Program Notes
by Martin Pearlman
HANDEL's Messiah
December 7 & 8, 2024
One of the special challenges in performing Messiah year after year is to keep the work sounding fresh, as if one had just discovered it. When Boston Baroque gave the first Boston period-instrument performances of the complete oratorio in 1981, the work was still normally heard in this country in the relatively heavy, reverential style of the nineteenth century. It was thus a surprise to many listeners to hear a more detailed, articulate style and quicker tempos based on Baroque dance rhythms and speech patterns. This kind of performance was perhaps less in the spirit of church music—Handel never performed Messiah in a church—and more in the spirit of the theater, or of a “fine Entertainment,” as Handel’s librettist Charles Jennens called it.
Today, such an interpretation is much more common among both period and modern orchestras, and it is no longer surprising. Instead, a listener can focus on the drama of the work and how a particular performance presents it. I personally have found it satisfying to return to the work each year not so much to perform different versions of it or to consciously try to do something “different,” but rather to discover more details and greater depth in the music. For me, that is what makes it perpetually “new.” A work such as Messiah is inexhaustible.
“SPEAKING” AND “SINGING” MUSIC
The chorus has the greatest role of any actor in Messiah. Its music constantly shifts between a kind of “speaking” music, which declaims speech patterns in the text, and a more lyrical “singing” music. Much as dance rhythms can influence the tempo and character of a piece, the speech patterns of the text can often suggest a natural tempo. But “speaking” music is not only rhythmic; it also has very flexible, detailed dynamics, as in actual speech, where the sound of even a single syllable may sometimes die away. A more powerful type of spoken declamation often comes at climactic moments, such as at the words “Wonderful, counselor” in the chorus
“For unto us a child is born.” The playing of the orchestra too reflects the rhythmic quality and detailed dynamics of the speech patterns in the text, an effect more easily achieved on Baroque than on modern instruments.
THE LIBRETTO AND THE DRAMA
In creating his libretto, Charles Jennens interspersed texts from both the Old Testament prophets and the New Testament, frequently using metaphor—rarely narrative—to depict in a general way the story of the Messiah. Although the oratorio is primarily contemplative, with no speaking characters and hardly any action, it does fall into several dramatic scenes, which demand a degree of continuity between movements in performance. The first scene, running from the overture through the chorus “For unto us a child is born,” prefigures the arrival of the Messiah. The second opens with an instrumental interlude depicting the shepherds’ pipes (Pifa) and the angel announcing the birth of Jesus; it is the only true narrative moment in the oratorio and ends with the angels slowly disappearing as the music fades away. Part I concludes with rejoicing.
Part II falls into two large scenes, the first reflecting on the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus, and the second depicting the spread of the Gospel. Part III is a section of contemplation and thanksgiving, based on the Anglican burial service.
In places, these scenes are unified by recurring figuration in the music: the sharp, dotted rhythms representing the scourging of Jesus in Part II first appear in the middle section of the aria “He was despised”, then again in the following chorus (“Surely, he hath borne our griefs”), and yet again in the recitative (“All they that see him laugh him to scorn”). Sometimes scenes are unified by pieces in related tempos or in similar affects. An example of the latter occurs at the end of Part II, where a string of violent images (“Why do the nations so furiously rage together”, “Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron”) is crowned with the chorus “Hallelujah.” In this context, “Hallelujah” becomes not only a shout of joy but also something of a war cry.
HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
When Charles Jennens presented Handel with his text for Messiah in 1741, Handel’s fortunes were so low that he was considering leaving England. Several years earlier, his opera company had collapsed, and he had suffered a stroke. In the years following his recovery, he had had great success with two English oratorios (Saul and L’Allegro), but his two Italian operas had been complete failures. With the fashion for Italian opera apparently over, Jennens hoped to persuade Handel to return to writing English oratorios.
In the summer of 1741 came a fortuitous invitation to give a series of concerts in Dublin. With these concerts in mind, Handel set to work on the music for Messiah on August 22, completing the enormous work on September 14, a mere three weeks later. Jennens, never one to be overly modest, expressed disappointment that Handel had not spent a year setting his libretto. “[Handel] has made a fine Entertainment of it, tho’ not near so good as he might & ought to have done. I have with great difficulty made him correct some of the grossest faults in the composition, but he retain’d his Overture obstinately, in which there are some passages far unworthy of Handel, but much more unworthy of the Messiah.”
Messiah was premiered on April 13, 1742 in Dublin for the benefit of charity and drew so many people that ladies were requested not to wear hoops, in order to accommodate a larger audience. The series of concerts was a triumph. According to Faulkner’s Journal, “The best judges allowed it to be the most finished piece of Musick. Words are wanting to express the exquisite Delight it afforded to the admiring crowded Audience.”
But Handel was wary about presenting his new oratorio in London. Several years earlier, Israel in Egypt had failed, partly due to a controversy over using a biblical text in the theater. When he did finally introduce Messiah there in 1743, it was not well received, partly indeed because of its biblical text, but also partly because there were too many choruses and no characters playing out a story. The work did not become widely accepted until Handel began presenting it in his annual charity performances for the Foundling Hospital in 1750. Between that time and Handel’s death in 1759, Messiah attained the exalted stature it has held to the present day, a musical tradition unparalleled in the English-speaking world.
PERFORMING VERSION
In Messiah, as in many of his other works, Handel made numerous changes for later performances. Many of these changes were made simply to accommodate a new singer, such as changing an aria from one voice range to another, and do not necessarily reflect his final preference for how a movement ought to go. Other changes, however, appear to be attempts to improve the work and must be taken into account in a modern performance. There is no definitive version. A modern performer must look at the various versions presented in the different manuscripts (sometimes there is more than one version in the same manuscript), try to understand the reasons for the changes, and make decisions about the best version to use.
Handel’s autograph score survives, and, while it contains the original version of the work, he seems to have changed his mind about certain pieces even before the first performance. At least as important as the autograph is a score which Handel apparently used in Dublin and in certain later performances. It is in the hand of Handel’s copyist, but Handel himself has made many changes and marginal notes, including writing in names of singers. A third important version is a manuscript, again by a copyist, bequeathed by Handel in his will to the Foundling Hospital, for which he had given benefit concerts. This Foundling Hospital score appears never to have been used, but with it there is a valuable set of orchestral and vocal parts which formed the basis for many of his later performances. There are other sources, but these three—the autograph, Dublin and Foundling Hospital—have the greatest authority from Handel’s own performances. Our performance this evening is based on the Dublin score, the one used for the first performances, and it incorporates Handel’s later corrections in that score.
ABOUT STANDING DURING “HALLELUJAH”
Over the years, many people have asked us about the tradition of the audience standing up for the “Hallelujah” chorus. Some people, citing concerts at which they were asked not to stand, have thanked us for allowing them to follow tradition. Others have expressed dismay at seeing the audience get to its feet, blocking their view of the stage, and felt pressured to join in. In the middle have been some who are unsure whether to stand or to remain seated.
The custom of standing comes from after Handel’s time, when Messiah—and particularly “Hallelujah”—was treated more as a cultural icon than as a piece of music. There is certainly no historical reason to stand, but then we do not require our audiences to put on historical performances. The performances are for your pleasure and we would encourage you to sit or to stand as you wish, and enjoy the glorious music that closes Part II of Messiah.
Program Notes
by Martin Pearlman
Mozart’s Requiem and Symphony No. 40
October 22, 2017
MOZART, Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550
This well loved symphony dates from the summer of 1788. It was a time when Mozart's public career and personal finances were faltering, and he had only recently suffered the death of a baby daughter. Nonetheless, it was an unusually productive year for his composing, with thirty new entries in his catalogue of works. Don Giovanni, written the previous year, was produced in Vienna in May of 1788, and in June he began work on his final trilogy of symphonies, of which this is the second, completing all three in less than two months.
This G minor symphony was already popular and highly esteemed by the early 19th century, due not only to its brilliant writing but also, no doubt, to its "romantic" qualities, among them its unusually quiet and agitated opening and the dark color of its minor key. (It was one of only two Mozart symphonies written in minor.)
Mozart later revised the wind parts of this symphony to add clarinets. Our performance today is of the more lightly scored original version.
MOZART, Exsultate, jubilate, K. 165
Mozart was 16 years old when he composed his best known solo motet, Exsultate, jubilate. The three-movement work, a favorite show piece for sopranos today, was originally written for a castrato. Boston Baroque's 2010 recording of it for Telarc thus featured a male soprano.
The famous soprano castrato Venanzio Rauzzini, for whom it was composed, had been a principal at the opera in Vienna for several years and served at the electoral court in Bavaria. Mozart had come to know him in Milan, when he was hired to sing the premiere of the young composer's opera Lucio Silla. Mozart then went on to write Exsultate, jubilate for him a month later, in January of 1773.
In the following year, Rauzzini moved permanently to England and established himself in 1777 at Bath, where he lived for the remainder of his life. There he directed a concert series, sang, composed a great deal of music, and became the esteemed teacher of many fine singers, among them Nancy Storace and Michael Kelly, both of whom later worked with Mozart in Vienna. One contemporary journal called him "the father of a new style in English singing." In 1794, he was visited at his home by Haydn, who, seeing Rauzzini's bereavement at the loss of his beloved dog Turk, composed a canon setting the words on Turk's tombstone. A portrait of Rauzzini with his dog hangs in the Holburne Museum of Art in Bath.
MOZART, Requiem in D minor, K. 626
In mid-1791, when he was working on The Magic Flute, Mozart was visited by a stranger who commissioned him to write a requiem. He offered Mozart a significant fee—half of it in advance—on the condition that it be anonymous. The secret patron behind the commission was Count Franz von Walsegg, who intended to pass off the work as his own composition in memory of his recently departed young wife.
Toward the end of that year, after completing The Magic Flute and fulfilling a late commission for another opera,
La Clemenza di Tito, Mozart was able to become fully engaged in writing his requiem. By that time, however, he was seriously ill and needed to dictate some of his composition to an assistant. His friend Benedikt Schack—the tenor who sang Tamino in The Magic Flute—relates that, on the afternoon before Mozart died, the composer had the unfinished manuscript of the Requiem brought to him in bed and sang through the vocal parts with several friends. Schack tells us that Mozart himself sang the alto part but got only as far as the Lacrimosa, at which point he broke into tears and put the score aside. He died during that night of December 5, age 36.
COMPLETING THE REQUIEM
In the manuscript that Mozart left at his death, only the opening section, the Introit, was more or less complete. Beyond that, nine more sections were sketched; that is, the vocal solo and choral parts plus the orchestral bass line were filled in for the Kyrie through the Hostias, although the famously beautiful Lacrimosa broke off completely after only 8 bars. In these movements, there are just occasional hints at figuration for the orchestra. Missing entirely were the final movements: Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, Lux aeterna, and Cum Sanctis tuis.
In order to receive the sizable fee for the commission, Mozart's widow Constanze needed to have the score secretly completed and presented as her husband's work. She first turned to Joseph Eybler, a composer and former student who had been well respected by Mozart. Eybler orchestrated some parts of the work but then declined to complete the task for reasons that we can only speculate about. Did he perhaps find it too daunting to work in Mozart's shadow, especially with some movements not even begun? After a couple of other musicians declined the task, Franz Xaver Süssmayr agreed to take it on. Süssmayr had been a family friend and a student of Mozart, but he was considerably less skilled as a composer than Eybler.
In order to complete the Requiem, he had to finish the orchestration, extend the fragmentary Lacrimosa into a complete movement, and compose the missing Sanctus and Benedictus from scratch. For the closing Agnus Dei and Communion, he decided to adapt Mozart's own music from the beginning of the work, setting it with the appropriate text for the end of a requiem.
Although Süssmayr's work has long been considered the standard completion of the work and is thus the one most frequently performed, it has been controversial for at least 200 years. His effort has frequently been criticized as being weak and un-Mozartean in many passages, for containing basic errors of musical grammar, and for being too thickly orchestrated for a Mozart work, with its extensive instrumental doubling of voice parts.
Nonetheless, it is the one version that comes not only from the 18th century but from Mozart's inner circle. It may, for all we know, incorporate some verbal instructions from the composer himself or original sketches that are now lost to us. Indeed, the sections that Süssmayr claimed to be his own (Sanctus and Benedictus) have often been considered too good to be his, considering the quality of his own original music, and are thus suspected of incorporating some of Mozart's instructions. Constanze recalled giving him a "few scraps of music," along with the unfinished manuscript, and her sister, Sophie Haibel, claimed that, on the night before he died, Mozart had given Süssmayr directions as to how he wanted the work completed. But these were memories from several decades later, and it is impossible to know how accurate they were or even whether there may have been a wish to make the work more fully Mozart's. Nevertheless, they are additional reasons not to dismiss Süssmayr's work entirely, despite its problems.
THE LEVIN VERSION
In 1995, Boston Baroque recorded for Telarc the period-instrument premiere of Robert Levin's soon-to-be-published version of the Requiem. Several other new versions had come out in the previous decades, but what was particularly attractive about this one was not only its scholarly grounding but also its respect for the history of the work and its effort to repair and improve the familiar Süssmayr version, rather than to replace it.
The repairs range from many small details to significant changes in the orchestration, as well as bold left turns in the harmony that have surprised those who know the Requiem in the traditional version. The orchestration, which is new in many places, is more transparent than Süssmayr's, errors in voice leading have been corrected, and awkward harmonic progressions have been made more Mozartean. The Hosanna fugue at the end of the Sanctus has been extended beyond Süssmayr's rather timid effort, giving it proportions more typical of Mozart.
Perhaps the most striking new material in this version is the Amen fugue at the end of the Lacrimosa. With Mozart's manuscript breaking off before the end of that movement, Süssmayr brings it to a simple close with the word "Amen." However, in 1963, a sketch in Mozart's hand was discovered that had counterpoint for the opening bars of a fugue, material that appeared to have been meant for an Amen at the end of the movement. Levin has worked the fragment into a completed fugue which, unlike some earlier efforts, remains in a single key throughout, as did Mozart's fugues for similar endings.
Perhaps Mozart himself may have done something along these lines, or he may instead have mixed the material with more modern, homophonic music, as he sometimes did in other works—or he might simply have discarded the sketch and ended the Lacrimosa without a fugue. Did Süssmayr mistakenly overlook the sketch, or, as Christoph Wolff has wondered, did he lack the confidence to write a full fugue in a Mozart work? Did Mozart himself decide to discard it? We will probably never know, but Levin has given us a possible way of listening to this movement as an extended piece. At the same time, we feel a tragic sense of loss as this fragment of music passes from the eighth to the ninth bar of the Lacrimosa dies illa ("On that day of tears"), where Mozart's manuscript abruptly breaks off and that of the completion takes over.
Program Notes
by Martin Pearlman
Handel’s Agrippina
April 24 & 25, 2015
“The audience was so enchanted with [Agrippina], that. . . the theatre at almost every pause, resounded with shouts and acclamations of viva il caro Sassone! [long live the dear Saxon] and other expressions of approbation too extravagant to be mentioned. They were thunderstruck with the grandeur and sublimity of his style: for never had they known till then all the powers of harmony and modulation so closely arrayed, and so forcibly combined.”
This account is by Mainwaring, Handel’s first biographer, who was born well after the event. Whether or not the audience experienced the “harmony and modulation” in exactly this way, there is no doubt about the resounding success of Handel’s second opera. It ran for an extraordinary 27 performances and established the 24-year-old composer’s reputation throughout Europe. It was the first huge triumph of his career.
Agrippina was written toward the end of Handel’s formative years in Italy, and the first performances took place in Venice at the theater of San Giovanni Gristostomo during the winter carnival season of 1709–1710. The cast included some of the most famous names in opera, including Margherita Duras- Tanti, for whom Handel created the title role and who later went on to sing many of Handel’s operas in England. Poppea was sung by the soprano Diamante Maria Scarabelli, whose virtuosic technique inspired Handel to add a flashy aria to the opera during its initial run. Interestingly, the role of the hero Otho was written for a woman (Francesca Vanini-Boschi), and we therefore have a woman singing it in our production. The high role of Nero, however, was sung by a man, the castrato Valeriano Pellegrini; for that role, we have cast a man singing countertenor.
The music of Agrippina has the wonderfully fresh and inventive spirit of Handel’s youth. But it is not entirely original: despite the fact that Handel was still a young man, he recycled many of his own earlier works—mostly works which had previously only been heard in private salons—and, in a few instances, he adapted works of other composers. These “borrowed” works became the basis of his overture and all but five of the arias in this opera, but they were extensively rewritten for Agrippina and brilliantly reveal the characters in each role. As with Messiah, Handel is said to have composed the entire opera in a mere three weeks, a feat that is astonishing even with the borrowed music.
The libretto is by Cardinal Vincenzo Grimani (whose family owned the theater), and it was written expressly for Handel. That was unusual, since, for most of his other operas, Handel turned to libretti in the public domain which had already been set to music by other composers. The characters in this opera, with the exception of Lesbo, are all historical, although Grimani takes liberties with his chronology. Their story derives from the accounts by Tacitus and Suetonius, but here they are treated with a lighter—and sometimes more comical—touch than the characters in those ancient sources, or indeed than the characters in most of Handel’s later operas. Agrippina, the mother of Nero and wife of Claudius, schemes to place her son on the throne while navigating the tangled relationships of Nero, Poppea and Otho. The story has its sequel in the much earlier Monteverdi opera The Coronation of Poppea, which follows the vicissitudes of these last three characters.
Handel’s success with Agrippina changed the course of his life. Among the dignitaries in the audience were Baron Kielmansegge of Hanover and Prince Ernst, the brother of the Elector of Hanover, both of whom went repeatedly to hear the new opera. Handel was soon offered a position at the court in Hanover and left Italy for Germany. As it happened, Germany would be only a brief stop on his path to London, where the greater part of his career would unfold.
Magnificat in D Major, Wq 215
Chorus: S-A-T-B
Soloists: S-A-T-B
Orchestra: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings, continuo
***
Magnificat
Quia respexit (soprano)
Quia fecit mihi magna (tenor)
Et misericordia eius
Fecit potentiam (bass)
Deposuit potentes (alto, tenor)
Suscepit Israel (alto)
Gloria patri
Sicut erat in principio
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, the eldest son of Johann Sebastian, wrote his brilliant Magnificat in 1749. It was his first large-scale work, but the reason that he wrote it is a matter of some speculation. At the time, he was employed in Prussia at the court of Frederick the Great, where his principal occupation was as a composer and keyboard player. Whether or not this work was written as an application for another job, as some writers have suggested, it was in all probability not performed until after he had taken a position in Hamburg nearly twenty years later. As music director for the five principal churches in Hamburg, Bach would doubtless have found it useful to resurrect an earlier work such as this to supplement his newer output of religious music. But in resurrecting it, he did not merely dust off the old score, but he recycled parts of this music for other uses in his St. Matthew Passion, his Easter Music cantata, and other works. Late in his life, he appears to have made revisions to this early work and give it a grander sound with the addition of horns, trumpets and timpani.
