Tag Archives: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Itzhak Perlman & Friends, Nov. 10, 2024

Itzhak Perlman & Friends: It was the Top of musical performance. Itzhak Perlman is the great violinist who is also the Great Human. He clearly loves to make each note, they are always perfect, and loving the music is the same as his love of the audience. The audience feels that in each note that they hear and absorb. If you are Itzhak Perlman, your friends are breath taking artists, too. In this phenomenal performance his friends were two of the world’s greatest pianists, Emanuel Ax and Jean-Ives Thibaudet, and the Juilliard String Quartet. This is a new generation Juilliard String Quartet. Bringing these gifted musicians onto the stage to make music with Perlman expands his repertory possibilities.

Itzhak Perlman, Violinist, humanitarian, mentor, founder of the Perlman Music Program which mentors “gifted young string players.”

The program presented two works from the 18th century: Sonata for Two Violins in E minor, Opus 3, no. 5, by Jean-Marie Leclair, written ca. 1734; and Piano Quartet inE-flat major, K.493, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, written 1786. A 19th century masterpiece filled the second half of the program: Concert in D major, Opus 21, by Ernest Chausson, written in 1889-91. What is the main thing these three compositions have in common? Each piece is amongst the most difficult of its kind.

Areta Zhulla, Violinist, first violin of the Juilliard String Quartet

Jean-Marie Leclair, composer (1697 – 1764)*

Leclair left his home in Lyon to publish his compositions of violin sonatas. In Lyon, he became a master of the violin, dancing, and lace-making, a thorough artist. In Paris, his violin compositions were praised with one slight problem; they were so hard to play. A writer of Leclair’s time called them “a sort of musical algebra capable of rebuffing the most courageous of musicians.” The duet performance by Areta Zhulla and Itzhak Perlman was dazzling. I especially admired the way the music weaved between each violin. There would be a place where one violin would find a place to enter and play into, with, or around the other one.  !8th century dances had intricate patterns; sometimes it is the music that follows the dance. As a dance master, he would have the music in his body. Now that I know he was a lace-maker, I feel sure that the design of the music and the playing of the violins were tracing movements of the needle and thread in and out to make a challenging, mathematical, beauty. It is there physical to touch in lace, audible and seen in the playing of the music.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, composer (1756 – 1791)*

Emanuel Ax, pianist

Mozart’s Piano Quartet in E-flat major, K. 493 was a stunning marvel. The musicians are perfection, a word I rarely use. I have loved this particular quartet for a long time. I went to Tower Records – I did say a long time ago – in North Beach and read through album covers. I chose a record  (stop laughing) of Mozart’s quartets. When I heard the opening notes of this performance, I felt myself smile all over. The performers were truly perfection: Itzhak Perlman, violin; Molly Carr, viola; Astrid Schween, ‘cello; Emanuel Ax, piano. When Mozart had a publishing deal for three quartets, the publisher paid Mozart not to compose more. In fact, the publisher thought the first piano quartet was not well received. Fortunately for Mozart and all of us, he had finished the second Piano Quartet. It must have been a very good time for Mozart’s composing as this work entered Mozart’s catalogue just after the Marriage of Figaro. Although its brilliance was obvious, this Quartet was too difficult. A writer for a German journal wrote this: “Many another piece keeps some countenance, even when indifferently performed; but, in truth one can hardly bear listening to this product of Mozart’s when it falls into mediocre amateurish hands and is negligently played.” The performance I heard kept me on the edge of the seat. It is lush, sometimes mysterious with changing rhythms, and a fascinating exchange among the players. Is it possible to translate musical talk to spoken English? No, that is why it is music. The final movement features the pianist and first violin. What an experience to hear this from them.

Jean-Ives Thibaudet, Pianist

Ernest Chausson, composer (1855 – 1899)*

Chausson’s  Concert in D major, Opus 21 is powerful and full of wonders. Concert is not a typo; it is a name for chamber music in the late 18th c. I knew his name, may have heard other pieces and may have not. Surely, I had never heard this. It is a gigantic and altogether successful creation performed by Itzhak Perlman, violin; Jean-Ives Thibaudet, piano; and the Juilliard Quartet. The music pays attention to the combinations that are well knit for all six instruments becoming one while each is heard. James M. Keller cites Chausson’s mentoring by Caesar Franck, and yet this work is still Chausson’s. Each of the four movements – Decide, Sicillienne, Grave, and Finale – added drama and character with their strong presence. The Sicillienne is beautiful in its sweeping lyricism. Grave lowers one’s feelings to a mysterious sense of loss. The energetic Finale reminds the listener of the themes of all three that came before. This listener felt her eyes open wide at the sensational Thibaudet playing precisely and powerfully. He was brilliant; Perlman was brilliant. Having both together made me want to jump up and down, but I only stood and applauded like the entire audience kept doing for many curtain calls. Many. I thought I would count, but I gave up. All six of the performers joined in an extraordinary encore and more bows and applause. Someone turned the lights back on, and, reluctantly we got the message that we had to go home.

