Friday / October 3 / 7:30 pm
The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra
Pierre-Laurent Aimard, conductor/piano
Tamara Stefanovich, piano

CLAUDE DEBUSSY
b. 1862 in Saint Germain-en-Laye
d. 1918 in Paris
arr. HENRI BÜSSER
b. 1872 in Toulouse
d. 1973 in Paris

Petite Suite
The 1880s were interesting for Debussy. He gave lessons to the children of Nadezdha von Meck (Tchaikovsky’s mysterious patron), won the prestigious Prix de Rome, heard the Javanese gamelan at the Paris Exposition, and visited Bayreuth. In Bayreuth he heard Wagnerian opera for the first time, an experience that influenced some of his pieces. Wagner’s harmonic language and command of forms had an impact on Debussy, but he would ultimately reject the overt passion and emotion of the Wagnerian mold. Italian opera, which he heard while living in Rome, left him similarly unimpressed.

Debussy was struggling to find his own voice, and it was around this time that he wrote the Petite Suite for piano, four hands. Stylistically speaking, it was a departure from the complex, modernist pieces he had been writing. Instead, it is utterly accessible and melodic. Debussy’s publisher and collaborator, Jacques Durand, may have requested a work that could easily be played.

The orchestration of the version performed here was done by Henri Büsser, a French composer and conductor who studied with César Franck at the Paris Conservatory and served as musical secretary to Charles Gounod. Büsser had so impressed Debussy that he asked the young conductor to lead all the performances of his opera Pelléas and Mélisande.

The Petite Suite has four movements. En bateau (In a boat) is full of cascading, watery arpeggios and features a lovely, lyrical melody. It uses one of Debussy’s favorite constellations of pitches, the whole-tone scale. Cortège evokes a festive mood, almost majestic in some sections; Debussy uses dynamic contrasts to great effect here. Minuet is playful and colorful. Its lively figures fairly sparkle, and the movement ends far too soon. Debussy called the final movement Ballet, a fitting title for music that dances to an intense and enjoyable close.

 

OLIVIER MESSIAEN
b. 1908 in Avignon
d. 1992 in Clichy

Oiseaux exotiques (Exotic Birds)
Soon after his release from the German prison camp at Görlitz, Messiaen taught harmony at the Paris Conservatoire, where he continued to compose. He experimented with exotic new harmonies and with rhythms inspired by world music. He also turned his attention to the serious study and collection of birdsong. (At one point Messiaen placed birds above humans as the greatest music makers on earth.) Birdsong inspired reverence in Messiaen, and he transcribed it faithfully and used it nearly unchanged in his compositions for more than a decade.

The first work to draw entirely on birdsong was Reveil de oiseaux, which he wrote in 1953, followed a few years later by Oiseaux exotiques, or “exotic birds.” The birds in question are the ones Messiaen encountered in North America, South America, and Asia. In another work from 1963, he incorporates the songs of more than two dozen birds from Japan, even writing an official dedication to these Japanese birds.

Oiseaux exotiques is constructed in parts. There are a number of outer sections that alternate between the ensemble—a full complement of woodwinds, a trumpet, percussion, although there are no strings—and the solo piano. The musical material of the outer sections combines birdsong with newly composed music. In the center section of the work, Messiaen shifts his focus from birdsong to Greek and Hindu rhythms, played primarily by percussion instruments. The sections vary in both texture and color, and gradually grow in intensity and length. Oiseaux exotiques is not a long piece, but Messiaen included many different musical ideas in it. He dedicated the work to his wife, Yvonne Loriod, a pianist who played the piece at its premiere.

 

LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN
b. 1770 in Bonn
d. 1827 in Vienna

Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, op. 58
Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto, composed in 1805 and 1806, was dedicated to his patron and friend, Archduke Rudolph. However, we know he played it privately for another patron, Prince Lobkowitz, the year before its public premiere in 1808. The concerto appeared then on a massive program with Beethoven’s Fifth and Sixth symphonies, sections from the Mass in C major, a piano fantasia, and a concert aria. This concert was a financial disappointment for Beethoven, and the audience complained about everything from the temperature of the theater to the quality of the performances. Although it was favorably reviewed by some critics, the Concerto was somewhat lost among Beethoven’s other new works, and it remained so until the 1830s, when Felix Mendelssohn resurrected it. Pianists have historically held the work in high esteem, and many have written their own versions of the lengthy cadenzas. Famous fans of the work include Camille Saint-Saëns and Anton Rubenstein.

The Concerto in G major breaks with tradition of the conventional classical concerto and also Beethoven’s own style. Beethoven’s first three piano concertos display an effervescent brilliance marked by virtuosity. This concerto, on the other hand, is quieter and gentler. Beethoven has the same resources at his fingertips, yet he shows a mature restraint in using them. The soloist, likewise, never uses bombast to assert dominance, but instead relies on persistence and even sweetness.

The first movement is characterized by unusual chord shifts, a progression through many different keys, and a solo piano introduction that sounds almost improvisatory. The second movement has inspired some—early Beethoven biographer and fellow composer Franz Liszt among them—to hear in the music the story of Orpheus calming the Furies. There is no evidence that Beethoven had this in mind, but it is easy to hear the calming voice of the soloist against the restlessness of the orchestra. The final movement, a rondo, begins without pause. Its lyrical recurring theme is quick and lively. This tune is soon complemented by another animated theme. The movement plays out with spirited enthusiasm rather than brute force, and it caps a sometimes contemplative, sometimes serene, and sometimes bubbly concerto.

Program notes © 2008 Christine Lee Gengaro, PhD