In much of the son's score, one can feel the influence of the father, who was still alive when this work was first written. Many of the melodic lines and harmonies may be reminiscent of Johann Sebastian, but stylistically Philipp Emanuel's Magnificat is more "modern" than that of his father. Movements in quasi-sonata form look forward to Haydn and Mozart, and some of the harmony even anticipates the nineteenth century. Unlike Johann Sebastian's music, this is for the most part not a contrapuntal work with independent lines. Rather much of the music is homophonic, featuring melodic lines with accompaniments. Even the exhilarating violin parts in the opening movement form a background to simple harmonic writing in the chorus. Only the final movement is in a truly older contrapuntal style. Here C. P. E. Bach creates a double fugue, beginning with a single subject, introducing a second one for the "Amen," and then superimposing the two. Commentators have remarked on the similarity between the first subject and that of the Kyrie in Mozart's Requiem, which was written more than 40 years later. Philipp Emanuel's fugue, however, is extended in length almost to the breaking point, beyond what we find in the fugues of his father or of Mozart. It is a huge capstone to this brilliant early work.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Magnificat
May 7, 1993
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Dominique Labelle, soprano
Mary Ann Hart, mezzo-soprano
Bruce Fowler, tenor
David Arnold, baritone
Six Sinfonias, W. 182
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
By the early 1770's, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach was established as Telemann's successor in Hamburg, where he directed music in various churches. Having served nearly thirty years at the court of Frederick the Great, he was already at least as famous and influential as a composer and keyboard player as his father had been in his time.
One of C. P. E. Bach's great admirers was the music enthusiast and Austrian ambassador to Prussia, Baron Gottfried van Swieten. It was he who would later introduce Mozart and Haydn to many of the works of J. S. Bach and Handel and who would write the librettos to Haydn's oratorios The Creation and The Seasons. On a visit to Hamburg to see C. P. E. Bach, van Swieten commissioned him to write a set of symphonies in which, according their contemporary, Johann Friedrich Reichardt, Bach would "give himself free rein, without regard to the difficulties of execution which were bound to arise." The result was a set of six symphonies for strings and continuo completed in 1773. Reichardt wrote of their "original and bold flow of ideas. Hardly has ever a more noble, daring, or humorous musical work issued from the pen of a genius."
These sinfonias have all the qualities that are so characteristic of C. P. E. Bach's musical personality: virtuosic string writing, quirky changes of mood and harmony, and slow movements that take us into the world of the Empfindsamer Stil, the "sensitive" or intimate and introspective style with its arresting chromatic harmonies and highly expressive, melancholy sighing figures. There are dramatic moments that remind us of the Sturm und Drang symphonies that Haydn was writing at the same time. There are also lighter movements, to be sure, but even here there are sometimes surprising harmonic twists under a simple surface.
Reichardt wrote of these sinfonias, "It would be a great loss for art if these masterpieces were to remain hidden away in private hands." Yet they were indeed lost for a time and, on being rediscovered, they were at first mistakenly published as string quartets. The error has been rectified and they have been republished in good editions, but they are still too infrequently heard in concerts today.
Boston Baroque Performances
Sinfonia in B-flat Major, W. 182, No. 2
November 26, 1990
University of New Hampshire, Durham, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 16, 1990
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Sinfonia in C Major, W. 182, No. 3
November 11, 1988
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Six Symphonies, Op. 3
for 2 oboes, 2 horns, strings and continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Johann Christian Bach (1735-1782), the youngest son of Johann Sebastian, studied first with his father and, after his father's death, with his brother Carl Philipp Emanuel. He completed his studies in Italy with the renowned musician and scholar Padre Martini, who was later visited by the young Mozart. In Italy, Johann Christian developed a reputation for his liturgical music and operas, and he became a skilled composer of the Italian opera overture, one of the forms that developed into the Classical symphony. In 1762 he moved to London, where he became the queen's music master, a popular composer of operas and instrumental works, and one of the presenters, along with Carl Abel, of an important public concert series. He is often referred to as "the London Bach."
The six symphonies of his Opus 3 were first performed in his concert series in 1765. One member of the audience for some of these works may well have been the nine-year-old Mozart. In 1764-65, Mozart was on tour with his father in England, where he came to know J. C. Bach personally and fell under the influence of his music. Mozart's early symphony, K. 19, written while in London, is modeled on the first of Bach's Opus 3 symphonies. Also while in London, Mozart wrote his first piano concerto, which is actually an arrangement of sonata movements by Bach.
These symphonies of J. C. Bach are in an early Classical style from a time when the symphony was evolving. In their charming themes, the way they develop ideas, and even in their orchestration, one can hear Bach's influence on the young Mozart. But they are more than "lesser Mozart," as some writers have described them. They are lively, attractive works well worth hearing in their own right.
Boston Baroque Performances
Sinfonia in D Major, Op. 3, No. 1
March 13, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
April 8, 1977
Paine Hall, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concertos for Harpsichord or Pianoforte, Op. 7
for harpsichord or pianoforte with two violins and cello
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The career of Johann Christian Bach, the youngest son of Johann Sebastian, followed in a general way the same route as that of Handel: Germany to Italy to England. Arriving in England in 1762, three years after Handel's death, J. C. Bach established himself as a popular composer of operas and instrumental works in an early Classical style. It was early in his London years that he was visited by the eight year old Mozart, who was greatly influenced by his music. Mozart's earliest piano concertos were arrangements of Bach's keyboard sonatas, and he esteemed "the London Bach" throughout his life.
Bach's concertos that make up his Opus 7 were published in 1770 under the title Six Concertos for the Harpsichord or Piano Forte with Accompaniments for Two Violins & a Violoncello. In that transitional time between the harpsichord and the piano, it was not uncommon to advertise works as being for either instrument. On the one hand, it could increase sales to people who did not yet have the new pianos, but it also reflected the fact that the piano had not yet developed an idiomatic style distinct from that of the harpsichord.
Bach himself is reported to have performed concerts on the piano as early as 1768, but he is also known to have performed on the harpsichord into the early 1770's. Three of these six concertos have dynamic markings that would suggest performance on a piano: forte markings below just a few notes to emphasize them, as well as progressively loud dynamic markings to indicate a crescendo. For at least those three concertos, the piano would seem to be the preferred instrument, but works from this set have been performed successfully on both harpsichord and piano.
As the publisher's title suggests, these are essentially chamber pieces with only three string instruments accompanying the keyboard soloist. That said, there might also have been performances using a larger ensemble. Horn parts for five of these concertos (all but No. 4), as well as oboe parts for No. 3, were discovered in the late twentieth century, and they appear to be authentic. While the chamber music nature of these works would have made them appealing to amateurs playing at home, a more orchestral version may have been useful for the famous series of concerts that Bach produced in London together with the gambist and composer Carl Friedrich Abel.
Cadenzas by Martin Pearlman
Boston Baroque Performances
Concerto in E-flat Major, op. 7, no. 5
November 14, 1989
Gardner Museum, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord soloist
November 10, 1989
Williams College, Williamstown, MA
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord soloist
January 27, 1987
Northwest Bach Festival, Spokane, WA
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord soloist
October 10, 1980
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, fortepiano soloist
July 23, 1980
Prescott Park, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord soloist
April 2, 1976
University Lutheran Church, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord soloist
February 29, 1976
Rockport Opera House, Rockport, ME
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord soloist
Liebster Gott, wann werd ich sterben?, BWV 8
Cantata for the sixteenth Sunday after Trinity
First performance: Leipzig, September 24, 1724
Soloists: Soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Chorus (S-A-T-B)
Orchestra: Flute, 2 oboes d'amore, strings, continuo
(horn colla parte with chorus sopranos)
***
Chorus
Aria (tenor)
Recitative (alto)
Aria (bass)
Recitative (soprano)
Chorale
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Bach's cantata, BWV 8 was first performed at the Sunday service at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig on September 24, 1724, during his second season of writing a weekly cantata. Its opening chorus and the closing chorale are based on the seventeenth-century hymn Liebster Gott, wann werd ich sterben? (Dearest God, when will I die?), for which Daniel Vetter, one of Bach's organist predecessors in Leipzig, had written the melody.
In the opening movement, the chorus sings the phrases of the chorale on the text, "When will I die? My time is constantly running out…" Against this sustained music, two oboes d'amore play a duet over pizzicato violins and viola. It is a beautiful, transparent sonority over which a flute periodically plays repeated bell-like sixteenth notes. Each group of the flute's sixteenths has twenty-four notes, suggesting the passing of time as mentioned in the words of the hymn. A colla parte horn plays the chorale tune along with the sopranos of the chorus.
In the aria that follows, a tenor is accompanied only by a solo oboe d'amore and continuo. The bass line continues the pizzicato from the opening chorus, as the beats of its four-note motive emphasize the fear in the words "wenn meine letzte Stunde schlägt" ("if my last hour strikes"). Following an accompanied recitative for alto, the bass aria banishes fears of death and turns to Jesus. It is a joyful aria in the character of a gigue, with a prominent flute solo accompanied by strings and continuo. A secco recitative for soprano then leads into the closing chorale. It is, as mentioned above, the chorale by the Leipzig organist Daniel Vetter, but here Bach, atypically for him, does not harmonize the chorale tune himself but uses Vetter's full harmonization.
Bach seems to have had a particularly fine flutist for several months around the time of this cantata, for he wrote expressive and sometimes quite difficult flute parts during that time. The flute in the opening chorus and in the bass aria of this cantata has extreme high notes for a Baroque flute, its music in the aria going up to a high "A." Whether the original flutist could play the highest notes is unknown, but Bach subsequently made some alterations, first adjusting the part for a "flauto piccolo" (perhaps a recorder), then making other alterations for a performance in the late 1730's, and finally transposing the cantata down a step in the 1740's. But since transposing this music sacrifices some of the beautiful sonority of the opening chorus, the cantata is normally played in its original form today. The high notes are easily playable on a modern flute, and there are now a number of Baroque flute players, as well, who can manage them.
Boston Baroque Performances
Liebster Gott, wann werd ich sterben?, BWV 8
April 12, 1985
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Sergio Pelacani, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, bass
Jesu, der du meine Seele, BWV 78
Cantata for the fourteenth Sunday after Trinity
First performance: Leipzig, September 10, 1724
Soloists: Soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Chorus (S-A-T-B)
Orchestra: Flute, 2 oboes, strings, continuo
(horn colla parte with chorus sopranos)
***
Chorus
Duet (soprano, alto)
Recitative (tenor)
Aria (tenor)
Recitative and arioso (bass)
Aria (bass)
Chorale
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This popular cantata was first performed on September 10, 1724, the fourteenth Sunday after Trinity. The hymn used in the opening chorus and in the final chorale dates from the seventeenth century.
The enormously powerful opening movement is a huge chorale prelude in the dark key of G minor. Underpinning it is a four-bar descending chromatic passacaglia line that repeats throughout, mostly in the bass but sometimes in upper voices and sometimes in inversion. The movement is scored for a full ensemble of flute, two oboes, strings and continuo with the chorus. A horn doubles the sopranos in the chorale melody.
This pleading opening chorus is followed by a duet in a very different spirit. Over an exuberant, almost playful continuo, a soprano and an alto spin out lively, imitative lines as they sing of hurrying with eager steps to Jesus. In the agonized recitative that follows, the tenor exclaims, "Ach! ich bin ein Kind der Sünden" ("Ah! I am a child of sin"). It is full of ambiguous, practically atonal harmonies showing him astray and lost, until his music settles into a steadier tempo and the more stable though still dark key of C minor, as he turns to Jesus.
The remaining two arias feature solo instruments, the tenor aria a flute and the bass aria an oboe. The flute aria in particular reminds us that this cantata was written during a period of several months when Bach evidently had available to him a very fine flutist, for whom he wrote many expressive and virtuosic flute solos, including the extremely difficult ones in cantata BWV 8. The work ends with Bach's beautiful harmonization of the chorale tune that he used in the expansive opening chorus of this cantata.
Boston Baroque Performances
Jesu, der du meine Seele, BWV 78
March 18, 1983
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Janet Brown, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
John Osborn, bass
Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott, BWV 80
Cantata for the Reformation Festival
Soloists: Soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Chorus (S-A-T-B)
Orchestra: 2 oboes, 2 oboes d’amore, oboe da caccia, 3 trumpets, timpani, strings, continuo
***
Chorus
Aria with chorale (soprano, bass)
Recitative and arioso (bass)
Aria (soprano)
Chorale (chorus in unison)
Recitative (tenor)
Duet (alto, tenor)
Chorale
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Bach's great chorale cantata Ein feste Burg, BWV 80 went through a number of stages before it reached the form in which we hear it most often today. The earliest version, which he wrote in Weimar in 1715, is lost, but it is known to have been more modest than the piece that we have today. Among other things, that early version would not have had the work's two biggest choral movements, and its smaller orchestra would not have included trumpets and timpani and may even have had only one oboe.
Then in 1723, Bach, who was then a church cantor in Leipzig, reworked the cantata for use in the Reformation Festival on October 31. In doing so, he added a chorale at the beginning, though not yet the grand choral movement that we have now. He also added a major chorale movement in the middle of the cantata, based on a verse of the hymn that speaks of going bravely through a world filled with devils. The chorus in that movement sings the hymn tune in a resolute unison, while the orchestra surrounds it with music of devilish abandon. Altogether there were now four movements that incorporated Luther's chorale tune "Ein' feste Burg," giving the cantata an arc that progressed through four verses of the hymn.
Some years later (the exact date is uncertain), Bach again revised the cantata for a Reformation Festival, this time composing the work's crowning achievement, the complex and lengthy opening chorus based on the same hymn by Luther that was woven through the rest of the cantata. The orchestration was also filled out with oboes, as well as the lower instruments of that family, oboes d'amore and oboe da caccia.
But trumpets and timpani were still not part of the orchestra for this work, and they never were during Bach's lifetime. It was his son Wilhelm Friedemann who added them to the two large choruses approximately a decade after his father's death. It was a procedure that Bach himself had performed on some of his works, and it added a brilliance to the sound of the cantata as it is heard in most performances today.
Boston Baroque Performances
Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott, BWV 80
March 25, 1995
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Dominique Labelle, soprano
Pamela Dellal, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Sanford Sylvan, baritone
Ich habe genug, BWV 82
Cantata for the Feast of the Purification
First performance: Leipzig, February 2, 1727
For bass soloist, oboe, strings and continuo
***
Aria: Ich habe genug
Recitative: Ich habe genug
Aria: Schlummert ein, ihr matten Augen
Recitative: Mein Gott! wann kommst das schöne: Nun!
Aria (Vivace): Ich freue mich auf meinen Tod
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The solo cantata Ich habe genug (I have enough) was composed for the Feast of the Purification, February 2, 1727. It was performed on that occasion by a bass singer with a solo oboe, strings and continuo, but like many works of Bach, it went through several revisions. Bach initially wrote the opening aria for an alto, but on completing it, he appended an instruction that the voice part should be transposed down an octave for a bass. He then wrote the remainder of the cantata for bass. Several years later, he transposed the work up a third from C minor to E minor to adapt it for soprano and, in that higher version, substituted a flute for the oboe. Still later, he altered the clef on the voice staff to transpose it back to C minor for an alto. A final version copied out toward the end of his life is once again for bass. Why all these changes were made and what circumstances led him to make them are not known, but they probably reflect the availability of soloists at times that he wanted to perform the cantata. It is normally heard today in its bass version.
The text is by an anonymous librettist. Over its three arias, it rejects worldly fortunes and expresses serenity as it anticipates death. In the opening aria, "Ich habe genug," a gentle pulsing in the strings supports an elaborately ornamented oboe line as it weaves around the voice. The well known middle aria is a beautiful lullaby in rondo form for the solo singer with strings and continuo, "Schlummert ein, ihr matten Augen" ("Go to sleep, you weary eyes"). The eighth notes in the bass line give this aria as well a gentle pulse, a pulse that sometimes pauses, suspended in midair, at a fermata. This aria and the recitative that precedes it were copied by Bach's wife, Anna Magdalena, into her notebook. There follows a recitative that ends in a brief adagio arioso in C minor bidding farewell to the world: "Welt! gute Nacht" ("World! good night"). The cantata then concludes with a lively aria in C minor, "Ich freue mich auf meinen Tod" ("I rejoice at my death"), in which the soloist sings spirited sixteenth-note melismas on the word "freue" ("rejoice").
Boston Baroque Performances
Ich habe genug, BWV 82
January 1, 1992
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
William Sharp, bass
October 15, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
John Osborn, bass
April 30, 1982
Chandler Music Hall, Randolph, VT
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
John Osborn, bass
April 24, 1981
Choate Rosemary Hall, Wallingford, CT
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
John Osborn, bass
April 10, 1981
Rockport Opera House, Rockport, ME
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
John Osborn, bass
Erfreute Zeit im neuen Bunde, BWV 83
Cantata for the Feast of the Purification
First performance: Leipzig, February 2, 1724
Soloists: Alto, tenor, bass
Chorus (S-A-T-B) in final chorale only
Orchestra: 2 oboes, 2 horns in F, solo violin, strings, continuo
***
Aria (alto)
Intonazione e Recitativo (bass)
Aria (tenor)
Recitative (alto)
Chorale
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Bach's cantata Erfreute Zeit im neuen Bunde (Joyful time in the new covenant) was written for the Feast of the Purification on February 2, 1724. In addition to its three soloists (alto, tenor and bass), this cantata features virtuosic parts for a solo violin in its first and third movements. The strong, cheerful tone of the cantata is established at the outset in an alto aria with the full, bright sound of two oboes, two horns in F, solo violin, strings and continuo.
The second movement, an "Intonation and Recitative," is a unique work among the Bach cantatas. In it, the bass soloist intones the chant for the Nunc dimittis or Song of Simeon from the gospel of Luke, a text that was related to the gospel reading for that day's service. It sings of finding liberation in death. Against the chant, the violins and violas in unison play a two-voice canon with the bass instruments, the two parts imitating each other sometimes exactly, sometimes more freely. In the middle of this movement, the chant and canon are momentarily broken off, while the bass sings fragments of recitative, as if interpolating a commentary.
There follows an aria for tenor, "Eile, Herz, voll Freudigkeit" ("Hurry, my heart, full of joy"), in which there is once more a virtuosic violin solo, this time in running sixteenth-note triplets. Then a brief secco recitative for the alto soloist leads into the final chorale, which takes one verse from Martin Luther's paraphrase of the Nunc dimittis.