*These composers share dreadful and inexplicable deaths. I am inserting this here so that it will not be the sad subject at the end of this post. No interpretation of the deaths from me. Jean-Marie Leclair was murdered. He lived in a bad neighborhood. He had been stabbed three times and was found in a pool of blood. It is still an open case in Paris. Three suspects: his gardener found the body; his nephew wanted Leclair to help him become a violinist but Leclair did not; Louise, an ex-wife who inherited his estate and sold off his property. Mozart died of illness; there are more than 100 theories of how he died. Chausson was trying out the new gizmo: a bicycle. He lost control of the bike, ran into a brick wall, cracked his skull. Imagine that each one would have composed more wonderful music; I am grateful for what I heard.

 

Daniil Trifonov Lights Up Davies Symphony Hall

Daniil Trifonov lit up Davies Symphony Hall, Nov. 19, San Francisco. The audience was fascinated by his playing and only a few minutes into Rameau’s Suite in A minor, RCT 5 (1729/30), we were all transfixed. The program itself was a jewel: Rameau, Mozart’s Piano Sonata No.12 in F major, K.332 (300k) (ca. 1783), Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Opus 54 (1841), Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 29 in-B flat major, Opus 106, Hammerklavier (1818).

The selections were not random choices from famous composers. Each piece had special challenges for the pianist and brought unique charm and glory for the listeners.

The program was not only about the majestic music. All of these great composers were also great musicians, especially as pianists. Daniil Trifonov was playing the music which was made by and played by the best. He meets their music and brings his understanding to its complex beauties. He also plays on their level. He is there with the top seeded players. They know their game. Each one in his own way recreated playing. The program is an encounter of great pianists through nearly four centuries.

Jean-Philippe Rameau, Composer (1683-1764)

Jean-Philippe Rameau, Suite in A minor, RCT 5 (1729/30) has seven parts: Allemande, Courante, Sarabande, Les Trois Mains, Fanfarinette, La Triomphante, Gavotte et ses Doubles. The first three are named for the dances popular for 17th century composers, like JS Bach. They create a serious environment. This is for harpsichord virtuosi ready to play the multiple sounds of their tradition. However, with Trifonov at the keyboard, these have an enchanting delicacy. The next four parts are “character” music rather than from the dance forms. Les Trois Mains calls upon the pianist to move arms and hands as though he has a third hand, at least a third hand. Fanfarinette, a “small braggart,” teases the listener to follow the music. La Triomphate is bolder. The Gavotte conclusion branches into six complex variations all with transparent sounds of the main theme. James M. Keller writes that this piece may show that Rameau kept up with Handel’s developments and plays can-you-top-this. Handel had five variations, but Rameau has six. The fast, occasionally explosive, thoughtful music ends by drifting away. Other selections on the program also end with sound disappearing, gently, but in the outskirts of sadness.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote three piano sonatas between July and November, 1783, all published in Vienna. The Piano Sonata in F-major apparently is the last of the group. While it begins with a relatively quiet, inward facing Allegro, it grows and puts forth melodies that have dramatic qualities. The second movement, an Adagio, also begins in an understated way which becomes full of expression without abandoning Classical restraint. The closing movement, Allegro assai tosses its hat and flings surprises to the audience. Just when the listener thinks she knows how the composer is feeling about music and life, he turns on a dime and releases astonishing changes of direction. The fascination stops short of hypnotic due to the excitement which Mozart creates and delivers without any hints or preparation. Despite the energy of the movement, this music also quietly evaporates.

