the back burner. Finally, he was convinced to consult a well-known psychotherapist who practiced therapeutic hypnosis. It is debated exactly what course of “treatment” Rachmaninoff underwent in his frequent meetings with the physician, but the



results were incontrovertible: he roused himself from his depression, discouragement, and general pessimism, and began composing again with remarkable results. During 1900 he began work on what is likely his most popular work, the Piano Concerto No. 2, and gave its première in the fall of 1901.

Other works soon followed, but composing was difficult owing to his busy and demanding career as opera conductor. In 1901 he married his first cousin, Natal’ya Satina, and became a father in 1903. Conducting at the Bolshoi was his focus until the social, economic and political troubles in Russia that culminated in the Revolution of 1905 led Rachmaninoff to remove to Dresden, where he lived on and off for several years. The relative peace and quiet there was propitious, for there he composed several major works, including the Symphony No. 2 in E minor. Composed during the years 1906-07, the symphony built upon many of the virtues of the ill-fated first symphony, and along with the Third Piano Concerto, which followed in 1909, exemplifies the mastery of the mature composer. The familiar lyric breadth of the Second Piano Concerto, the generation of melodic ideas from small kernels of motives, and the ample expansion of form all continue to form essential elements of his personal style.

The first movement, like the whole work, is a long one, and opens with a substantial introduction—it’s quite a while before the movement, proper, begins. As with the first symphony, the very first few notes (here in the low strings) contain a simple, but important melodic idea or “motto” that will appear in many guises throughout the work. Three rich chords in the woodwinds immediately respond to this little back-and-forth undulation—a marker that will reappear from time to time in important moments. The up and down undulation is gradually woven throughout the orchestra in a dark, mysterious texture that grows in intensity, but, more importantly, deliberately seems not to progress to a goal, but rather moves around meditatively—direction will come later. As the introduction builds, Rachmaninoff soon leads us through one of his signature and favorite passages: a strong, directed, harmonic progression along with a more defined melodic shape—it sounds complicated, but it’s easy to spot. Finally, the intensity of the familiar melodic undulations wanes and the solo English horn—echoing the opening notes—leads to a faster tempo, the beginning of the movement proper, and to the main tune, played by the violins. Taking his time, the composer expands the idea, and finally moves to the usual major key, introduced by clarinets. A winsome, throbbing theme follows, the exploration of which takes us eventually to the last tune. It’s a gently swaying affair, played in the cellos, and brings us to the end of the exposition. The development of the ample material that Rachmaninoff has presented is introduced by the clarinet section and a short violin solo-- and we’re off. The working out is a stormy and extensive one, with intimations of all of the ideas heard so far weaving in and out of the texture. Some soft brass chords echoing the woodwinds from the introduction signal the drive to the end of the section. Soon, brief “fanfare” pronouncements from the brass, which hitherto have been largely restrained, drive us forward. Finally the tumult subsides and quiet reigns as the violas and double reeds return to the familiar idea of the very beginning in the low strings. The composer quickly rounds out the movement by going directly to the major key and tune of the contrasting section from earlier on. This somewhat abbreviated return is balanced by a vigorous, driving coda—now back in the minor key--that takes us to the end of this substantial movement.

The following scherzo sparkles with the rhythmic drive and orchestration of an early influence, Rimsky-Korsakov. As is typical of scherzo movements, it is laid out in a broad arch form, the

SOUNDINGS 2014/15 | COLORADOSYMPHONY.ORG PROGRAM 7


end like the beginning, and with a contrasting middle. But within these two large distinct sections, Rachmaninoff has subdivided each into two further contrasting parts. It sounds a bit complicated, but in the event, is quite easy to follow. It all starts with a driving theme announced by the horn section—related in a way to the very opening motto of the symphony. After most, but not all, of the orchestra gets a chance with the lively material, the composer, as he is wont to do so often, slows it all down, and regales us with one of his signature lush, broadly romantic themes. It doesn’t last long, and the energetic opening motto cranks up the tempo again to end the first big section. The middle of the movement opens with a kind of jagged fugue that starts in the second violins, and works its way around the orchestra. Soon, in the second part of this middle section, the brass takes up a happy little processional march, with intimations of a chorale, which gradually and wryly disintegrates, leading into the return of the first main section that we heard in the horns. Finally, the little march with the brass chorales takes us nobly and quietly out.

The adagio is an apotheosis of Rachmaninoff’s signature ability to weave a rich and sustained movement of long, undulating melodies accompanied by brief “mottos” that tie it all together. The weft of contrapuntal textures and dark textures glides along with almost unparalleled lyricism, with one memorable tune after another. The main theme of the movement occurs after an opening bar or two, and most will recognize it, some will even remember the smash popular hit from the nineteen thirties based upon it. It doesn’t last long, but it will return in a big way. There then follows a stunning tune in the clarinet remarkable for its length, evolving constantly without repeat. After a long exploration of this material, the English horn offers a new, short theme, which, along with our familiar motto from the very beginning, provides material for a lengthy exploration by the full orchestra, eventually ending in a brief silence. Then the lovely familiar melody that opened the movement provides the basis of the opening of the final section, starting in the solo horn. It all gently and meditatively draws to a tranquil end, with the long, expressive clarinet solo from the beginning now in the strings, ending suggestively with one of the mottos.

The last movement is in—surprise!—an optimistic major key, and bursts out in an energetic Italianate tarantella. Soon, the timpani announces the arrival of a soft little march which in no time leads right back to the busy tarantella. The second main idea is again one Rachmaninoff’s signature expansive, lyrical tunes, ending finally in a brief, poignant allusion to the famous melody of the preceding movement. The development—which is not long--then plunges ahead with the tarantella, but ends spectacularly with a cascade of descending, carillon-like scales all over the place, fast and slow. The recapitulation brings back all of the previous themes—tarantella, march, lyric melody, bell scales, and elements from the previous movements. The composer weaves it all together in a marvel of thematic integration that belies his reputation as just a “big tune” romantic. All that remains is the inevitable quick scamper to the end.

Rachmaninoff’s reputation suffered greatly in the last century at the hands of many intellectuals who sneered at his hopelessly passé effusive romanticism. They foolishly ignored his brilliant thematic integration, formal innovations, and profound imagination. The tables have thankfully turned, and we are all the better for it.

—Wm. E. Runyan© 2014 William E. Runyan

ALL BEETHOVEN

DEC 5-7 FRI-SAT 7:30 ■ SUN 1:00Jun Märkl, conductor

Jeffrey Kahane, piano

Beethoven Overture to Fidelio, Op. 72

Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 5 in

E-fl at major, Op. 73, “Emperor”

Beethoven Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67

silver ainomäe plays dvořák | program notes

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