Boston Baroque Performances
Erfreute Zeit im neuen Bunde, BWV 83
March 18, 1983
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jeffrey Gall, counter-tenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
John Osborn, bass
Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit, BWV 106 ("Actus Tragicus")
Funeral cantata
First performance: Mühlhausen, c. 1708
Soloists: Soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Chorus: S-A-T-B (could be soloists)
Orchestra: 2 recorders, 2 violas da gamba, continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Bach's cantata Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit ("God's time is the best time"), is one of his earliest cantatas, written, it is thought, during the brief period when the 22-year-old composer held a post as church organist in Mühlhausen (1707-8). This beautiful, well-loved chamber cantata was written for a funeral, although whose funeral it was is a matter of some conjecture. The most likely candidate is Tobias Lämmerhirt, his mother's uncle with whom Bach was close. The original manuscript is lost, and the oldest surviving copy, which dates from after Bach's death, gives no clue as to the dedicatee. However, that copy does bear the title "Actus Tragicus," which has become attached to this cantata.
The work has an unusually transparent texture, with no orchestra but only two recorders, two gambas and continuo together with the vocal soloists and choir, which could be comprised of the four soloists. It is a simple, gentle, but intensely dramatic cantata that meditates on death, the continuity between life and death, and finding peace. The text uses Old Testament verses for the first part and New Testament verses for the second.
Boston Baroque Performances
Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit, BWV 106
March 8 & 9, 2013
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Teresa Wakim, soprano
Katherine Growdon, mezzo-soprano
Mark Sprinkle, tenor
Brad Gleim, baritone
Benjamin Henry-Moreland, bass
Die Zeit, die Tag und Jahre macht, BWV 134a
Secular cantata for New Year's Day
First performance: Cöthen, January 1, 1719
Soloists: Alto (Time) and tenor (Divine Providence)
Chorus (S-A-T-B) in last movement
Orchestra: 2 oboes, strings, continuo
***
Recitative (alto, tenor)
Aria (tenor)
Recitative (alto, tenor)
Aria (alto, tenor)
Recitative (alto, tenor)
Aria (alto)
Recitative (alto, tenor)
Chorus (alto, tenor, chorus)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The rarely heard secular cantata, Die Zeit, die Tag und Jahre macht (Time that makes the day and the year) is designated as a serenata in its libretto. Written to celebrate New Year's Day of 1719, it was a tribute to Bach's employer at the time, Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen. Two soloists, a tenor representing Time and an alto representing Divine Providence, sing Prince Leopold's praises and promise him continued good fortune in the new year and beyond. A choir joins the two soloists in the dance-like last movement.
Five years later, after Bach had taken up his position in Leipzig, he adapted this secular cantata (or serenata) for use as an Easter cantata, Ein Herz, das seinen Jesum lebend weiß (A heart that knows the living Jesus), BWV 134. In that version, the aria for alto and continuo was omitted, along with the recitative that proceeded it, but otherwise the new sacred text required only a few minor alterations to the music. For later performances of his Easter cantata, Bach made further revisions, including writing new recitatives.
Boston Baroque Performances
Die Zeit, die Tag und Jahre macht, BWV 134a
November 3, 1978
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Karl Dan Sorensen, tenor
Wachet auf! ruft uns die Stimme, BWV 140
Cantata for the twenty-seventh Sunday after Trinity
First performance: Leipzig, November 25, 1731
Soloists: Soprano, tenor, bass
Chorus (SATB)
Orchestra: 2 oboes, taille, violino piccolo, strings, continuo.
(A horn doubles chorus sopranos on the hymn tune.)
(Continuo parts extant for bassoon and organ.)
***
Chorus (1st verse of chorale)
Recitative (tenor)
Duet-dialogue (soprano, bass)
Chorale (2nd verse)
Recitative (bass)
Duet-dialogue (soprano, bass)
Chorale (3rd verse)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The chorale cantata Wachet auf! ruft uns die Stimme (Awake! the voice calls to us) is one of the most popular of all of Bach's cantatas. It was first performed on November 25, 1731. The chorale on which it is based comes from the end of the sixteenth century; it has only three verses, all of which are sung in this work.
The opening movement, which has been called a chorale fantasia, sets the first verse of the "Wachet auf" chorale. It begins with a stately dotted rhythm that is passed between a trio of upper strings (first and second violins plus viola) and a trio of oboes (two oboes and a taille). In modern-instrument performances, an English horn generally substitutes for the taille, i. e. the oboe da caccia or tenor oboe in F. With the choral entrance, the sopranos sing the hymn tune over the counterpoint of the lower voices, while the orchestra continues to play the dotted rhythms and other figuration.
Following a tenor recitative, there is the first of two duet dialogues between the soul (a soprano) and Christ (a bass). As the symbolic bride and bridegroom, each voice has its own text, so that soul's questions are answered by Jesus: "When will you come?"/"I am coming." Overlaid above their dialogue is a sensuous, highly ornamented solo line for a violino piccolo, a small violin tuned a minor third higher than the other violins.
The famous middle movement of this cantata sets the second verse of the chorale, with the tenor singing the hymn tune, as the violins and viola in unison play an independent melodic line. The rich sonority of the movement is thus in the middle alto-tenor range, accompanied by the continuo bass. Bach's later transcription of this movement for organ was published as one of his Schübler Chorales.
Following a recitative for bass, there is then the second duet dialogue for soprano and bass. Like the first one, this is also accompanied by a solo instrument with continuo, the soloist in this case being an oboe. In this second dialogue, the soul is now united with Jesus: "My friend is mine"/"And I am yours."
The cantata concludes with the third and last verse of the chorale text in a simple four-voice harmonization.
The autograph score of this cantata was lost after the composer's oldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann, auctioned off many of his father's manuscripts to pay his own debts. However, the original parts have survived, as have manuscript scores by later copyists.
Boston Baroque Performances
Wachet auf! ruft uns die Stimme, BWV 140
March 25, 1995
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Dominique Labelle, soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Sanford Sylvan, baritone
Vergnügte Ruh', beliebte Seelenlust, BWV 170
Cantata for the sixth Sunday after Trinity
First performance: Leipzig, July 28, 1726
For alto solo, oboe d'amore, strings, and organ.
***
Aria
Recitative
Aria: Adagio
Recitative
Aria
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The cantata, Vergnügte Ruh', beliebte Seelenlust (Delightful repose, cherished pleasure of the soul) was first performed on July 28, 1726, the sixth Sunday after Trinity. It calls for a small ensemble: a single alto soloist with oboe d'amore, strings and organ. The oboe d'amore is here not an independent instrument; rather it simply doubles the first violin in the first and last aria, enriching the color of the middle range to complement that of the alto soloist. The organ, on the other hand has prominent obbligato parts in the second and third arias.
From the outset of the first aria, the ensemble creates a sense of peace and repose with slurred, repeated eighth notes. There are just hints of chromaticism where the text mentions sin and weakness.
The second aria is in a very different character. It is an Adagio in F# minor with a text that laments perverted hearts that are set against God. There is no continuo in this aria, but the organ plays an obbligato part with both hands up in the treble range. Its music is tortuous and chromatic, while the violins and viola play a bass line in unison. The organ music breaks momentarily into more agitated thirty-second notes at the phrases "Rach und Haß" ("vengeance and hatred") and "frech verlacht" ("insolently derides").
The final aria returns to D major with music that feels lively and cheerful, despite a text that says, "I am sick of living; therefore, Jesus, take me away." It is about death as the beginning of a better life. The one discordant hint in the music is the tritone with G# at the beginning of the main theme.
For a performance of this cantata later in his life, Bach substituted a flute for the the obbligato organ in the last movement, perhaps because he did not then have a second keyboard instrument to play continuo.
Boston Baroque Performances
Vergnügte Ruh', beliebte Seelenlust, BWV 170
November 4, 1977
Paine Hall, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Stephen Hammer, oboe d'amore
Martin Pearlman, organ
Weichet nur betrübte Schatten, BWV 202
Cantata for a wedding
First performance: Probably before 1717
For soprano solo, oboe, strings, and continuo.
***
Aria: Adagio/Andante
Recitative
Aria: Allegro assai
Recitative
Aria: Allegro
Recitative
Aria
Recitative
Gavotte
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This beautiful work, one of Bach's most popular secular cantatas, is written for a small ensemble: a soprano soloist with oboe, strings and continuo. Very little is known about the origins of Weichet nur betrübte Schatten (Depart, gloomy shadows) other than the fact that, as the text itself makes clear, it was written for a wedding. It has long been assumed on stylistic grounds to date from Bach's time in Cöthen (1717-23), but more recent scholarship tends to place it earlier, to the years before 1717, when Bach was employed at Weimar.
The cantata opens amidst "gloomy shadows, frost, and winds," as gently rising arpeggios in the strings create a misty atmosphere and the solo oboe and soprano weave a tortuous, harmonically shifting counterpoint. As the atmosphere clears and the world is reborn, the cantata turns to thoughts of spring and love, and the music becomes simpler and more dance-like. The work ends with an actual dance, a joyous gavotte, in which the soprano sings only in the middle section, where she ornaments the dance tune: "In contentment may you see a thousand bright days of happiness."
Boston Baroque Performances
Weichet nur betrübte Schatten, BWV 202
December 31, 2007 & January 1, 2008
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
December 31, 1997 & January 1, 1998
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Dominique Labelle, soprano
January 1, 1992
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Patrice Michaels Bedi, soprano
February 3, 1985
Essex Junction Auditorium, Essex Junction, VT
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Sharon Baker, soprano
February 6, 1981
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
November 15, 1980
Harvard Unitarian Church, Harvard, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Non sa che sia dolore, BWV 209
A farewell cantata
First performance: Unknown
For soprano, flute, strings, and continuo.
***
Sinfonia
Recitative
Aria
Recitative
Aria
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This work is one of only two cantatas by Bach that are in Italian. The text of Non sa che sia dolore (One knows not what sorrow is) makes it clear that it was in honor of someone who was departing. Who that person was has been a matter of speculation. One candidate has been Johann Matthias Gesner, a classical scholar and friend of Bach. He was originally from Ansbach, a town that is mentioned in the cantata, and was for several years the rector at the Thomasschule in Leipzig, where Bach also was employed. He left Leipzig for Göttingen in 1734, so if this cantata was indeed written to honor him, it would likely date from that year. On the other hand, the text also mentions sailing away on the sea and serving one's country, mentions Minerva, the goddess of defensive war, and implies that the person may be young. Thus the dedicatee might well be a young man going off to serve in the military.
Why the text is in Italian no one knows, but it is clear that the anonymous author was not a native Italian. While there are a few lines that quote Italian poetry, the grammar for the rest is often poor, and the text is sometimes odd and difficult to decipher.
However, Bach's music is, as one would expect, very fine. The work is for a soprano soloist with flute, strings and continuo. It opens with a lengthy da capo instrumental sinfonia that sounds like it could have been a movement from a (lost?) flute concerto. There then follow two soprano arias, each preceded by a recitative. The flute is a prominent soloist in both arias.
Boston Baroque Performances
Non sa che sia dolore, BWV 209
January 21, 1992
St. Anselm’s College, Manchester, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
July 29, 1990
Castle Hill, Ipswich, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Wendy Rolfe, flute
January 16, 1990
Gardner Museum, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
December 31, 1988
St. Paul’s Cathedral, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
July 15, 1987
George’s Island, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
January 1, 1986
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, East Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
December 30, 1984
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
July 12, 1983
Indianapolis Museum of Art, Indianapolis, IN
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Nancy Joyce, flute
November 3, 1982
State Street Church, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Janet Brown, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
November 1, 1982
Bay Chamber Concerts, Rockport, ME
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Janet Brown, soprano
Christopher Krueger, flute
April 3, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstong, soprano
Nancy Joyce, flute
O holder Tag, erwünschte Zeit, BWV 210
Cantata for a wedding
First performance: Leipzig, 1740s
For soprano, flute, oboe d'amore, strings and continuo.
***
Recitative
Aria: Moderato (ensemble)
Recitative
Aria (oboe d'amore, violin, continuo)
Recitative
Aria (flute, continuo)
Recitative
Aria (oboe d'amore with violins and continuo)
Accompanied recitative: A tempo giusto
Aria: Vivace (ensemble)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The cantata O holder Tag, erwünschte Zeit (Oh blessed day, time that is longed for) was presented at a wedding during the last decade of Bach's life, but the exact date and the names of the couple are unknown. The anonymous text addresses the couple as "great patrons" (Großer Gönner) who honor us with their favor and addresses the bridegroom as a "most esteemed man" (hochtheurer Mann), which suggests that the work was commissioned by a wealthy Leipzig family. The manuscript is copied out in a beautiful hand and bound in silk, perhaps as a gift to the newly married couple.
The cantata is scored for a soprano soloist with flute, oboe d'amore, strings and continuo. The soprano part was clearly written for an accomplished singer. Not only does it require endurance and technical agility, but it goes up to a high C# in the first aria, as well as in a later recitative. The second aria, with an oboe d'amore and violin accompanying the singer, is a lullaby that asks for the languid sounds of the music to pause ("Ruhet hie, matte Töne"), because they are not what a happy marriage needs, but the following recitative responds with praises for the power of music. The aria that follows begins with the words, "Be silent, ye flutes," and the flute that has begun the aria momentarily stops before continuing with its elaborate solo. That challenge to music too is answered in a recitative, and the aria and recitative that follow that one praise the bride and bridgegroom as patrons of the art and offer music as a wedding gift. The cantata ends with a bright aria wishing happiness to the noble couple.
The music of this cantata is, for the most part, an adaptation of an earlier cantata, O angenehme Melodie, BWV 210a, which had been written in 1729 as an homage to a visiting nobleman. It was later repeated to honor other visitors, and here with minimal alterations it was adapted for a wedding. Only the vocal line has survived from the earlier versions. It is only this wedding cantata that shows us the complete piece.
Boston Baroque Performances
O holder Tag, erwünschte Zeit, BWV 210
October 9, 1992
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen, BWV 213
(Hercules auf dem Scheidewege)
Dramma per musica
Libretto by Picander
First performance: Leipzig, September 5, 1733
Soloists: Hercules (alto), Pleasure (soprano), Virtue (tenor), Mercury (bass), Echo (alto)
Chorus (S-A-T-B)
Orchestra: 2 oboes, oboe d'amore, 2 horns in F, strings, continuo
***
Chorus
Recitative (Hercules)
Aria (Pleasure)
Recitative (Pleasure, Virtue)
Aria (Hercules, Echo)
Recitative (Virtue)
Aria (Virtue)
Recitative (Virtue)
Aria (Hercules)
Recitative (Hercules, Virtue)
Duet (Hercules, Virtue)
Recitative (Mercury)
Chorus
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This secular cantata of Bach is known by its first words Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen (Let us take care, let us keep watch) but it also is known by its title Hercules auf dem Scheidewege (Hercules at the Crossroads). It was first performed on September 5, 1733 in Zimmermann's coffee garden in Leipzig. In addition to his work as cantor of the St. Thomas Church, Bach was by that time also director of the Collegium Musicum, a local ensemble of university students and professionals that performed weekly at Zimmermann's coffeehouse during the winters and outside in his coffee garden during the summers.
The occasion for this cantata was the eleventh birthday of prince Friedrich of Saxony. Bach had a long musical relationship with the electoral court at Dresden, where the prince was heir to the throne, a relationship that eventually led to Bach's receiving a title as court composer. Over a fifteen-year period beginning in 1727, he composed a number of works for the Elector and his family. Only months before the present cantata, he dedicated the Kyrie and Gloria of his Mass in B minor to the Elector.
The problem with a very fine occasional work such as this is that once the occasion is past there may be no chance to perform the piece again. But Bach not infrequently recycled his music for use on other occasions and, in doing so, also helped to preserve it. The final chorus of this cantata, as well as a few of the solo movements, are themselves adapted from earlier religious cantatas, but Bach then adapted all the music of this cantata, aside from the dance-like final chorus, for use in his Christmas Oratorio. It is in this last incarnation that much of the music is best known today.
Hercules at the Crossroads is the kind of allegorical dramma per musica which Bach and his librettist Picander used for a number of celebratory cantatas. The story tells the legend of Hercules, who must choose between the path of Pleasure and the path of Virtue. When Pleasure attempts to seduce him with a lullaby, Hercules consults Echo for advice, who, not surprisingly, confirms Hercules' own preference for Virtue. Eventually Hercules and Virtue are united in a duet, and Mercury descends to explain that the drama has been an allegory for the eleven-year-old prince Friedrich. A "Chorus of Muses" closes the celebration with a gavotte-like song of praise in honor of the young heir to the throne.
Boston Baroque Performances
Laßt uns sorgen, laßt uns wachen, BWV 213
February 28 & March 2, 2002
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
William Hite, tenor
April 12, 1985
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Sergio Pelacani, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
February 15, 1980
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Susan Larson, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Ray DeVoll, tenor
Brandenburg Concertos
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
To His Royal Highness Christian Ludwig, Margrave of Brandenburg, etc., etc., etc. Sire: Since I had the happiness of playing at the command of Your Royal Highness a few years ago, and I saw that you took some pleasure in the small talents for music that Heaven has given me, and that, in taking leave of Your Royal Highness, you did me the honor of asking that I send you several of my compositions: therefore, following your gracious command, I take the liberty of offering my most humble respects to Your Royal Highness with the present concertos, which I have arranged for several instruments. . .
With these words, Bach offered to the Margrave of Brandenburg, the youngest son of the Prince-Elector, some of the most sublime music ever written. The date of the dedication was March 24, 1721, and the volume, neatly copied out in Bach's own hand, was entitled "Six concertos with several instruments. . ." (The popular title "Brandenburg Concertos" was bestowed more than a century and a half later by Bach's biographer, Philipp Spitta.)
As he says, Bach had met the Margrave and played for him only a few years earlier in Berlin, while on a visit to find a new harpsichord, and the Margrave had asked Bach to send some of his compositions. But what the Margrave thought of these concertos or whether he actually had any of them performed is unclear. There is no record that Christian Ludwig ever thanked Bach for sending his music, and the original score looks like it was never used, although, of course, copies could have been made. In fact, most of these concertos did not fit the make-up of the Margrave's personal band, whereas the ensemble that Bach was then directing at the court of Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen would have been well suited for these concertos. Clearly, Bach did not compose the music specially for the Margrave, but gathered together in one volume six of the concertos that he had composed for his own use over a period of years.
The Brandenburgs grow out of Bach's long fascination with the latest concertos of Vivaldi and other Italian composers, and they are often cited as the culmination of that genre, but they are more than a summation. They go well beyond their models in their structure and instrumentation. Each of the six Brandenburg Concertos is scored for a different combination of instruments, and each combination is unique in the repertoire.