Felix Mendelssohn, composer (1809-1847)

Felix Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Opus 54, is mind opening music. One may not take a break from listening; so much is happening in the brilliant piece. Yosemite Falls is a wonder. After rain or snow melt, the unbelievable happens: Yosemite Falls becomes even more impressive and inspiring. Mendelssohn’s twelve minute work is the musical Falls at its greatest. The fast rhythms become faster, daring the pianist and challenging the listener’s attention to sound. From sixteenth notes in the first variation, he moves to sextuplets, (Un poco piu animato –a little more animated)). Next there are staccato notes (Piu animato). More variations all filled by not one marvel of variation but it seems at least two at a time He finds syncopation, expressive passages; how many variations? eighteen. Each one is deeper in musical life developed and bursting with fire. Imagination on top of rhythm is woven into Time escaping, shaped by the composer’s call for poco a poco piu animato (little by little livelier and livelier). The super liveliness has seized Time, wound it higher into spirals of musical life which the composer, being an honest genius, then allows us to hear Time die away. It is another ending which drifts away like smoke, untraceable as life.

Daniil Trifonov, pianist

Through out the concert, Trifonov played with power, finesse, astounding speed, and still has ,heart left for expression. Part demon, part angel. He delicately caressed the keys in the Rameau as though he was bringing an inanimate thing to life. He may have channeled Mozart himself in the sonata. Trifonov did not shy away from taking Mozart’s Piano Sonata in F major that begins quietly into soaring, airborne changes of direction or altitude. As Rameau’s music was first for the harpsichord, could one state he was a master of the keyboards? I can imagine he was or he would not have written the Suite in A Minor. Both Mozart and Mendelssohn were known as master pianists, perhaps at a level above mere masters. Clara Schumann, renown as the star pianist of Europe before her marriage, wrote about Mendelssohn: “When all is said and done, he remains, for me, the most cherished pianist of all.”

Ludwig Van Beethoven, composer (1770-1827)

Now, there is the Hammerklavier. Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 29 in B-flat major is a world of mystery. Many consider it the most technically challenging of Beethoven’s piano sonatas; it is the longest, too. Its emotional life extends so far as one hears and feels in King Lear or experiences in an entire life. This writer/listener waited to write this brief account until she could listen to it again. The first movement, Allegro, is troubled, seems to dive into knots of thick ropes, climbs out, and then falls into more impediments: quick sand, rocky rubble, water that is deeper than it looks. Then, he, maybe it, stands up. The music finds him in a Scherzo which brightens the mood. It tries to play tricks on him, makes him jump over fallen branches, but he makes his way. It is not a jolly Scherzo, but it is Assai vivace (lively, vivacious enough) and travels away from the trials of the first movement Allegro. The third movement is a bleak ending though in the middle of the sonata’s life. Beethoven describes it Adagio sostenuto: Appassionato e con molto sentimento. It is sustained grieving, deeply felt and sounds like it cannot move forward, though this is the longest movement of any in Beethoven’s sonatas. It is nearly hopeless. It is nearly a prison cell without a window. It is beautiful but does not allow physical movement as imagined in the preceding movements. Feeling the passion of the Adagio, Beethoven will not abandon us, his listeners, or the spirit of his music. The final movement, Largo—Allegro risoluto (Fugo a tre voci) breaks away from the struggles, tricks, and grief of the other movements. Without an introduction we could notice, it leaps before us. Now there are windows and even a way into a garden. The music pays no more attention to the rigid ties it has left. How did it escape? It just took a step and, elated, revels in freedom.

The program began with Rameau’s Suite in A minor which includes Les Trois Mains and ends with Beethoven’s Fugo a tre voci, a fugue with three voices. The movement of hands and arms is so quick, crossing over, fingers flying that is looks like there must be more than two hands. The music is different, but supreme artists of the keyboard meet in their technique in this program. Rameau’s father was an organist; our composer, Rameau, was a music theorist and a professional organist until he was 49.

Mozart’s father was a violinist and “minor” composer. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart began to compose at age 5, beginning with the harpsichord. He was acknowledged to be one of the best pianists in Europe. Mendelssohn was a child prodigy, similar to Mozart. He showed ability very early and took his first piano lessons from his mother, Lea Solomon Mendelssohn. His intellectual achievements in language and drawing led to the twelve year old Felix meeting Goethe; they became friends. In this program, Daniil Trifonov has had an intimate conversation with great pianists. The audience has heard and seen a very great artist of our time.

The performance could not end. The audience, amazed by all it had heard, would not stop applauding until Trifonov gave them more. There were two encores, each a splendidly original choice, and each one by a uniquely great pianist. The first was I Cover the Waterfront, written by Johnny Green & Edward Heyman, and as played by Art Tatum.

