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Amit Peled, Cello

Amit Peled, cello

Program

Invitation to the DanceCarl Maria von Weber

Cello ConcertoRobert Schumann
   Amit Peled, cello

Intermezzo op. 118 #2 and Rhapsody op. 117 #4Johannes Brahms

Symphony No. 1, in D Major, Opus 25 (“Classical”)Sergei Prokofiev

Program Notes

Invitation to the Dance, Opus 65Carl Maria von Weber (1786-1826)

The Invitation to the Dance was composed to be a gift for Caroline, the composer’s new bride of only a few months. It was written for piano, and its original title was “rondeau brilliant,” meaning that after a slow and relatively dramatic introduction, the main theme appears several times, with contrasting themes alternating between the reprieves. The Invitation was composed while Weber was working on his opera, Der Freischutz, and what is particularly interesting is that although the music was created as a waltz, it was not meant for dancing, but rather for listening. Weber even created a program for the music: a man inviting the lady to dance, her evasive reply, his request again, etc. And, as one listens to the introduction, s/he can readily hear first the lower, more “masculine” phrase – the man – followed by the higher, lighter “feminine” reply – the lady. So, in fact, it was a concert waltz that was also a conversation, something new to the times.

The Invitation to the Dance is probably best known to today’s concert audiences because of the brilliant orchestration by Hector Berlioz. The Sinfonia of course does not have the number of players or the variety of instruments to play that version, so working from the original piano part, I took the liberty to create a smaller scale, but hopefully just as colorful and fun, version for the Sinfonia and its audiences. jf



Cello Concerto in a minor, Opus 129Robert Schumann (1810-1856)

Compared to the piano or violin, there are precious few “major” concertos for cello in the repertoire. Two each by Haydn and Saint-Saëns (only the first is really played with frequency), and one each by Dvorak, Elgar and Schumann, are the most prominent and often performed. Schumann’s concerto was composed during a two-week period in 1850, but it was not published until four years later, and first performed six years after that. The work is somewhat unusual in that it was first conceived as a concert piece for solo cello and orchestra, meaning that it would have a balanced approach between the solo cello and the orchestra, as opposed to the more typical solo/accompaniment format for most other concertos. The three-movement work is played without a break (similar to Mendelssohn’s e minor violin concerto), and the opening cello theme appears in the second movement being played by the woodwinds. Schumann wrote the cadenza in the third movement, and contrary to tradition, it is accompanied by the orchestra. jf



Intermezzo op. 118, #2 and Rhapsody, op. 119 #4Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)

Johannes Brahms was deeply rooted in the classical traditions of his predecessors, Mozart, Haydn and Beethoven. In a letter he wrote, “If we cannot compose as beautifully as Mozart and Haydn, let us at least try to compose as purely.” On another occasion, while working on his First Symphony (at the late age of forty-three), he wrote, “You have no idea what it is to hear the tromp of a genius over your shoulder.” Later, when someone pointed out the similarity between the theme of this symphony’s last movement and Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, he responded, “any fool can see that.”

Johannes Brahms lived during tumultuous times, as contemporary music was in a state of flux. The music world was dividing into two camps: those favoring the music of Richard Wagner, and his stretching of harmonies to the point of destroying tonality; and the others, who were more circumspect in their thinking. In most respects, Brahms was in the latter camp, but when looking at this division, it is helpful to see it in an historical context. One should recognize that as most composers grow older and mature, they expand their harmonic languages. One need only compare Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony with his earlier opuses, or better still, Beethoven’s early output to his late string quartets, to recognize these changes.

Brahms, like his idols, also pushed some of the boundaries. In a few of the piano intermezzi (various opuses) there are tonal ambiguities and such extensive counterpoint that tonal centers are nearly obscured. No less of a composer and theorist than Arnold Schoenberg noted these advances and wrote of Brahms’ forward harmonic thinking, and of the implications of his use of “stretching” the harmonic boundaries. And, as is so often the case, there are no steadfast rules or regulations between opposing sides, and each individual musician must be judged on his or her own particular merits.

The opus 119 contains some of Brahms’ last piano works. The pieces are short and intimate, and in many respects are both an homage to an era that has ended, and in their own way a glimpse towards the future. I found that three of the four intermezzi (the last movement of the set is a rhapsody) worked well for the Sinfonia instrumentation, and I added a fourth intermezzo from the opus 118 (the only one that I ever attempted to play) to round out the set.

Most of the romantic composers did not write much for chamber orchestra; Brahms, aside from his two early serenades, composed none that I know of. Consequently, there is a shortage of music from that era in the chamber orchestra repertoire. By creating this and a few other arrangements of romantic composers, I have hopes of adding to that repertoire, and at the same time, introducing our audiences to some wonderful music, albeit in a slightly different format from its origins. jf



Symphony No. 1, in D Major, Opus 25 (“Classical”)Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953)

The year 1917, when this symphony was created, saw great strife in Russia. The Revolution had deposed the Tsar and installed the Bolsheviks to power. On the international front, Russia was losing its war against Germany and Austria. It was during these very difficult and stressful times that Sergei Prokofiev created what was to become one of his most endearing works – his first symphony.

Prokofiev had already composed two piano concertos, the second of which created an uproar with its expansive emotional and dramatic outbursts. The symphony was an immediate and remarkable change with its references to forms and dances of the 18th century, its lightheartedness and satirical moments, and its very typical four classical movement format. But with all of these nods to the past, Prokofiev put a very special “modern” stamp on the music. It was his use of harmonic structure, and unusual pairing of key signatures, that not only differentiated this work from its model, but also gave the music a refreshing sound that has lasted for 100 years.

Prokofiev generally composed at the piano, which of course was great for his piano works, but often created awkward and unsettling passages and phrasing issues for other instrumentalists. Perhaps the best explanation of his thoughts about the way he conceived and composed the symphony can be gained from his own descriptions, taken from his autobiography:

I spent the summer of 1917 in the country near Petrograd all alone, reading Kant [a famous and difficult to understand philosopher] and composing. I deliberately did not take my piano. I had noticed that orchestral thematic material composed without the piano was often better in quality So this was how the project of writing a symphony in the style of Haydn came about…it seemed it would be easier to dive into the deep waters of writing without the piano if I worked in a familiar setting.

It seemed to me that if Haydn had lived in our day he would have retained his own style while accepting something of the new at the same time. That’s the kind of symphony I wanted to compose. When I saw that the idea was beginning to work, I called it ‘Classical Symphony’… for several reasons: first, it was easy; secondly, out of naughtiness and a desire to ‘tease the geese’, secretly hoping that in the end I would have my way if the title ‘Classical’ stuck… I composed much of it during long walks, although the third movement, the Gavotte, had actually been written a good deal earlier. I had also written an earlier version of the finale but crossed that out and wrote an entirely new one, endeavoring among other things to avoid all minor chords.

As a footnote, he did not succeed in eliminating all of the minor chords. jf