Of these six concerti, the second, fourth and fifth work well with either a small band of one player to a part, such as Bach seems to have had at Cöthen, or a larger ensemble with multiple strings, as would have been employed at some of the more wealthy establishments of the time.The first concerto, the early version of which precedes Bach's employment at Cöthen, has a richer orchestral texture and is better balanced with multiple strings.The third concerto, on the other hand, is likely meant for solo players on each part, for reasons discussed below.The sixth concerto too essentially a chamber piece with one player to a part, with the unusual tutti ensemble, which includes the transparent sounds of gambas, being almost the same size as the solo group.
Concerto No. 1
The first of the Brandenburg Concertos has the fullest, most complex orchestral sound of any of the six. Here, Bach calls for an orchestra divided into three choirs of instruments--strings, woodwinds and brass--and appoints solo instruments within each group. The string section of the orchestra includes a solo violino piccolo tuned a minor third higher than the normal violin. Among the woodwind group --three oboes and a bassoon -- the first oboe is often a soloist. The third group comprises two horns, which together act much like a third soloist, along with the violino piccolo and oboe.
For the first three movements, Bach creates a music of multiple layers, as the instrumental choirs imitate and answer each other with their characteristic sonorities. In the first movement, he does this for the most part without soloists. The Adagio features the solo violin and oboe, answered by the bass instruments, and, in the third movement, a solo horn joins the violin and oboe. However, in the fourth and final movement, the menuet with its trios, the choirs of instruments are treated differently. For the four repetitions of the menuet itself, all the instruments are combined into a single orchestral sonority. Each of the three middle sections, however, features a different instrumental group, the first has the woodwinds alone, the polonaise the strings alone, and the last the horns (an extraordinary accompaniment of unison oboes). The polonaise (written poloinesse in Bach's manuscript and altered to the Italian polacca in some later sources) is named for the moderately paced Polish dance.
Bach's use of horns in this concerto is remarkable. As hunting instruments, they had been employed on special occasions to depict hunting scenes, but this concerto is one of the earliest works to use horns as regular members of the orchestra. (The first version of this piece is thought to predate Handel's Water Music, another early work with orchestral horns.) Despite their newcomer status, Bach calls for a full range of virtuoso technique from the horns. Nonetheless, he reminds us of their origins at certain moments, such as at the very beginning of this concerto, where the horns play hunting calls. As if to emphasize their presence, Bach superimposes the opening horn calls onto the more traditional concerto music played by the rest of the orchestra, using a cross rhythm (triplets against the sixteenths of the orchestra); and he uses the traditional horn calls unaltered, even though some notes conflict with the harmonies of the orchestra. Bach's instruments were the natural (valveless) horns that developed directly from the hunting instrument.
There is, as mentioned, an earlier version of this first concerto, which may date from around 1713, the year of the "Hunt" Cantata (BWV 208), another work in which Bach uses horns. In 1726, five years after sending his concertos to the Margrave of Brandenburg, Bach recycled music from this concerto for use in two cantatas at Leipzig. The entire first movement forms the opening sinfonia of his cantata, BWV 52. Then, only a few weeks later, he made a more fanciful adaptation of the third movement for a celebratory secular cantata (BWV 207), using three trumpets and timpani, instead of horns, and adding a four-voice chorus.
Concerto No. 2
The unique quartet of soloists in this concerto consists of a violin, a recorder, an oboe, and a trumpet. All four are high instruments, and, together with the relatively transparent orchestral sound in much of the work, they give this concerto an unusually light texture.
The extraordinarily difficult, high trumpet part in the first and third movements is written for a rare instrument, a natural (valveless) trumpet in F. (Most Baroque trumpet music is in D or C.) The concerto is, of course, often played to excellent -- although quite different -- effect on the modern valved trumpet. While that instrument can give the part great soloistic brilliance, the lighter natural trumpet of Bach's day becomes more of an integral part of the solo quartet. (In 1950, at a time when this high trumpet part was still considered nearly unplayable, Pablo Casals made an inspired recording of it by substituting a soprano saxophone for the trumpet.)
The middle movement of this concerto is a chamber work, for only the violin, oboe and recorder with continuo. The trumpet and the orchestra are tacet. While the three soloists play thematic material, the constant eighth notes in the continuo bass gently propel the piece forward.
The third movement then offers a minimal role for the orchestra. Here, the four soloists play alone with continuo for the first third of the movement, and they continue to dominate to the end without interruption from the orchestra. The orchestra enters to accompany four passages, but only the bass instruments of the orchestra are given any thematic material. The basses in this way counter-balance the high solo quartet.
Concerto No. 3
There is a good deal of theater in a live performance of these concertos. In this third concerto, the most striking theatrical effect grows out of its scoring. It is a concerto for strings, with an ensemble that contrasts three trios -- three violins, three violas and three cellos -- the high, middle and low registers of the violin family. These are supported by a continuo accompaniment of violone and harpsichord.
As musical motives pass from one trio to another, or, within the trios, from one soloist to another, we hear (and see, in a live performance) a physical movement of the musical line. If the violins, violas and cellos are arranged in a large semi-circle, the motives move around the semi-circle, as they go from high to low instruments and back again. The effect is best realized when there is only one player to a part.
The Adagio separating the two fast movements of this concerto consists only of two chords. Given the finished quality of the manuscript that Bach presented to the Margrave of Brandenburg, there is no reason to suppose that anything else is meant to be supplied here, other than perhaps a connecting flourish between the two chords.
As with the first Brandenburg, Bach later borrowed part of this work for use in one of his cantatas. In 1729, he used the first movement as the opening sinfonia of his cantata, BWV 174, adding yet another trio of three oboes, as well as two horns to the orchestra.
Concerto No. 4
This concerto, probably one of the last of the six to be composed, is closest to the style of the Italian solo violin concertos, which so fascinated Bach in this period of his life. The work is in fact a combination of a solo concerto and a group concerto (concerto grosso). While there are three solo instruments--two recorders and a violin--pitted against the larger ensemble, it is the violin with its difficult passage work which dominates in the fast movements. The original score refers to the two wind instruments cryptically as "fiauti d'Echo," or "echo flutes," but the music itself leaves little doubt that recorders are intended. It has been suggested that Bach's peculiar designation may refer to the way the solo instruments echo the orchestra in the second movement, even though the violin also joins in the echos.
A decade later, in the 1730s, when Bach was transcribing a number of his earlier concertos for harpsichord, he reworked this piece, substituting a solo harpsichord for the violin and transposing the piece down a whole step to F major. Interestingly the tempo of the last movement, marked presto in the original Brandenburg Concerto, was slowed down a bit in the harpsichord version to allegro assai.
Concerto No. 5
For a modern audience, used to a long tradition of harpsichord and piano concertos, it may be difficult to recapture the sense of surprise and innovation that listeners must have experienced when this concerto was first performed. The three soloists in the Fifth Brandenburg Concerto are flute, violin and harpsichord. While the flute and violin had been frequently heard in concertos, this is believed to be the very first harpsichord concerto, an idea which may have been inspired by Bach's recent purchase of a new harpsichord in Berlin. Previously keyboard instruments had only been accompanists in the orchestra, whereas here, not only is the harpsichord elevated to soloist, but it gradually becomes the dominant soloist in the first movement.
Near the end of the first movement, the harpsichord figuration accelerates to 32nd notes, as the orchestra gradually slows down. Eventually the orchestra stops, and the harpsichord begins its famous solo cadenza, an extraordinary and unusually long one (sixty-five measures), expanded from an earlier and much simpler nineteen-measure cadenza. The longer and more famous version has far more than the free ornamental display of a normal cadenza. It continues the forward movement of the concerto in a long, tightly constructed arc and creates a sense of climax that is unusual for this kind of concerto. After building on material heard earlier in the movement, the left hand settles onto a dominant "A" in the bass, which is repeated through all the fast figuration that follows. As the cadenza builds toward the climactic entrance of the orchestra and we wait for the "A" in the bass to resolve, Bach increases the tension by slowing down the fast figuration, from 32nd notes to 16th-note triplets to 16th notes. Finally the string players, who have waited silently (a bit of stage drama not felt on an audio recording!), pick up their instruments and reenters with a repeat of the opening tutti to end the movement.
The second movement is for the three soloists alone, but it imitates in miniature the orchestral tuttis and solo passages of a normal concerto movement. At the beginning, at the end and at three key points in the middle, we hear the "orchestral" passages; these are marked forte and feature the violin and flute, while the harpsichord accompanies with continuo chords. For the rest, the harpsichord is once again the main solo instrument, while the violin and flute murmur occasional brief comments.
As the third movement begins, the soloists continue to play alone. The orchestra enters only after twenty-nine measures and then not en masse, but in individual contrapuntal entrances (another place where the visual drama on stage reinforces the musical drama). Such a transparent beginning establishes a character that is quite different from that of the first movement. Here the rhythms dance like a gigue, and the orchestral writing is lighter and more contrapuntal. The form is a simple A-B-A: following a middle section in the relative minor, the entire opening section is repeated.
Bach's scoring for the ensemble is unusual in that he completely omits the normal second violin part. In all probability, the reason for this was a practical one. Bach normally liked to play viola in the ensemble, but since he undoubtedly wrote the elaborate solo harpsichord part for himself to play, his small court band would have had no violist. Rather than leave the middle range of the viola part empty, the second violinist could easily have switched to viola, leaving only one orchestral violin.
Concerto No. 6
The Sixth Brandenburg Concerto has the darkest sound of any of the six concertos, for here Bach completely omits the violins and leaves the highest sounds to the middle-range violas. As we would expect from a concerto, Bach does contrast solo and tutti groups of instruments, but he must do so with minimal resources, since this work is really for a chamber ensemble. The solo trio of two violas and cello is contrasted with only four other instruments: harpsichord and violone playing the continuo bass and two violas da gamba filling in the middle voices. The viola da gamba, already something of an early instrument by Bach's time, lends a transparent sound that is exotic in a concerto ensemble. Indeed, the striking orchestration of this work suggests that it may have been written earlier than the other Brandenburgs, since in Weimar, Bach had written other music with similar low orchestrations. On the other hand, it may date from early in Bach's time at Cöthen (1717); Prince Leopold, his new employer, was an amateur gambist, and the relatively limited gamba parts in this concerto could perhaps have been meant to give Leopold a chance to play with the ensemble.
Boston Baroque Performances
Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 in F Major, BWV 1046
December 31, 2017 & January 1, 2018
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 30, 2017
Strand Theater, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 1, 1994
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1983
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 3, 1978
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F Major, BWV 1047
December 30, 1984
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1983
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major, BWV 1048
December 31, 2013 & January 1, 2014
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
March 13, 2009
Teatro de la Universidad de Puerto Rico (Casals Festival), San Juan, Puerto Rico
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2008 & January 1, 2009
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2005 & January 1, 2006
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 1, 1994
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 11, 1988
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
April 12, 1985
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1983
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
April 3, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 in G Major, BWV 1049
December 31, 2018 & January 1, 2019
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Christina Day Martinson, violin
Aldo Abreu, recorder
Priscilla Herreid, flute
December 30, 2018
Strand Theater, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Christina Day Martinson, violin
Aldo Abreu, recorder
Priscilla Herreid, oboe
December 31, 2013 & January 1, 2014
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2006 & January 1, 2007
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
Aldo Abreu, recorder
December 31, 1999 & January 1, 2000
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
Roy Sansom, recorder
January 1, 1993
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
Roy Sansom, recorder
December 31, 1992
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
Roy Sansom, recorder
December 30, 1984
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
Marilyn Boenau, bassoon
December 31, 1983
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
Kenneth Roth, oboe
October 15, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Scott-Martin Kosofsky, recorder
John Tyson, recorder
April 10, 1975
University Lutheran Church, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Linda Cummiskey, violin
Scott-Martin Kosofsky, recorder
John Tyson, recorder
Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major, BWV 1050
September 30, 1994
Harvard Business School, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Cleland Kinloch Earle, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
February 1, 1994
Colby-Sawyer College, New London, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Cleland Kinloch Earle, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
January 19, 1993
St. Anselm’s College, Manchester, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Julie Leven, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
January 1, 1993
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
December 31, 1992
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
January 21, 1992
St. Anselm’s College, Manchester, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Julie Leven, violin
Fenwick Smith, flute
November 26, 1990
University of New Hampshire, Durham, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Fenwick Smith, flute
November 16, 1990
NEC’s Jordan Hill, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Bernhard Forck, violin
Fenwick Smith, flute
July 29, 1990
Castle Hill, Ipswich, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Wendy Rolfe, flute
January 16, 1990
Gardner Museum, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Julie Leven, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
December 31, 1988
St. Paul’s Cathedral, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
April 23, 1988
Strawbery Banke, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Julie Leven, violin
Douglas Worthen, flute
November 13, 1987
St. Martin-in-the-Fields, London, England
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Sandra Miller, flute
November 9, 1987
Plymouth State College, Plymouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Jennifer Moreau, violin
Douglas Worthen, flute
February 14, 1987
Sturbridge Village, Sturbridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Jane Starkman, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
January 1, 1987
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
January 26, 1986
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, East Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
January 22, 1986
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, East Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
July 28, 1985
deCordova Museum, Lincoln, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Jane Starkman, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
July 25, 1985
King Ridge, New London, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Jane Starkman, violin
Fenwick Smith, flute
July 21, 1985
Southern Vermont Art Center, Manchester, VT
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Jane Starkman, violin
Fenwick Smith, flute
July 7, 1985
Charlestown Navy Yard, Charlestown, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
March 5, 1985
Baylor University, Waco, TX
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Linda Laderach, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
February 26, 1985
Troy Music Hall, Troy, NY
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Linda Laderach, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
February 23, 1985
Palace Civic Center, Lorain, OH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Linda Laderach, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
February 22, 1985
Olean High School Auditorium, Olean, NY
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Linda Laderach, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
February 3, 1985
Essex Junction Auditorium, Essex Junction, VT
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Wilma Smith, violin
Sand Dalton, oboe
December 30, 1984
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
December 31, 1983
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
September 29, 1983
Unicorn Park, Woburn, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Stephen Marvin, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
July 10, 1983
Indianapolis Museum of Art, Indianapolis, IN
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
November 3, 1982
State Street Church, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
November 1, 1982
Bay Chamber Concerts, Rockport, ME
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Christopher Krueger, flute
April 30, 1982
Chandler Music Hall, Randolph, VT
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Anthony Martin, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
February 28, 1982
Boston Athenaeum, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
February 6, 1981
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
August 6, 1980
King Ridge, New London, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Anthony Martin, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
July 23, 1980
Prescott Park, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Anthony Martin, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
April 15, 1980
Brown University, Providence, RI
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Carol Epple, flute
August 8, 1979
deCordova Museum, Lincoln, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Linda Cummiskey, violin
Nancy Joyce, flute
April 7, 1979
Cornell University, Ithaca, NY
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Jeanne Lamon, violin
Carol Epple, flute
December 5, 1978
King’s Chapel, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Jeanne Lamon, violin
Carol Epple, flute
May 8, 1977
Rockport Opera House, Rockport, ME
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Carol Epple, flute
November 7, 1975
deCordova Museum, Lincoln, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Linda Cummiskey, violin
Carol Epple, flute
March 28, 1974
University Lutheran Church, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
Daniel Stepner, violin
Carol Epple, flute
Brandenburg Concerto No. 6 in B-flat Major, BWV 1051
December 31, 2022 & January 1, 2023
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 1, 1993
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1992
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1983
Mechanics Hall, Worcester, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
February 6, 1981
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
The Musical Offering, BWV 1079
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
On May 7, 1747, Johann Sebastian Bach arrived at the palace of Frederick the Great in Potsdam, where his son Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach was employed as harpsichordist. Frederick, who was himself a flutist and musical connoisseur, had invited "old Bach" to come and play the instruments at the court and to exhibit his legendary skills in improvisation and counterpoint, skills that for Frederick were relics of an older generation. The event was covered in many German newspapers. Frederick, we are told, was about to start his evening concert, when he learned that Bach had arrived. According to one Berlin newspaper,
His August Self immediately gave orders that Bach be admitted and went, at his entrance, to the so-called "forte and piano," and without any preparation personally condescended to play Capellmeister Bach a theme that the latter should improvise into a fugue. This was accomplished so successfully by the aforementioned Capellmeister that not only His Majesty was pleased to show his satisfaction, but also all those present were seized with astonishment...
Frederick then challenged Bach to improvise a fugue in six voices on the same subject. However, since the subject was clearly chosen to be a difficult one, and since Bach found that "the improvisation did not want to succeed as befitted such an excellent theme," he chose another subject on which he improvised a six-voice fugue to the amazement of the king and the court.
On his return to Leipzig, Bach wrote a collection of music exploring the possibilities of Frederick's theme. His Musicalisches Opfer (Musical Offering) was engraved at his own expense and sent to Potsdam with a dedication to the king. Together with The Art of the Fugue, it is one of the great monuments of contrapuntal art from Bach's later years.
He uses Frederick's highly chromatic theme throughout the Musical Offering as the subject of fugues (ricercari) in three and six voices, as well as for ten different kinds of canons, and it is worked into the movements of a trio sonata. In the canons, not only are there some in which voices imitate each other exactly, but in other cases one voice may play a version of the theme, while a second voice plays it upside-down, backwards, or at a different speed. The feat is even more remarkable when one considers that not only did Bach not choose the subject himself, but that the chromatic theme given to him is actually quite awkward as a subject for counterpoint.
Stylistically The Musical Offering ranges from the "antique" style of the canons and the six-voice ricercar -- even the older term "ricercar," rather than "fugue" is a nod to earlier times -- and the more "modern" style of the trio sonata. No doubt the royal court looked on Bach as something of a curiosity from a past era, but the trio sonata was Bach's bow to the tastes at court.
With the exception of the trio sonata, which is for flute, violin and continuo, no instruments are specified in The Musical Offering. The three-voice ricercar, however, is written on two staves as if for keyboard, and it may possibly be close to the three-voice fugue that Bach improvised on the keyboard at Potsdam. The great six-voice ricercar is his solution to Frederick's challenge to improvise a six-voice fugue on his theme, a challenge that he at first declined. In Bach's engraved edition, it is printed in open score, i. e. with each of the six voices on a separate staff, but there is also a manuscript version for keyboard, and it could be no accident that the six voices always fall within the reach of ten fingers. However, six voices on a keyboard, particularly when they frequently cross over each other, tend to sound chordal and can obscure the lines of counterpoint, whereas the counterpoint is clearer with six separate instruments. Bach wrote no other six-voice fugues for keyboard alone, and this one has none of the idiomatic keyboard figuration that is in the three-voice ricercar. Thus it is often performed with six different instruments, although it is also sometimes heard to impressive effect on the harpsichord.