Art Tatum, pianist

Art Tatum was an astonishing pianist. His improvisations do everything; they will insert a new chord on each beat within one or two measures. Great pianists like Oscar Peterson and Bud Powell acknowledge Tatum’s influence. Few modern pianists would not adopt at least one of his “embellishments,” cascades of notes, rhythmic spurts, or weaving in and out of tempo. His “re-harmonization” of pop tunes became a regular practice among jazz musicians. This listener’s ears perked up when hearing the jazz sound of pop music from America’s ‘30s and 40s. Trifonov elegantly put on Art Tatum’s mantle. Fascination with the jazz chords and piling on of sounds took over.

Alexander Scriabin, composer (1872-1914)

More applause by the thrilled and greedy audience brought Trifonov back to play Scriabin’s Piano Sonata #3, the slow movement. Scriabin is known for his unique composition style now, but in the late 19th and early 20th centuries he was equally known as a virtuoso pianist. He performed in every important hall through Europe. One of his innovations was novel pedal effects. Trifonov brought Scriabin back as one of the greatest virtuoso pianists. Cheers for Trifonov’s presentation of the works of the towering pianists who came before him. The encores were a fitting homage to Tatum and Scriabin. Trifonov’s playing honored them all.

AMADEUS: Movie of Mozart with SF Symphony

Near the end of Amadeus, the award winning movie from 1984 which was presented by the San Francisco Symphony, April 6 & 7, with the SF Symphony present playing the film’s score and the SFS Chorus present performing the vocal music, there is a moment when a coffin is lifted out of a coach. As men walk forward carrying the coffin, the viewer noticed the coffin’s smaller end flap open and shut. Something was wrong with this picture. The coffin is tipped, a bundle covered in white cloth slides out; it lands on a pile of other bundles in a big ditch. That bundle was the body of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Mozart (1756-1791) painted by Johann Nepomuk della Croce

Dead at age 35, Mozart’s celestial music goes on.

This is a painful, gorgeous movie. Seeing it with live music accompaniment was a great benefit as hearing the music created in the  moment made Mozart’s life’s work all the more real. The SFS Chorus had provided the vocal music in the film, another plus to the movie/live music experience. Conductor Constantine Kitsopoulos, the Symphony, Chorus, Choral Director Ragnar Bohlin all deserved the continuing cheers of the audience. “Wolfie,” as his wife Constanze calls him in the movie, wrote more than 600 works. That’s right, 600 works of perfect beauty; turn off the computer, now ( when you finish this short article is ok, too.)

Tom Hulce enacted Mozart in Amadeus

Tom Hulce’s performance as the “loved by God” composer is breathtaking. He has the outrageous giggle, bawdiness, conscience-free, child-like behavior and the focused concentration of a true genius when at work. F. Murray Abraham as Antonio Salieri, the competitive, court composer devoured by jealousy, captures the many sides of a man capable of appreciating how extraordinary Mozart’s music is and still wanting to destroy him. Both actors were nominated for Best Actor Academy Awards; that time Salieri won.

F. Murray Abraham as Salieri in Amadeus

The movie is so powerful that it is difficult to remind oneself that this is fiction based on some historical fact and a lot of historical rumor. No one can know what caused Mozart’s death. His grave was not marked; there is no hope for posthumous analysis. Renal failure is one interpretation, but more than one hundred explanations have been given. The rumor that Salieri poisoned Mozart was alive and well long after both composers were gone. In 1830, Alexander Pushkin, the great Russian author, wrote a play based on the rumor. The movie is based on the play by Peter Shaffer who drew on Pushkin’s work.

The movie plus live music phenomenon is made possible by a fancy computer rig. One  could see the laptop on the Conductor’s podium. There was a pulsing, large, white dot and different lines which seemed to coordinate the entrances for music and chorus. Timing is everything. The live participants must not be even a nano-second early or late as the dialogue and some on-the-film music go on. It is a wonder. The 2018-2019 season offers films such as Jurassic Park and Mary Poppins with live music.

The problem with the rumor is that it is so believable. Artistic rivalry and deadly jealousy, not so surprising as one might wish. The audience experiences the suffering of a man who was, as the play’s Salieri sees, composing as though angels dictated to him. The loss of what more music he might have created is impossible to measure. Redwoods killed by drought, right whales going extinct, children made asthmatic by air pollution: all those losses of life and liveliness and the loss of Mozart himself. Humans got lucky that he was here at all. What if, after its few productions Don Giovanni had simply disappeared? We would all be less than we could be and not know it.