The flute part of the trio sonata is one of the most difficult pieces in the repertoire of the one- or two-keyed Baroque flute. Being in C minor -- Eb major for the slow movement -- it requires difficult cross-fingerings and has many weaker, "covered" notes. Why Bach wrote such a part for flute is difficult to say. One intriguing suggestion has been offered that, since Frederick had asked Bach to improvise a six-voice fugue on such a difficult subject, Bach may have reversed the challenge by giving Frederick, an accomplished amateur flutist, a daunting flute part to play.
Boston Baroque Performances
The Musical Offering, BWV 1079
January 24, 1974
University Lutheran Church, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Carol Epple, flute
Daniel Stepner, violin
Anthony Martin, violin
Laura Jeppesen, viola da gamba
Sarah Cunningham, viola da gamba
Jane Hershey, viola da gamba
Adrienne Hartzell, cello
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord
"Goldberg" Canons, BWV 1087
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In 1974, Bach's personal copy of the first edition of his Goldberg Variations was discovered in a private collection in France. In the back of the volume of this monumental harpsichord work is a page of previously unknown music written in Bach's hand and bearing the following title (in German): "Various canons on the first eight bass notes of the preceding aria." There follow fourteen canons, each of them based on those eight bass notes from the Goldberg Variations. Only two of the canons were previously known from other versions, one of them from a painted portrait in which Bach is holding a copy of it.
The canons are not written out like conventional music, but rather they are presented in the form of puzzles to be solved. Thus one of them presents the eight-note Goldberg motive and instructs the reader to play it simultaneously forwards and backwards, leaving the performer to figure out when the second voice should begin and on which note, so that the canon makes musical sense. From relatively simple two-voice canons, the set gradually becomes more complex. New material is added on top of the Goldberg bass line. In some, two voices of new material are each to be played in canon, while the bass plays the simple Goldberg motive. The number of voices increases as the canons grow more complex, until there is a triple canon in six voices. The final canon is written as a single line of music with the instruction that it is to be played by four instruments, all at different speeds. (The solution requires that two of them also play the line upside down.)
This all sounds like very intellectual stuff, and without question it is -- but the music is also beautiful and has a distinctive sound that one can enjoy without having to analyze its technical details. Bach probably was not thinking about a performance when he wrote these little canons. They appear to be more like intellectual musings by one of the greatest musical minds in history, but they can also be a fascinating experience in performance. In order to make them playable, though, a number of decisions have to be made. For one, we must decide what instruments should play them, since Bach did not specify any instruments. Another problem is that most of these canons are perpetual canons -- i. e. by the time the second voice finishes its music, the first has already started its line over again, leaving no clear ending point. One must therefore decide how many times a canon should repeat and then choose a stopping point.
Finally, one might decide to play through the set of canons more or less continuously, without significant breaks between them. Doing so can make a single work out of what would otherwise be fourteen extremely brief fragments. As the canons go from quite simple counterpoint on the Goldberg motive to increasingly complex music, the collection can begin to feel like a single unified piece with an overall direction and shape and with contrasts of character and tempo. Through it all, the constant repetition of the Goldberg bass line has an almost hypnotic effect, similar to the repeating bass of a chaccone.
Boston Baroque Performances
“Goldberg” Canons, BWV 1087
July 29, 1990
Castle Hill Festival, Ipswich, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 16, 1990
Gardner Museum, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1988
St. Paul’s Cathedral, Boston, MA (First Night)
Martin Pearlman, conductor
April 23, 1988
Strawbery Banke Festival, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 13, 1987
St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Philadelphia, PA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 9, 1987
Plymouth State College, Plymouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 15, 1987
George’s Island, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 17, 1986
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 21, 1986
Northwest Bach Festival, Spokane, WA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Mass in B minor, BWV 232
Choruses in 4, 5, 6 and 8 parts
Soloists: soprano 1, soprano 2, alto, tenor, bass
Orchestra: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 oboes d'amore, 2 bassoons,
3 trumpets, timpani, strings, continuo
***
Kyrie:
Kyrie eleison
Christe eleison (sopranos 1 & 2)
Kyrie eleison
Gloria:
Gloria in excelsis Deo / Et in terra pax
Laudamus te (soprano 2)
Gratias agimus tibi
Domine Deus (soprano 1, tenor)
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris (alto)
Quoniam tu solus sanctus (bass)
Cum Sancto Spiritu
Symbolum Nicenum (Credo):
Credo in unum Deum
Patrem omnipotentem
Et in unum Dominum (soprano 1, alto)
Et incarnatus est
Crucifixus
Et resurrexit
Et in spiritum sanctum (bass)
Confiteor
Et expecto resurrectionem
Sanctus:
Sanctus / Pleni sunt coeli
Osanna, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, Dona nobis pacem:
Osanna in excelsis
Benedictus (tenor)
Osanna in excelsis
Agnus Dei (alto)
Dona nobis pacem
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Although Bach's Mass in B Minor is revered for its overwhelming dramatic sweep and sense of unity, it was not originally created as a single work. It is made up of music composed over a 25-year period, some of it adapted, some of it new. Its manuscript is divided into four large sections with no overall title, and it came to be called the Mass in B minor only by later generations. It was not performed complete until 1859, more than a century after Bach's death.
The opening music, consisting of a Kyrie and Gloria, dates from 1733, when Bach presented it to the new Elector of Saxony, Frederick Augustus II. It was, he said, "a modest example of the learning I have acquired in music." In that original form with only a Kyrie and Gloria, the work was a complete missa brevis of the type that was common not only in Lutheran practice but also in some Catholic areas, including at the Elector's court in Dresden. (No other mass by Bach has more than those two sections.)
It was not until the late 1740's, near the end of his life, that Bach began to expand this work, already his largest and most complex mass, into a full Catholic mass. Why he did so has been the subject of much discussion. The work as we now have it is too large to be used in a normal church service. While some sections could have been useful in services at Bach's own church, the work was completed so late in his life -- indeed at a point when he was ill and no longer actively supplying new music -- that he may not have had a practical purpose in mind. The most convincing reason may well be that, toward the end of his life, Bach wished to gather and preserve many of his finest works for the church by assembling them into a collection, much like other late collections, such as The Art of the Fugue and the third part of the Clavierübung. In assembling his music into a complete Latin mass, Bach turned to a form with a classic tradition and a sense of permanence, one that transcended the tastes of his day and the specific practices of his own denomination.
To complete the mass, he needed to add a Credo (Symbolum Nicenum), a Sanctus, and a final section comprising the Osanna, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, and Dona nobis pacem. Most of the movements in these sections are reworkings of music that he had written earlier. For some, he borrowed and revised (often extensively) music from his own cantatas; in a few movements, he appears to have added choral parts to what may have been instrumental concertos that are now lost. The Sanctus, however, was originally a piece on its own, written back in 1724. Bach's decision to adapt these movements and include them in his Mass has doubtless not only given them a wider audience but, in some cases, may have saved them from being lost entirely.
Because the music is drawn from various sources, different sections sometimes require different performing forces. Most of the choruses are in either five or four voices. The Sanctus is the only one to call for a six-part chorus, as well as for a third oboe, and the final section (Osanna through Dona nobis pacem) calls for eight voices divided into two four-voice choruses. Yet despite these differences, the Mass has a compelling feeling of unity because of the care Bach has taken in structuring the whole.
The only performances of this work that are known for certain to have taken place in the eighteenth century are of separate sections: Bach's own performance of the Sanctus on Christmas Day of 1724 and a performance of the Credo by his son, Carl Philipp Emanuel, in 1786. C. P. E. Bach did refer to the work as a complete Catholic mass, but the first complete performance did not take place until 1859, more than a century after Johann Sebastian's death. When we perform the Mass in B minor as a complete work today, we are therefore not recreating a specific liturgical experience, as we are with Bach's cantatas. The complete Mass is the creation of the concert hall, and it offers all the brilliance and theatricality that are appropriate to that venue.
Details about individual movements
Missa (Kyrie and Gloria)
This first part of the Mass was presented to the Elector in Dresden and may have been performed as a missa brevis in April of 1733.
Gloria:
The fast opening section of this chorus is thought perhaps to have been adapted from a lost instrumental concerto. Not only does the writing suggest a concerto, but the instrumental parts were written into the manuscript first, suggesting that they may have been copied from a pre-existing piece.
Gratias agimus tibi:
This chorus comes from the opening movement of Cantata 29, which sets essentially the same text in German. The opening motive is based on the Gregorian chant for this text.
Qui tollis:
This is based on a chorus from Cantata 46, but the instrumental opening and middle sections have been omitted here.
Quoniam:
The unusual, extended solo for horn suggests that it may well have been inspired by the virtuoso tradition of horn playing at the Dresden court, where Bach presented his work to the Elector.
Credo
Credo:
Written in the "old style" (stile antico), this chorus is built on a chant line that develops into seven-voice counterpoint (five-voice chorus plus two independent violin lines), all unfolding over a walking bass.
Patrem omnipotentem:
This music is adapted from Cantata 171.
Et in unum Dominum:
Bach revised this duet when he later inserted the chorus that follows it, so that their texts would not overlap. As a result, some of the word painting by the instruments no longer falls on the words for which it was originally intended.
Et incarnatus est:
Bach inserted this chorus later, in order to make a trilogy of choruses at this point. That put the Crucifixus at the exact center of the Credo and made the Credo completely symmetrical in its order of choruses and solo arias.
Crucifixus:
This central movement of the Credo has the hypnotic repeating bass line of a passacaglia. Remarkably, the bass line, which repeats every four bars, is never harmonized the same way twice. This movement is adapted from a chorus in Cantata 12 and is written in larger note values to suggest an older style.
Et resurrexit:
The style of this music suggests that it may be based on a lost instrumental concerto. If so, considerable adaptation would have been necessary, including, of course, adding the chorus. In the middle, an extended ornamental bass line suggests performance by a vocal soloist, rather than the choral basses.
Confiteor:
This extraordinary movement in five voice parts was newly composed for this mass. About half way through, Bach introduces the simple Gregorian chant for the Confiteor text, weaving it into the complex counterpoint. Toward the end, the music slows down and becomes intensely chromatic, as it comes to the words, "I await the resurrection of the dead."
Et expecto resurrectionem:
This is adapted from Cantata 120 with various additions, cuts and revisions, but Bach adds a fifth voice to the original four-voice chorus of the cantata.
Sanctus
This movement, written for Christmas of 1724, is the only part of this mass known for certain to have been performed by Bach. It is also the only movement to require a six-voice chorus, as well as a third oboe.
Osanna to end
Osanna:
Adapted from the secular Cantata 215, a work originally written to celebrate the Elector of Saxony's election as King of Poland.
Benedictus:
The solo instrument for this beautiful aria is not specified. It goes too high for a baroque oboe but could be for either flute or violin. Since the figuration is typical of Bach's flute writing, and since the music never goes below the bottom note of a baroque flute, it is normally played by that instrument.
Agnus Dei:
Adapted from Cantata 11, with extensive alterations, this poignant aria is the only piece in the mass in a flat key.
Dona nobis pacem:
This closing movement of the mass repeats the music of the Gratias agimus tibi, with small adaptations to fit the new text. As mentioned above, the opening motive of the Gratias was based on the Gregorian chant for that text; but here the motive is again appropriate, since the chant for the Dona nobis is almost the same as that for the Gratias.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Mass in B minor, BWV 232
October 15 & 16, 2022
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Sonja Tengblad, soprano
Tamara Mumford, mezzo-soprano
Nicholas Phan, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
October 21 & 23, 2016
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Kiera Duffy, soprano
Jennifer Rivera, mezzo-soprano
David Daniels, countertenor
Aaron Sheehan, tenor
Jesse Blumberg, baritone
May 13 & 15, 1999
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nicole Heaston, soprano
Theodora Hanslowe, mezzo-soprano
Ellen Rabiner, contralto
Mark Tucker, tenor
Nathan Berg, bass-baritone
February 6, 1987
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Janice Felty, mezzo-soprano
Pamela Dellal, mezzo-soprano
Kenneth Fitch, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
February 28, 1981
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Susan Larson, soprano
D’Anna Fortunato, mezzo-soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Ray DeVoll, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
Magnificat in D Major, BWV 243
Chorus: S-S-A-T-B
Soloists: Soprano 1, soprano 2, alto, tenor, bass
Orchestra: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 oboes d'amore, 3 trumpets, timpani, strings, continuo
***
Magnificat
Quia respexit
Quia fecit mihi magna
Et misericordia eius
Fecit potentiam
Deposuit potentes
Suscepit Israel
Gloria patri
Sicut erat in principio
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In 1723, for his first Christmas as cantor of the St. Thomas Church in Leipzig, Bach presented a newly composed setting of the Magnificat. It was a grand, celebratory work with a five-voice chorus and a colorful variety of instruments, and Bach expanded the Magnificat text itself by interpolating settings of several traditional Christmas songs between movements. This was the original Eb-major version of his Magnificat, and it was Bach's largest such work up to that point.
About a decade later, he reworked the piece, lowering the key from Eb to the more conventional trumpet key of D major, altering some of the orchestration, and, perhaps most importantly, removing the Christmas inserts, so that the work could be performed at a variety of festivals during the liturgical year. It is this later D major version of the Magnificat that is normally heard today.
Despite its brilliance and grandeur, Bach's Magnificat is a relatively short work. Nonetheless, it is filled with countless fascinating details. The tenor opens his aria Deposuit with a violent descending F# minor scale to depict the text "He hath put down [the mighty]". At the end of the alto aria Esurientes, Bach illustrates the words "He hath sent the rich away empty" by having the solo flutes omit their final note. In the movement Suscepit Israel, the oboes play the old plainchant of the Magnificat in long notes against the faster moving vocal parts. Finally, there is the stirring moment near the end, at the words sicut erat in principio ("thus it was in the beginning"), where Bach brings back the music from the beginning of the work.
Boston Baroque Performances
Magnificat in D Major, BWV 243
March 14, 2009
Centro de Bellas Artes Luis A. Ferré (Casals Festival), San Juan, Puerto Rico
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Mary Wilson, soprano
Leah Wool, mezzo-soprano
Mary Phillips, mezzo-soprano
Kerem Kurk, tenor
David Kravitz, baritone
March 4 & 5, 2005
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Tamara Matthews, soprano
Deanne Meek, mezzo-soprano
Mary Phillips, mezzo-soprano
Don Frazure, tenor
Stephen Powell, baritone
May 7, 1993
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Dominique Labelle, soprano
Mary Ann Hart, mezzo-soprano
Eleanor Kelley, mezzo-soprano
Bruce Fowler, tenor
David Arnold, baritone
January 1, 1988
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Pamela Dellal, mezzo-soprano
Marylene Altieri, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244
Libretto by Christian Friedrich Henrici (Picander)
First performance: Leipzig, April 11, 1727 (Good Friday)
Evangelist (tenor)
Jesus (bass)
Chorus I: S-A-T-B
Soloists for chorus I: soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Orchestra I: 2 recorders, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 oboes d'amore, 2 oboes da caccia,
strings, viola da gamba, continuo
Chorus II: S-A-T-B
Soloists for chorus II: soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Orchestra II: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 oboes d'amore, strings, viola da gamba, continuo
III: Soprano choir in ripieno
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The St. Matthew Passion, the second of the two Bach passions that have come down to us, is an astonishing musical conception and the largest work in Bach's output. It was the last major religious work in which he did not borrow significantly from his earlier music. The libretto is by Christian Friedrich Henrici, who wrote under the pen name of Picander and was the librettist for many of Bach's cantatas. This monumental work was first performed on Good Friday of 1727. It is thought to have been performed again two years later, but in 1736, when Bach performed the work yet again, he made significant revisions. The earliest musical material that we have comes from that 1736 version, and it is in its revised form that we know the work today. Bach clearly felt it to be a finished work at that point: he meticulously copied out this revised version in a beautiful manuscript using red ink for biblical passages and for the chorale tune in the opening movement.
The work is written for two separate choruses, each with its own orchestra. In addition, there is a third chorus of sopranos that sings chorale tunes in the opening and closing movements of Part I. Among the significant changes that Bach made in 1736, he divided the continuo, which had originally been shared between the two orchestras, so that each orchestra now had its own bass section. In addition, he replaced the simple chorale that ended Part I with the massive chorale fantasia O Mensch bewein' dein Sünde groß, which originally had been the opening chorus of his St. John Passion. It was also in 1736 that a gamba replaced the lute as the solo instrument in the aria Komm süßes Kreuz.
The drama of the St. Matthew Passion is multi-layered. The narrative portions are from the gospel of St. Matthew (chapters 26-27) and are sung primarily in recitative by the Evangelist, Jesus and singers in several minor roles. In a second layer are arias and choruses on poetry by Picander that reflect on the narrative. This is played out between the two choruses and orchestras, each of which has its own soloists. The division of performing forces into two groups is in Picander's poem, where the arias and choruses outside the gospel narrative are in the form of a dialogue between "the Daughters of Zion" and "the Faithful." Every aria or chorus represents one or both of these allegorical characters and is sung and played by the appropriate chorus and orchestra or by soloists associated with it. In a few choruses, including the opening chorus, they engage in a dialogue that turns at times to questions and answers. The dialogue between the two is a dialogue across the centuries between those who actually witnessed the passion and those who know it through their faith.
Still another layer to the drama is in the chorales, which play a central role in the work. The Lutheran hymns, which were familiar to the members of Bach's congregation, represent the congregation and their involvement in the passion (although the congregation did not sing them along with the performers). Not only are simple chorales sung at important moments in the drama, but chorale tunes are worked into other pieces, such as the great closing chorus of Part I, O Mensch bewein' dein Sünde groß, in which the soprano line is a chorale tune. In the tenor recitative O Schmerz, the second chorus answers each phrase of the soloist with a phrase of a four-part chorale.
In the massive opening chorus, Kommt, ihr Töchter, we hear a profound mixture of all these elements. It begins with the Daughters of Zion (chorus I) asking the Faithful (chorus II) to join in their lament. Following a question and answer dialogue, the faithful do join in the lament. Then, layered on top of the elaborate music of their dialogue, a third choir of sopranos begins to sing the chorale O Lamm Gottes, unschuldig (O innocent lamb of God) at the moment that they speak of Jesus as a lamb. The chorale tune in the key of G major is a brighter moment in the dark E minor of this chorus of lamentation.
Symbolism
This work is full of extraordinary pictorial details, as well as religious and musical symbolism. To cite just a few, there is the moment when Jesus tells his disciples that one of them will betray him and the chorus asks, "Is it I?" eleven times, accounting for all the disciples except Judas. In recitatives, Jesus is accompanied by a "halo" of string chords whenever he speaks, except when he asks, "My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" In the opening chorus, the main motive is momentarily obscured when the soprano and alto parts cross over each other at the first mention of the word "cross." At the mention of the crucifixion, the evangelist frequently shifts from a key with flats to a key with sharps or to a sharped note, the sharp sign being visually a cross. In fact, some writers have suggested that the contrast between sharp keys and flat keys is used on a larger structural level to depict the contrast between body and spirit. One of the principal turning points from flats to sharps in Part I is in the middle of the sentence, "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Following the death of Jesus on the cross, the work shifts from music that is predominantly in keys with sharps to a closing section entirely in flats.
Performance issues: soprano chorus and harpsichord
An intriguing entry in the church records in Leipzig shows that the St. Matthew Passion was performed in 1736 at the Thomaskirche "with both organs." Here we have a clue not only as to what keyboard instruments were used, but also as to the placement of the third (soprano) chorus. In Bach's time, the two organs at the Thomaskirche were on opposite walls. The gallery on the east wall with the smaller and older organ was too small to hold a chorus and orchestra, and it would, in any case, have been extremely difficult to keep two orchestras and choruses together across such a distance in such complex music. If the small organ was used at all -- and we are told that it was -- it must have been used with the small soprano chorus, which sings two chorales in Part I. That could have created a dramatic effect with the chorales sounding from across the church.
In the main organ loft, each orchestra had to have its own keyboard instrument -- at least in the definitive 1736 version. One would have been the organ in that gallery, but what would the second instrument have been? There are two possibilities: either a small portative organ could have been brought in or, perhaps more likely, a harpsichord could have been used. Recent scholarship has shown that Bach did occasionally use a harpsichord in his church music, and at least one performance of St. Matthew must have used it, since a copy of the continuo part for the second orchestra, written out by Bach's son Johann Christoph Friedrich specifies harpsichord. Using a harpsichord could give the second orchestra a distinctive sound and could increase the dramatic contrast between the two ensembles.
A final thought about the soprano chorus, the third chorus that sings the chorale in the opening movement: a modern tradition has grown up of using boys for that chorus, but in Bach's day, the sopranos in all the choruses were boys. There is no reason to think that he necessarily wanted a different vocal sound for that one chorale line. Thus if a performance today has women sopranos in the main choruses, it might be reasonable to use women for the soprano chorus, as well.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244
April 3, 1992
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Frank Kelley - Evangelist
Myron Myers - Jesus
Patrice Michaels Bedi, soprano
Pamela Dellal, mezzo-soprano
Bruce Fowler, tenor
William Sharp, baritone
April 13, 1984
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Frank Kelley - Evangelist
James Maddalena - Jesus
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Kim Scown, tenor
Sanford Sylvan, baritone
St. John Passion, BWV 245
First performance: Leipzig, April 7, 1724 (Good Friday)
Chorus: S-A-T-B
Soloists: Evangelist (tenor), Jesus (bass), soprano, alto, tenor, bass,
smaller roles for Pilatus (bass), Petrus (bass), Ancilla (soprano), Servus (tenor)
Orchestra: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, oboe d'amore, 2 oboes da caccia, bassoon,
2 violas d'amore, viola da gamba, lute, strings, continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Bach's obituary, written by his son Carl Philipp Emanuel and his student Johann Friedrich Agricola, tells us that he wrote five settings of the passion story. However of those five, we only know for certain of three: a lost St. Mark Passion and the two towering masterpieces that have come down to us, the St. John and the St. Matthew.
Bach first performed his St. John Passion on Good Friday of 1724. Written three years before his St. Matthew Passion, it was the climax of his first full season of cantatas in Leipzig and his largest work to date. It was a work that he would revise and revive intermittently till the end of his life and one on which he clearly placed a high value. But until recent times, it was often considered a lesser sister to the St. Matthew and was performed less frequently. That attitude has changed somewhat in the past several decades, but the work did have early advocates: Robert Schumann, who conducted the John Passion in 1851, felt that it was "more daring, forceful and poetic" than the Matthew Passion, and in our time, John Eliot Gardner has called it "the more radical of Bach's surviving passion settings." To be sure, the Matthew Passion is more massive even than this large work and requires greater performing forces. But what is sometimes seen as simpler construction in the St. John come from its more direct storytelling and its greater focus on the dramatic narrative. Because the structure closely follows the drama, it can have a more operatic feel than the more complex and contemplative St. Matthew, especially in the extraordinarily intense trial scene.
The drama is played out on multiple levels. Arias take us outside the tragic narrative at strategic points to reflect on the action, and chorales bring us forward into the present day to focus on the congregation and each member's relation to the passion story. The chorales, in particular, provide moments of stability: although the congregation in all likelihood did not sing them along with the choir, the simple harmonized melodies would have been familiar and reassuring to them. Thus, at the end of the whole work, a chorale is placed after the last chorus to end with a strong affirmation and to return the congregation to the present day.
The passion music is in two parts, the first to be performed immediately before the sermon and the second to be performed after it. Bach's anonymous librettist drew on poetry from various writers for the aria texts. The gospel narrative is, of course, from St. John, but, to heighten the drama, Bach inserts two dramatic episodes from the gospel of St. Matthew -- the crowing of the cock after Peter denies knowing Jesus and the earthquake that follows the crucifixion.
"It's just as if we were at an opera!"
For its time, the St. John Passion presented its story in a relatively new and still somewhat controversial style. Already in the previous century, composers and their librettists had begun to augment the original gospel text of the passion with contemplative poetry and familiar hymns, so that the narrative, sung mainly in recitative, could be interspersed with arias and chorales to reflect on the story. By Bach's time, some settings even paraphrased the story of the passion entirely in the words of the librettist. The most famous example of this type was that of the Hamburg poet and senator Barthold Heinrich Brockes, which was set to music by many composers, including Handel and Telemann.
This kind of "passion-oratorio," with its interpolated arias and chorales, was popular in some parts of Germany, but it was not always welcomed by more conservative Lutherans. One writer who criticized the practice claimed to have overheard a woman exclaim, "God save us, my children! It's just as if we were at an opera."
In conservative Leipzig, this newer, more dramatic type of passion music was introduced into the Good Friday service a mere two years before Bach took up his post there. It would be fascinating to know the reaction of the congregation to the heightened drama and expanded scope of Bach's first passion, to know whether it was an unwelcome shock or was well received. Unfortunately, we have no direct comments on the event, although, as noted below, the city council did force Bach to make some changes for subsequent performances.
Instruments
Throughout the St. John Passion, colorful orchestration intensifies the sense of mystery and drama. The work opens with a magical sound: a restless, turbulent accompaniment in the strings with anguished dissonances in the winds, all of it leading up to the cry of the chorus at its first entrance.
But the sonorities in this work are striking throughout, particularly when Bach calls for unusual instruments: a solo viola da gamba at the moment of Jesus' death, two violas d'amore together with a lute in the arioso and aria, Betrachte, meine Seel / Erwäge, or the ethereal sound of the wooden flute and oboe da caccia in the tragic Zerfließe, mein Herze. Of these instruments, the oboe da caccia was a newcomer; this curved tenor oboe with its peculiar brass bell had only recently been developed, and Bach was one of the first composers to write for it. The viola d'amore, part viol and part violin, with seven bowed strings and seven more strings vibrating sympathetically beneath them, creates an intensely introspective sonority at the scourging of Jesus.
A harpsichord may well have been used in addition to the organ, since Bach insisted that the church repair its harpsichord before the premiere. However, not having any indication of exactly where the harpsichord would have played, that decision must be left today to the performer.
For a special holiday such as Good Friday, Bach was able to combine the musical forces of the Thomas and Nikolai churches into a larger ensemble than normal. With his augmented forces plus special instruments, such as gamba, lute and harpsichord, Bach had to insist that the church provide more room in its choir loft for the premiere.
Versions
There are four versions of the St. John Passion, written for four different performances. No version is generally considered the final, finished form of the piece, although Bach did revert for the most part to his original version later in his life.
Version 1 was written for the premiere in 1724. The score to this original version is lost, although some of the parts for individual musicians have survived. Nonetheless, most of it can be reconstructed, since it was used as the basis of a manuscript that Bach began to copy out with minor revisions fifteen years later but that was then finished by a student.
Version 2 comes from the following year, 1725, when Bach repeated the work on Good Friday. This time, there were major changes. Perhaps he did not want to present it in exactly the same form two years in a row, but it is more likely that the changes were demanded by the city council, which often acted as censor for the parts of the text that were not directly from the gospel. Here the opening chorus was entirely replaced by a new one, O Mensch, bewein dein Sünden groß. (Bach later restored the original chorus and inserted this new one into his St. Matthew Passion.) Some of the arias and chorales were replaced, as well.
Version 3 from 1732 took out all the new material from Version 2 and reverted to the original form of the piece. But it also removed the two insertions from the St. Matthew gospel, including the dramatic earthquake -- perhaps at the insistence of the city council. How Bach patched up the resulting holes in the drama we will never know, because the music for those patches has been lost. We do know that an orchestral sinfonia substituted for the earthquake. He also replaced the distinctive color of the lute and violas d'amore with organ and violins, possibly because players of those special instruments were not available.
In 1739, there was supposed to have been another performance, for which Bach began yet another revision, but, because the city council again insisted on changes, he angrily cancelled the performance and did not complete the revision.
In 1749, the year before he died, writing in a shaky hand, Bach created Version 4. Perhaps knowing that he had not long to live, he was working to complete his Mass in B minor, evidently trying to preserve both that work and this passion in a finished form. Under the circumstances, he seems to have been less worried about the city council and more concerned with putting the passion into the form that he really wanted, restoring the instruments and the music from his original version. The only concessions he seems to have made to the council are a few changes in the lyrics to soften some of the imagery. Just two months after Version 4 was performed, the city advertised for a successor to be hired in the event of Bach's death.
Controversy in our time
In recent decades, many people have been uncomfortable with the St. John Passion because of its depiction of the Jews. Much has been written about the issue, and performances now often carry "warning labels" in the form of pre-concert discussions or notes. It is beyond the scope and expertise of these notes to go deeply into the matter, but it does appear that many scholars see the controversy as being about the source text, rather than Bach's musical setting. Some suggest reasons why the apostle John would have shifted the blame from the Roman rulers onto the Jews, even though the trial and crucifixion were typical Roman practices. Be that as it may, Bach was given the pre-existing gospel text to set to music for the Good Friday service, but he himself may well have had no personal experience with Jews, since they were not allowed to live in Saxony at that time. He does appear to have shown a sense of religious tolerance. Not only did he, as a Lutheran, work for a number of years for a Calvinist prince and also write a Catholic mass, but his markings in his personal copy of an annotated bible emphasize passages in the notes that are favorable toward Judaism, passages about the importance of Jewish writings and of King David as a source of the art of music.
A great work such as the St. John Passion speaks to our time, as well as to Bach's, and therefore it includes elements that may trouble our modern sensibilities, along with all its profound and deeply moving music. There is no reason that we cannot accept both as valuable parts of our modern experience of this work, as well as of many other great works of art from the past.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
St. John Passion, BWV 245
February 27 & 28, 2015
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
John Mark Ainsley - Evangelist
Andrew Garland - Jesus
Mary Wilson, soprano
Christopher Lowrey, countertenor
Nicholas Phan, tenor
Jesse Blumberg, baritone
Ah! Perfido, op. 65
Scene and aria for soprano and orchestra
Orchestra: 1 flute, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Beethoven's Ah! perfido, a dramatic scene for soprano and orchestra, is a monologue for a woman who has been deserted by her lover. In its recitative and aria, she vacillates between asking the gods to punish her lover and wanting them to show him mercy. The work is modeled on the Scena di Berenice, which Haydn had composed only a year earlier, and, as in Haydn's cantata, the text for the recitative is by the popular librettist Metastasio. The author of the aria text is unknown.
Despite the high opus number given by a publisher, this is a relatively early work. It was premiered in Leipzig in 1796 by the well-known soprano Josefa Duschek, for whom Mozart had earlier written two concert arias. Some twelve years later, Beethoven brought the work to Vienna, as part of a four-hour marathon "Academy" concert of his music, but there the work did not fare so well. For the Vienna premiere, he hired the celebrated soprano Anna Milder, who a few years earlier had sung the role of Leonore in his opera Fidelio, but the irascible Beethoven, who had already alienated most of the orchestra, quarreled with her and she withdrew from the concert. On short notice, she was replaced by a seventeen-year-old singer who had not yet performed professionally. Not surprisingly, she suffered a tremendous attack of stage fright as she went on stage with Beethoven, and this difficult work, to say the least, did not go well. The reputation of Ah! perfido has, of course, long since recovered from that early disaster, and the work is today a popular show piece for sopranos. It might be added that the unfortunate young soprano, Josephine Killitschky, also recovered and built a successful career, which included singing the role of Lenore in Beethoven's Fidelio in Berlin.
Boston Baroque Performances
Ah! perfido
March 4 & 5, 2016
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Ana Marie Labin, soprano
October 15 & 16, 2010
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Barbara Quintiliani, soprano
Elegischer Gesang (Elegiac Song), op. 118
for soprano, alto, tenor, bass with 2 violins, viola, and cello
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The Elegiac Song was written in the summer of 1814 for Beethoven's friend, supporter and former landlord, Baron Johann Pasqualati in memory of his wife, who had died in childbirth three years earlier. The text is anonymous, perhaps written by Pasqualati himself. Beethoven's original setting was for four solo voices with string quartet, but he also provided an alternative version with piano accompaniment. It is sometimes also performed with a small chorus and string ensemble.
He composed this small, rarely heard gem at the beginning of a difficult time in his life, a period in which he produced few major works but appeared to be finding his way toward a new musical vocabulary and new compositional approaches. His "heroic" period, as it is often called, was over: he had already written all of his concertos and all but his last symphony. The more abstract, introspective style of his late quartets and last piano sonatas was still some years in the future.
While the Elegiac Song can hardly be said to anticipate the style of the late quartets, it does reflect a sense of searching, a sense that nothing is conventional, even in a small piece written for a friend. Harmonically it often goes in directions we would not expect based on his earlier music. Rhythmically there are surprises too, as when chords are unexpectedly sustained before resolving, and there are irregular phrase lengths. Even dynamics are sometimes unusual: they are generally soft, except for a few brief swellings of emotion at the words "für den Schmerz" (for sorrow) and "des himmlischen Geistes" (of the heavenly spirit).
Gently, as you lived,
thus have you died,
too holy for sorrow!
Let no eye shed tears
for the heavenly spirit's return home.
Sanft, wie du lebtest,
hast du vollendet,
zu heilig für den Schmerz!
Kein Auge wein' ob
des himmlischen Geistes Heimkehr.
Fidelio, op. 72
Opera in two acts
Libretto by Joseph Sonnleithner and Friedrich Treitschke
Based on French libretto by Jean-Nicolas Bouilly
Premieres:
First version, November 20, 1805
Second version, March 29, 1806
Third version, May 23, 1814
Cast:
Florestan, a political prisoner (tenor)
Leonore, wife of Florestan disguised as a man named Fidelio (soprano)
Rocco, the jailer (bass)
Marzelline, Rocco's daughter (soprano)
Jacquino, Rocco's assistant (tenor)
Don Pizzaro, governor of the prison (baritone)
Don Fernando, minister of the king (baritone)
Two prisoners (tenor, baritone)
Chorus of soldiers, prisoners and townspeople
Orchestra:
Piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon,
4 horns, 2 trumpets, offstage trumpet, 2 trombones, timpani, and strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
"Of all my children, this is the one that caused me the most painful birth pangs and the most sorrows." (Beethoven)
Beethoven first attempted to write an opera when he received a commission from Emanuel Schikaneder, the theater director who years earlier had written the libretto for Mozart's The Magic Flute. Schikaneder's libretto for Vestas Feuer was set in ancient Rome, but after struggling with it for a short time and composing about 10 minutes of music, Beethoven abandoned the project, complaining that it was trivial and poorly written ("verses such as could only come out of the mouths of our Viennese women apple-vendors").
He then began work on what would become his only opera, Leonore, later to be retitled Fidelio. While he was able to adapt some of his musical ideas from Vestas Feuer, this would be an entirely different kind of undertaking. It was more in the vein of the "rescue operas" that became popular after the French Revolution, particularly those of Cherubini, whom Beethoven admired. Fidelio deals with political ideals: tyranny, heroism, and liberation. It tells the story of Leonore, who disguises herself as a male prison guard named Fidelio in order to rescue her husband Florestan from being put to death as a political prisoner.
The libretto was based on Jean-Nicolas Bouilly's libretto Léonore, ou l'amour conjugale ("Leonora, or Marital Love"), and, according to Bouilly, it recounted a true incident that took place in Tours during the time of the Terror. However, to avoid the censors and political trouble, he set his story in Spain at an earlier period. Bouilly's libretto had already been set to music three times, once in French and twice in Italian, by the time that Beethoven's friend Joseph Sonnleithner prepared a German libretto for him. Sonnleithner based his version closely on Bouilly's original, providing spoken dialogue between musical numbers.
First version
The opera was finished in its original form toward the end of the summer of 1805, but its premiere was delayed by the Viennese censors, as well as by insufficient time to rehearse the difficult orchestral music and the daunting vocal writing. The opera finally did open on November 20 at the Theater an der Wien. Against Beethoven's wishes, the theater changed the title of the opera from Leonore, oder der Triumph der ehelichen Liebe ("Leonore, or the Triumph of Marital Love") to Fidelio, in order to distinguish it from the earlier Leonore operas.
The timing of the premiere could not have been worse. That month Napoleon's army occupied Vienna and most of Beethoven's noble patrons fled the city. On opening night, the theater was full of French officers, and the remaining two performances played to empty houses. This first version of the opera was not well received. It was criticized as being long and repetitious, and although there was beautiful music in it, it was considered symphonic rather than theatrical and dramatic. Critics compared it unfavorably with the operas of Mozart and Cherubini.
Second version
At the encouragement of his friends, Beethoven almost immediately began shortening and revising both the music and the libretto. There were major changes to the libretto, including some reordering of events, and the original three acts were reduced to two. The opera reopened in this second version on March 29, 1806, a mere four months after the premiere. This time the reaction of the press and the public was more positive, but the work was still under-rehearsed and poorly performed. The cast of singers, almost all of them the same as in the previous production, still had trouble with the vocal writing, and Beethoven raged at the poor choral singing and at the orchestra, which ignored his dynamics in their effort to survive the difficulties of their parts. Perhaps Fidelio would eventually have succeeded, but he angrily demanded the return of his score and withdrew the work after only two performances.
Third (final) version
Beethoven then turned to other music until 1814, eight years later, when three singers asked him to resurrect his opera for a benefit concert. One of them was Anna Milder, who had been the original Leonore at 19 years of age but who was now a mature singer famous for her roles in the operas of Gluck and Cherubini. Beethoven turned to the poet Georg Friedrich Treitschke, who further cut and revised the libretto and made more changes to the order of events. "I have read your amendments to the opera with great pleasure," Beethoven wrote, "[and] they determine me the more to rebuild the desolate ruins of an old castle." For his part, he rewrote the music in the finales, revised a great deal of the rest of the opera, and simplified some of the vocal writing. But he found it difficult to revisit an old work: "I could write something new more quickly than add new things to old as now."
One major change occurs at the beginning of Act II. Treitschke objected that Florestan, who at that point is nearly dead of hunger, should not then sing a bravura aria. They decided that he would instead have an ecstatic vision of Leonore appearing to him as an angel. Having written the words, Treitschke handed them to Beethoven. "He read, ran up and down the room, muttered, growled, as was his habit instead of singing -- and tore open the pianoforte. . . He placed the text in front of him and began to improvise marvellously . . . He would not permit himself to be disturbed. It was late when he embraced me, and declining the meal, he hurried home. The next day the admirable composition was finished."
The opera was at last a great success and had to be repeated a number of times in the following weeks. It was in many ways a different work from the one originally heard in 1805, and it is this third version that is normally performed today. In this final version, Fidelio still begins with the simplicity and light tone of an eighteenth-century comedy, but it soon becomes a deeper drama about courage and universal liberation, something more akin to the "Ode to Joy" in the Ninth Symphony than to a typical opera.
The four overtures
Over the course of its three versions, Beethoven wrote four different overtures for his opera. What is known today as the Leonore Overture No. 2 was played at the 1805 premiere. It was then rewritten for the second production in 1806 and became what we know today as the Leonore Overture No. 3, but that symphonic work summarizing the action of the drama was criticized for its length and for overwhelming the light tone at the beginning of the opera. It is, as Wagner put it, "not the overture to the drama; it is the drama itself."
Thus for the final version in 1814, Beethoven decided to write an entirely new overture that would be lighter and shorter than the Leonore overtures. The night before the 1814 opening, he dined with friends and stayed afterwards to sketch ideas for the new overture on the bill. When he didn't show up for the final rehearsal the following morning, Treitschke drove to Beethoven's lodgings: "He lay in bed sleeping soundly; beside him stood a goblet with wine and a biscuit in it; the sheets of the overture were scattered on the bed and the floor. A burnt-out candle showed that he had worked far into the night." Without being able to rehearse the overture, a different overture was substituted on the first night. The new Fidelio Overture was introduced at the second performance to an enthusiastic reception.
There is, of course, a Leonore Overture No. 1, which was discovered only after Beethoven's death. It is a simpler work, so numbered because it was originally thought to be the earliest draft, but it is now known to have been adapted in 1808 for a revival which never took place.
While the second and third Leonore overtures are often heard as independent concert pieces, it was Mahler who popularized the idea of inserting the Leonore No. 3 during the scene change before the second act finale. That became a tradition for some conductors in the twentieth century, among them Toscanini and Klemperer, even though such a lengthy interruption to the drama is something that Beethoven never envisioned.
Later performances
If Napoleon's occupation of Vienna had put a cloud over the 1805 premiere of Beethoven's opera, the atmosphere was far brighter for its revival in 1814. By then, Napoleon had been defeated and was in exile on the island of Elba. Some months after the triumph of Fidelio in its final version, the opera was performed before dignitaries at the Congress of Vienna. It was a celebration of freedom following the defeat of Napoleon, a message that continued to resonate in later times. At the end of World War II, it was Fidelio that reopened many European opera houses, including the State Opera in Vienna; and years later, performances of Fidelio were associated with the fall of the Berlin wall.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Fidelio, Op. 72
April 13 & 15, 2018
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Mark Streshinsky, stage director
Soloists:
Wendy Brynn Harmer - Leonore (Fidelio)
William Burden - Florestan
Nathan Stark - Rocco
Anna Christy - Marzelline
Andrew Stenson - Jaquino
Mark Walters - Don Pizzaro
Brian Kontes - Don Fernando
Matthew Anderson - First prisoner
Ryne Cherry - Second prisoner
Overture to The Creatures of Prometheus (Die Geschöpfe des Prometheus), Op. 43
2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, and strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In 1800, the 29-year-old Beethoven received a major commission to write his first work for the stage, a ballet based on the Prometheus myth. It was to be presented at the Hofburg Theater in Vienna with choreography by the well-known dancer Salvatore Vigano. Beethoven was later said to have been disappointed in the story line of the ballet, which does not include Prometheus's rebellion or punishment. In it, Prometheus fashions two human figures and brings them to life, but, finding himself unable to teach them reason, he takes them to Apollo to experience music, to the muses to learn tragedy, comedy and dance, and to Bacchus to feel the joys of wine. Only then are they ready to be fully human.
The premiere of The Creatures of Prometheus took place on March 28, 1801, and the work was repeated 23 times in that and the following year. It was an important success for Beethoven, leading eventually to the commission for his opera Fidelio. The complete music for the ballet consisted of an overture, introduction and sixteen numbers, but, since the overture was, for a time, the only overture that Beethoven had written, he often performed it separately to open concerts of his music.
Boston Baroque Performances
Overture to The Creatures of Prometheus, Op. 43
March 4 & 5, 2016
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 2 in Bb for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 19
For piano solo with 1 flute, 2 oboes, 2 bassoons, 2 horns and strings
Allegro con brio
Adagio
Rondo: Molto allegro
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
With this sparkling concerto, the 24-year-old Beethoven made his debut as a pianist and composer before the Viennese public on March 29, 1795. According to the Wiener Zeitung, there was "unanimous applause," and the young musician had the honor of performing the concerto later that same year with the esteemed Haydn conducting.
Over the next several years, he continued to play the work as a show piece but revised it several times. On one memorable occasion, when Beethoven decided to write an entirely new third movement -- the one that he eventually published -- his friend Wegeler reported that "not until the afternoon of the second day before the concert did he write the rondo, and then while suffering from a pretty severe colic which frequently afflicted him... In the anteroom sat four copyists to whom he handed sheet after sheet as soon as it was finished." Then at the first rehearsal, Beethoven discovered that his piano was tuned a half step lower than the wind instruments, a crisis that required him to transpose his solo part up a half step for that rehearsal.
Although it is called Concerto No. 2, this is the earliest of Beethoven's five piano concertos. It was written in Bonn, before he moved to Vienna, but, by the time it was published in 1801, his publisher had already issued his next concerto and had called it his Concerto No. 1. This Bb concerto from his earlier years thus became No. 2 and was given a later opus number. By then, Beethoven's style was starting to evolve from the Mozartian character of this concerto toward something quite new. His revisions, even including writing a new third movement, could bring the work only so far toward his current style and his current level of experience. Thus he told his publisher, "I don't consider it one of my best works" and offered it to him for half the price of his first symphony.
But it is a charming and delightful work with a beautiful slow movement that must have shown off Beethoven's noted cantabile style of playing, as well as a light-hearted, comic finale. As a great improvisor, Beethoven would have made up his first-movement cadenza on the spot. The written-out cadenza that has come down to us is one that Beethoven created much later (1809). With it, he briefly inserts his more advanced style of piano writing into this early concerto.
Boston Baroque Performances
Concerto No. 2 in Bb for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 19
March 4 & 5, 2016
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Kristian Bezuidenhout, piano
Concerto in D for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 61
Premiere: December 23, 1806
For solo violin with 1 flute, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani and strings
***
Allegro ma non troppo
Larghetto
Rondo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Beethoven composed his violin concerto during a period in his life which saw the creation of a long list of masterworks, each of them having a highly individual character. In 1806 alone, in addition to his violin concerto, he produced his Fourth Symphony, the three Razumovsky quartets, the "Appassionata" Sonata, and most of his Fourth Piano Concerto.
The commission for the violin concerto came from the virtuoso violinist Franz Clement, who received the finished score from Beethoven only shortly before the premiere, giving him a mere two days in which to learn the difficult solo part. The premiere took place on December 23, 1806, in a program which is also noteworthy for including a solo violin piece by Clement himself, in which he played the violin upside-down.
Initially, the concerto was considered not only extremely difficult for the soloist but also difficult for the listener, and it did not immediately become a standard part of the repertoire. It was ultimately Joseph Joachim, for whom Brahms later wrote his violin concerto, who established Beethoven's work in the repertoire and made it a favorite with audiences. His notable performance of the concerto in London in 1844, when he was only 13 years old, is often considered the beginning of its true popularity.
At the request of the pianist and publisher Muzio Clementi, Beethoven transcribed his violin concerto for piano and orchestra, and both the violin and piano versions were published in 1808. For the original violin version, Beethoven followed tradition in providing no cadenzas but leaving them to the performer to improvise or compose. For the piano version, however, he wrote a lengthy cadenza for the first movement, in which the timpani momentarily joins the piano. Today the most commonly heard cadenza for the violin concerto is the one written for the first movement by Joseph Joachim.
Boston Baroque Performances
Concerto in D for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 61
May 4 & 5, 2001
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Stephanie Chase, violin
April 8, 1988
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Daniel Stepner, violin
Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Op. 21
Premiere: Vienna, April 2, 1800
2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings
***
Adagio molto - Allegro con brio
Andante cantabile con moto
Menuetto: Allego molto e vivace
Finale: Adagio - Allegro molto e vivace
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Beethoven's first two symphonies inhabit the world Haydn and Mozart. Admittedly, they push the boundaries, but it is not until his third symphony, the Eroica, that he bursts into a new world of his own. However, this is in hindsight. For those who first heard these symphonies -- and for us, if we can put aside comparisons with his later works and think of his predecessors -- they were brilliant, passionate and surprising symphonies by a young genius. The First Symphony, influenced as it was by Mozart and Haydn, was in a familiar musical language, so that Beethoven's idiosyncracies and surprises were highlighted all the more. This is felt right from the famous opening chords, which, rather than establishing the key of the piece as one would expect, leave it momentarily ambiguous.
The First Symphony received its premiere on April 2, 1800 at the Burgtheater in Vienna in a concert which Beethoven put on for his own benefit. The program also included works by Haydn and Mozart. Beethoven appears to have worked on ideas for this symphony for several years, but the main task of composing it took place during the six months before the premiere. The dedication is to the Baron van Swieten, the patron and connoisseur who had helped introduce Beethoven to Vienna society and the man who had introduced Haydn and Mozart to the music of Bach and Handel. The premiere was a great success with both public and critics and considerably boosted Beethoven's reputation. In Leipzig, the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung wrote, ". . . this was truly the most interesting concert we have heard for a long time. . . [The symphony] contained much art, many new things and a wealth of ideas."
The autograph of the First Symphony is lost, as are preparatory sketches that Beethoven may have written. We must rely therefore on the earliest printed edition, which, though published during the composer's lifetime, was most likely prepared without his involvement or guidance. Since that early edition has been the basis of a long performing tradition, it is interesting to see recent efforts to go back and take a fresh, critical look at that first edition, at the apparent errors in it, and at the publisher's corrections.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Op. 21
February 27 & March 1, 2003
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 36
Premiere: Vienna, April 5, 1803
2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings
*****
Adagio molto - Allegro con brio
Larghetto
Scherzo: Allegro
Allegro molto
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Shortly after completing his first symphony in 1800, Beethoven began planning his second, but it was not composed for the most part until the summer and early fall of 1802. By then, Beethoven's problems with his hearing had become acute.That spring his doctors had sent him to Heiligenstadt, a quiet village away from the noise of Vienna, and it was there that he completed this symphony in October of 1802. Earlier that month, he had written his famous Heiligenstadt Testament, a letter of profound despair over his increasing deafness, in which he contemplated suicide. But this symphony is not a dark work. Indeed, sections of it have often been characterized as "sunny."Nonetheless, it proved to be somewhat more difficult for audiences than its predecessor.
The premiere took place at the Theater an der Wien, April 5, 1803 in a concert which also included the Symphony No. 1, Beethoven's oratorio Christus am Ölberge, and the Piano Concerto No. 3 with the composer as soloist. Response to the Second Symphony was mixed. Particularly difficult and controversial was the finale with its jagged, eccentric theme, but throughout the work Beethoven is pushing the Classical idiom beyond that of his first symphony. While there were those who felt that this was a great work that would outlive many of the more fashionable works of the day, there were also those who were put off by it. One critic wrote that Beethoven's "anxiety to achieve something novel and surprising was much too evident" and that "the whole thing is too long, and overly-artificial in places." The Finale was called "a repulsive monster, a wounded, tail-lashing serpent, dealing wild and furious blows as it stiffens into its death agony at the end."
The autograph of this symphony, like that of the First Symphony is lost, and there are no other manuscript sources for it. That means that, for this work as well as for its predecessor, we must rely on the earliest printed edition, which, although it was published during the composer's lifetime, was most likely prepared without his involvement or guidance. Since that early edition has been the basis of a long performing tradition, it is interesting to see recent efforts to take a fresh, critical look at that edition, at the apparent errors in it, and at the publisher's corrections.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 2 in D Major, op. 36
March, 24, 25 & 27, 2025
Performed in the concert, “Beethoven & Mozart.”
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
GBH Calderwood Studio, Brighton, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
February 27 & March 1, 2003
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 3 in E-flat Major (Sinfonia Eroica), Op. 55
Premiere: Vienna, April 7, 1805
2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 3 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings
***
Allegro con brio
Marcia funebre: Adagio assai
Scherzo: Allegro vivace
Finale: Allegro molto
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Beethoven's Eroica Symphony is such a familiar classic today that it is sometimes difficult to feel how revolutionary it is. Following the premiere in Vienna in 1805, one reviewer wrote that, although he was an admirer of Beethoven and could see that the work came from an "energetic and talented mind," it nonetheless "very often seems to get lost in its own haphazard disorder." He found it "garish and bizarre in too many places, which disturbs the clarity of layout in the extreme and almost destroys the unity of the whole."
Much of the material in the symphony is indeed unusual and unprecedented. The famous opening theme in the cellos is unsettling as it takes an unexpected turn, and, on one occasion when Beethoven was conducting, the syncopated rhythms in the first movement so confused the orchestra that he was obliged to start the movement over again. At the end of the unusually extensive development section, just before the return of the opening material, the horn plays the theme before the orchestra has resolved to the expected harmony. Like many listeners, Beethoven's student, Ferdinand Ries, found this passage confusing and commented that the horn player had miscounted, at which the furious Beethoven nearly gave him a box on the ears. That the second movement was in the character of a funeral march was also new and shocking to some listeners.
Even the length of this symphony, approximately twice as long as a typical symphony of the time, upset many in the audience: "The inordinate length of this longest and perhaps most difficult of all symphonies wearies even the cognoscenti, and it is unendurable to the mere music lover," complained one reviewer. A listener in the gallery was heard to remark, "I'll give another kreutzer if the thing will only stop." But it was only a matter of several years and a few rehearings before listeners and critics adjusted their expectations for this radically new symphony and acknowledged it as the masterpiece that it is.
According to the popular story, the symphony originally bore the title "Bonaparte" as an homage to the ruler whom Beethoven considered a great democrat. But Ries tells us that, when he brought the news that Napoleon was to make himself emperor, Beethoven flew into a rage and tore Napoleon's name from the title page, replacing it with the title Sinfonia eroica, composta per festaggiare il sovvenire d'un grand' uomo' ("Heroic symphony, composed to celebrate the memory of a great man"). However, Beethoven's feelings may have remained more ambivalent than the story suggests, and the new title may have been added later. When he offered the completed work to his publisher, he wrote that the title was really "Bonaparte." Several years later, in 1809, a member of Napoleon's Council of State visited Beethoven and came away with the impression that the composer was very much taken with Napoleon, admiring not only his greatness but also his rise from obscurity, despite the fact that the composer's own country was then at war with Napoleon.
The memorable main theme of the last movement, the subject of variations, is borrowed from the finale to his ballet The Creatures of Prometheus. It was a tune that he obviously liked and that inspired his imagination, for he used it also in a set of contredanses and returned to it as the subject of a major set of variations for piano. However, one wonders whether using the "Prometheus" tune once more in the finale of the Eroica may have been meant to associate Napoleon, the original hero of the symphony, with the titan Prometheus, the creator of mankind.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 3 in Eb, Op. 55
May 5 & 6, 2006
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
May 4 & 5, 2001
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 4 in B-b Major, Op. 60
Public premiere: Vienna, April 1808
1 flute, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings
***
Adagio/Allegro vivace
Adagio
Allegro molto e vivace
Allegro ma non troppo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
After writing his groundbreaking Third Symphony, the Eroica, Beethoven did not complete a new symphony for almost three years. By that time, he had already begun sketching ideas for another revolutionary work, his famous Fifth Symphony, but he temporarily set that aside for a commission. In the summer of 1806, he met Count Franz von Oppersdorff, who had heard Beethoven's pre-Eroica second symphony and offered him 350 florins to write a similar work in that earlier style. The result was his Symphony No. 4, which was first played at a private concert in March of 1807 and then given its public premiere in Vienna at the Burgtheater in April of 1808.
It is a great work that had the misfortune to be born between two revolutionary giants, the Third Symphony (Eroica) and the Fifth Symphony, which was premiered later in that same year of 1808 -- or, as Schumann later put it, it is "a slender Greek maiden between two huge Nordic giants." As a result, the Fourth Symphony has never been played as frequently as Beethoven's other symphonies, despite the fact that is a brilliant work much admired by Mendelssohn, Schumann and Berlioz, among others. This is lighthearted, youthful music, full of invention and unexpected turns. Beethoven takes us into distant keys with astonishing ease, and, in the third movement Scherzo, he extends the usual three-part A-B-A form to the larger five-part form that he would use in later works. The virtuosic finale ends with a Beethovenian joke, slowing down the theme, pausing several times, and then making a mad dash to the end.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 4 in Bb, Op. 60
May 6 & 7, 2005
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67
Premiere: Vienna, December 22, 1808
Piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon,
2 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, and strings
***
Allegro con brio
Andante con moto
Allegro
Allegro
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
At the end of the year 1808, Beethoven produced an extraordinary -- and exhausting -- concert of his own music. The program included the premieres of both his Fifth and Sixth Symphonies and of his Fourth Piano Concerto with Beethoven himself as soloist, as well as movements from his Mass in C, the dramatic scene and aria Ah! perfido, and Beethoven's improvisations on the piano. Originally, the Fifth Symphony was to end the evening, but the composer feared that the audience might be too tired to listen to such a demanding piece at the end of a long concert. So he placed it earlier on the program and then, making the concert even longer, substituted a grand finale of a new, hastily written Choral Fantasy (op. 80) for which he improvised the opening piano solo. The entire event took a full four hours in a bitterly cold hall.
Beethoven's friend Reichardt wrote that "one can easily have too much of a good thing -- and still more of a loud one. Nevertheless, I could no more leave the box before the end than could the exceedingly good-natured and delicate Prince [Lobkowitz]," since Beethoven was conducting the orchestra near them. To make matters worse, the orchestra and chorus did not like or support the cantankerous composer, and there had been so little rehearsal time that some of the pieces had not gotten a single full rehearsal. "Thus," writes Reichardt, "many a failure in the performance vexed our patience in the highest degree." Needless to say, the Fifth Symphony, survived its first outing to become one of the most beloved works in the entire orchestral repertoire.
This radical symphony evolved over a surprisingly long time. Beethoven began sketches for it -- initially without the famous opening bars -- in 1804, immediately after completing his revolutionary Third Symphony (Eroica); but work on it was interrupted by numerous other projects. His opera Fidelio, the Razumovky quartets, the Violin Concerto, the Appassionata sonata for piano, the Fourth Piano Concerto and the Fourth Symphony all come from this amazingly fertile time. The commission for the Fourth Symphony required him to revisit the simpler style of his earlier works. But even after he was able to return to his avante-garde Fifth, Beethoven labored simultaneously on his Sixth Symphony (Pastoral), a work in a much gentler spirit.
Almost from the beginning, the Fifth Symphony has taken on extra-musical meaning for many people, even though the composer himself insisted that he was not writing program music. Beethoven's friend and biographer Schindler started a popular legend, which has survived to the present day, when he claimed rather questionably that the opening motive was meant to represent "fate knocking at the door." From the Napoleonic Wars through World War II, this symphony has been used in patriotic causes, and over time it has become so ubiquitous in concert halls and in popular culture that it can be difficult for an audience to listen to it with fresh ears. The challenge, a richly rewarding one for both performers and listeners today, is to play and listen to this astonishing work in a way that can feel the sense of excitement and danger that it demands.
The symphony opens with what is certainly the most recognizable motive in all of classical music -- and also one of the most powerful. It is a highly compressed four-note motive that appears in almost every measure of the first movement. But many other details have also drawn comment from composers and critics through the centuries: the unusual and beautiful variations in the slow movement, the unprecedented intensity of the third movement Scherzo, the surprisingly static but tense transition to the Finale, and the grandiose, triumphant character of the Finale itself. With that Finale, the key of C minor, a dark and impassioned key for Beethoven, gives way to a bright, triumphal C major, in which the sound of the orchestra is suddenly filled out by the addition of a contrabassoon at the bottom of the range, a piccolo at the top, and trombones in the middle range. It is perhaps the most controversial movement of the symphony, a "meaningless babel" to Beethoven's contemporary Louis Spohr and a brilliant appearance of the sun to others. It ends with an almost obsessively long sequence of repeated C major chords, a conclusion which writer Charles Rosen suggests is necessary "to ground the extreme tension of [this] immense work."
Boston Baroque Performances
Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67
March 4 & 5, 2016
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
May 4 & 5, 2007
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 6 in F Major ("Pastorale"), Op. 68
Premiere: Vienna, December 22, 1808
Piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, 2 trombones, timpani, strings
***
Allegro ma non troppo ("Happy feelings awakened upon arriving in the countryside")
Andante con moto ("Scene at the brook")
Allegro ("Merry gathering of country folk")
Allegro ("Thunderstorm")
Allegretto ("Shepherd's song: Grateful feelings and thanks to the divinity following the storm")
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The musical sketches in Beethoven's notebooks show him working simultaneously on his fifth and sixth symphonies, two works that are worlds apart in spirit. He completed both masterpieces around the same time in 1808, and they were premiered together at the end of that year in a marathon concert, along with the Choral Fantasy, the Piano Concerto No. 4, several movements of his Mass in C, and his dramatic scene and aria, Ah! perfido. Not surprisingly given the overwhelming amount of music, one report tells us that the concert was not fully rehearsed!
In contrast to the tempestuous and triumphal character of the Fifth Symphony, the Sixth is a more leisurely, pastoral work with a literary program depicting scenes in nature, a program that we can clearly hear and that we can read in the titles of the movements. In one place, at the end of the second movement, the score even names the birds at the brook, as the flute, oboe and clarinet imitate the calls of the nightingale, quail and cuckoo. Nonetheless, Beethoven insisted that the music is meant not so much to actually "paint" scenes of nature as to show the feelings aroused in us by experiencing nature. As one might expect of a "Pastoral" Symphony, the work is more tranquil and serene than much of Beethoven's music. To that end, it uses simple folk-like themes with occasional hints of bagpipe drones to create a bucolic atmosphere. Only in the famous thunderstorm of the fourth movement, where Beethoven adds piccolo, trombones, trumpets and timpani, does the music become wilder. This is not human passion, though, but the fury of nature, which then subsides and returns us to the pastoral music of shepherds.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 6 in F Major, Op. 68
May 6 & 7, 2005
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92
Premiere: Vienna, December 8, 1813
2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings
***
Poco sostenuto / Vivace
Allegretto
Presto
Allegro con brio
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
At the end of the year 1813, Johann Nepomuk Maelzel, Beethoven's friend and the inventor of the metronome, organized a concert for the benefit of Austrian and Bavarian soldiers wounded in a battle against Napoleon. The program opened with the premiere of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, which had been completed the previous year. There followed marches by Dussek and Pleyel, and the program concluded with the featured work, a bombastic new "Battle Symphony" by Beethoven, which he called Wellington's Victory. The latter, which Beethoven is said to have called "a stupid thing," with its battery of percussion and battle noises, was the spectacular success of the evening; but his Symphony No. 7 was also enthusiastically received, and its second movement so impressed his audience that it had to be played twice.
The orchestra on that occasion was noteworthy, Maelzel having persuaded many of the leading musicians of the day to participate. The well-known violinist and composer Louis Spohr played in the violin section, and the virtuoso Dragonetti played double bass. Those who did not play orchestral instruments, such as Salieri, Hummel, Moscheles and Meyerbeer, assisted with bass drums, cymbals and cannon for the Battle Symphony. (Meyerbeer was always behind the beat, according to Beethoven.) The composer himself, though already quite deaf, conducted the entire program. Spohr gives the following account of his conducting:
Although I had heard much about his conducting, it still greatly surprised me. Beethoven had the habit of conveying expression to his orchestra by all sorts of peculiar motions of the body. Whenever there was a sforzando, he tore his arms, which he had previously crossed on his breast, violently asunder. At a piano, he would crouch down, bending lower as the music became softer. Then at a crescendo, he would gradually raise himself until, at the forte, he sprang to his full height. Sometimes, to increase the forte, he would shout aloud to the orchestra, without being aware of it.
Spohr's poignant account also relates how Beethoven, unable to hear the orchestra during rehearsals, would get many measures ahead of them, recovering his place only when he could visually see them beginning a forte passage. It was the last public concert he would conduct.
With the premiere of his Seventh Symphony, Beethoven became truly popular among the general public and was recognized, even among his critics, as the world's greatest living composer. Wagner's famous description of this symphony as the "apotheosis of the dance," points to its intense rhythmic energy and extraordinary sense of invention. There are harmonic progressions that take us to unexpected, distant places, and there is an astonishingly powerful drive in passages such as the obsessive, descending chromatic bass line in the last movement that pulls the music inexorably down to the dominant and sets up a return of the opening material. Passages such as this have had their critics. Carl Maria von Weber thought they showed that Beethoven "was ready for the madhouse." But they also give this symphony a propulsive energy that has made it one of Beethoven's most popular works.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92
October 26 & 28, 2018
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 15 & 16, 2010
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
February 4 & 6, 2000
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 16, 1987
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 8 in F Major, Op. 93
Premiere: Vienna, February 27, 1814
2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings
***
Allegro vivace e con brio
Allegretto scherzando
Tempo di Menuetto
Allegro vivace
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
When Beethoven's Eighth Symphony was first performed on February 27, 1814, it had the misfortune to be on the same program as the composer's own Seventh Symphony and his patriotic pot-boiler, Wellington's Victory. Both these works had received their triumphant premieres only a few months earlier and had become associated in the public mind with the allied victory over Napoleon. The audience no doubt expected another work in the same vein, but the new Symphony No. 8 proved to be gentler and more conservative. According to one critic of the time, "the applause which it received was not accompanied by that enthusiasm which distinguishes a work that gives universal delight; in short -- as the Italians say -- it did not create a furore." The same critic added that the new symphony would be assured of success, once it was played by itself and not heard immediately after the Seventh.
Beethoven himself was angry about the polite reception for his new symphony and, according to his student Czerny, claimed that the Eighth was "much better" than the Seventh. To this day, the Eighth Symphony has been somewhat overshadowed by its predecessor for the very reason that it is more conservative, even though it too has joyous character. Nonetheless, it holds a place of esteem and affection for audiences, along with the rest Beethoven's symphonies. By contrast, Wellington's Victory, a noisy piece with far less substance, faded from the standard repertoire once the political passions of the times subsided.
Beethoven began sketching his Eighth Symphony in April of 1812, immediately after completing the Seventh. The new symphony was finished in October of that same year and, with this beautiful but relatively conservative work, Beethoven's symphony writing came temporarily to an end. His production of new works declined considerably for a few years as a late style began to evolve. This work represents the end of an enormously productive dozen years, in which, among other masterworks, he wrote all of his symphonies but one. It would be a decade before he returned to the form to compose his ninth and final symphony, an expansive late work which is, in a sense, unique among his symphonies.
The sizes of the orchestras that performed Beethoven's music during his lifetime varied enormously. Perhaps because of limited finances, the orchestra which played the premiere of the Seventh Symphony was barely sufficient for such a piece, with only four violins in each section. A few months later, the same symphony, as well as the Eighth, took place in a very large hall with an enormous orchestra filled out by both professionals and amateurs. On that occasion, there were 18 violins in each section, but that too was evidently not ideal: Beethoven complained that he had never written "noise-music" for such a large orchestra and that it was too big to realize the sudden twists and turns of character in his music. Clearly, it is risky to assume that premiere performances represent a composer's true intentions (as many composers today can attest!). More often, we discover a range of what is "acceptable" for a piece and adapt it to the circumstances of a particular performance, including, among other things, the size of the hall.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 8 in F, op. 93
May 4 & 5, 2007
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125
Premiere: Vienna, May 7, 1824
Vocal soloists: Soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Chorus: S-A-T-B
Orchestra: Piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, percussion, strings
***
Allegro ma non troppo e un poco maestoso
Molto vivace
Adagio molto e cantabile
Finale: An die Freude (Ode to Joy)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
"An illustrious, extremely large audience listened with rapt attention and did not stint with enthusiastic, thundering applause. Beethoven himself conducted, that is, he stood in front of a conductor's stand and threw himself back and forth like a madman. At one moment he stretched to his full height, at the next he crouched down to the floor, he flailed about with his hands and feet. --The actual direction was in [the backup conductor, Michael Umlauf's] hands; we musicians followed his baton only. --Beethoven was so excited that he saw nothing that was going on about him, he paid no heed whatever to the bursts of applause, which his deafness prevented him from hearing in any case."
Thus did the violinist Joseph Böhm report on one of the most extraordinary premieres in music history. The concert in Vienna on May 7, 1824 included, along with the premiere of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, three movements of his Missa Solemnis and his overture to The Consecration of the House. It was an extremely taxing program, made even more so by the difficulty and newness of the music, and there had been only two full rehearsals. Some of the high notes in the voice parts were omitted, because the singers could not sing them and could not convince Beethoven to rewrite the passages. One of Beethoven's friends reported that "the whole symphony, especially the last movement, caused great difficulty for the orchestra, which did not understand it at first. . . The double-bass players had not the faintest idea what they were supposed to do with the recitatives. One heard nothing but a gruff rumbling in the basses. . ."
Nonetheless, the orchestra included many fine musicians, and the much anticipated new symphony made a tremendous impression. According to one of the singers in the chorus, there were moments when the audience would spontaneously burst into applause in the middle of a movement, the most striking being at the solo entrance of the timpani in the Scherzo, which, she tells us, had the effect on the audience of a bolt of lightning.
Although the unprecedented last movement, which introduces voices into the symphony, is the most popular movement today, it was less enthusiastically received and somewhat confusing at first. Beethoven had been interested in setting Friedrich Schiller's An die Freude (Ode to Joy) for more than thirty years, but his original thought, dating back to the early 1790's before he moved to Vienna, was to set it as an independent song. Years later, in 1812, while working on his Eighth Symphony, he sketched some ideas for a theme that would set Schiller's words and wrote comments for himself next to the sketch: "Make something using fragments of Schiller's Joy" and "Work out the overture" -- but there was still not yet any thought of inserting it into a symphony. More than a decade later, as he was working on the first two movements of his Ninth Symphony, Beethoven still thought of the Ode to Joy as belonging to a different work. It was only in the year before he completed the symphony that he decided to use the vocal setting of Schiller's ode as its finale.
Surprisingly, Beethoven seems to have had some doubts about his decision to introduce a vocal finale into the symphony. His student Carl Czerny reported that, well after the premiere, the composer told some of his close friends that he felt he had made a mistake in doing so and that he wanted to eliminate the finale and substitute a purely instrumental movement in its place. He claimed already to have musical ideas for a new movement, but for unknown reasons, he never wrote it or replaced the original version.
The Music
Beethoven's ninth and last symphony stands apart from his other symphonies in many ways. It was written well after the period of his other symphonies, a dozen years after the eighth. Every movement of this work is more complex in structure and orchestration and grander in scale than what had normally been heard in symphonies up to that time. For much of the nineteenth century, it was considered the ne plus ultra of symphonic writing, and any composer contemplating writing a symphony -- particularly a ninth symphony -- felt himself to be in Beethoven's shadow.
From the very opening notes of the first movement, it is unprecedented: the piece hardly has a real beginning but puts us almost imperceptibly into a pianissimo stream of sound, with the orchestra sustaining an atmospheric, hollow harmony; from there, the music quickly grows into something more violent and frightening. The second movement Scherzo, famous for its solo timpani outbursts, is far more extended in form -- and more taxing on players -- than any scherzo written up to that point. In the Adagio third movement, the violins develop elaborate ornamentation of the theme each time it returns. This movement too makes unprecedented demands on the instruments of Beethoven's time: the fourth horn's solo passage in Cb major, for instance, is something that no one else would have dared ask of a valveless horn.
After Beethoven decided that his finale would be a choral setting of Schiller's ode, something never attempted in a symphony, his conversation books and sketches show him struggling with how to connect it to the earlier purely instrumental movements of the work. His associate Schindler claimed to have observed the composer's crisis in person:
When he reached the development of the fourth movement there began a struggle such as is seldom seen. The object was to find a proper manner of introducing Schiller's Ode. One day entering the room he exclaimed, "I have it! I have it!" With that he showed me the sketchbook…
Beethoven's solution, as today's listeners know, was to create a dramatic "narrative" at the beginning of the finale. Following a crashing dissonance and chaotic opening, he introduces one by one fragments of the three previous movements. Each fragment of earlier music is interrupted and essentially rejected by the cellos and basses playing in the style of a recitative. Their recitatives suggest words that we do not yet know. But then comes music that is not rejected, a theme that is allowed to expand into variations, the famous "Ode to Joy" theme played by the orchestra alone. When the voice of the baritone soloist is finally heard, he sings Beethoven's own text imploring everyone to cease fighting and join together in song. The piece then turns to Schiller's ode.
The "Ode to Joy" Theme
The "Joy" theme, one of the most famous melodies in all of music, is different in character from anything else in this symphony. It is, in a sense, more of an anthem than a normal symphonic theme. Beethoven was well aware of the relatively new interest in national anthems. He admired Britain's God Save the King, a tune on which he wrote variations, and he commented in his journal, "I must give the English some notion of the blessing they have in their God Save the King." He was also well aware of the beautiful national anthem that Haydn had been comissioned to write for the Austrian kaiser. Beethoven himself had made several forays into composing political music in his career, providing music for the Congress of Vienna following the fall of Napoleon. It was around the time of that international gathering that he made early sketches for this theme. Perhaps one of the qualities that has made it so popular is that it has the feeling of a "supra-national anthem" with words that call for the brotherhood of all mankind. It is not surprising, therefore, that it is today the anthem of the European Union.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125
October 13, 2023
Sanders Theatre, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 14, 2023
GBH’s Calderwood Studio, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 15, 2023
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Heidi Stober, soprano
Daniela Mack, mezzo-soprano
William Burden, tenor
Solomon Howard, bass
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125
November 10, 2013
Strand Theatre, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 8 & 9, 2013
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
The Mystery Sonatas
The Joyful Mysteries
Sonata I in D minor: The Annunciation
Praeludium - Aria and 2 variations - Finale
Sonata II in A Major: The Visitation
[Sonata] / Presto - Allamanda - Presto
Sonata III in B minor: The Nativity
[Sonata] /Presto - Courente and double - Adagio
Sonata IV in D minor: The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple
Ciacona with 12 variations
Sonata V in A Major: The Finding of Jesus in the Temple
Praeludium - Allamanda - Gigue - Sarabande and double
The Sorrowful Mysteries
Sonata VI in C minor: The Agony in the Garden
Lamento
Sonata VII in F Major: The Scourging of Jesus
Allamanda and variation - Sarabanda and 3 variations
Sonata VIII in Bb Major: The Crowning of Jesus with Thorns
Sonata: Adagio/Presto - Gigue and 2 doubles
Sonata IX in A minor: The Carrying of the Cross
Sonata - Corrente and 2 doubles - Finale
Sonata X in G minor: The Crucifixion
Praeludium - Aria and 5 variations
The Glorious Mysteries
Sonata XI in G Major: The Resurrection
Sonata - Hymn: Surrexit Christus hodie and variations
Sonata XII in C Major: The Ascension
Intrada - Aria tubicinum (trumpet) - Allemanda - Courante and double
Sonata XIII in D minor: The Descent of the Holy Ghost
Sonata - Gavotte - Gigue - Sarabanda
Sonata XIV in D Major: The Assumption of the Virgin
[Sonata] - Arias 1 and 2 - Gigue
Sonata XV in C Major: The Coronation of the Virgin Mary
Sonata - Aria with 3 doubles - Canzona - Sarabanda and double
Passacaglia in G minor for violin alone
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Heinrich Biber's Mystery (or Rosary) Sonatas rank, along with Bach's unaccompanied violin music, among the most challenging works in the Baroque violin repertoire, and his experimentation with the instrument is unique, even to this day. Heard as a collection, they are astonishingly powerful and deeply emotional.
One of the greatest violinists of the seventeenth century, Biber wrote not only avant-garde music for his own instrument but also many large and small-scale choral works, which only recently have begun to receive the attention they deserve. His choral output includes masses, requiems, motets and other works, some of them among the grandest church music of his time. (One polychoral mass attributed to him is scored for 53 voice parts!)
Heinrich Biber was born in Bohemia in 1644 and worked earlier in his career at the courts of Graz and Kroměříž (now in the Czech Republic), but from the 1670's until the end of his life, he was employed at the archbishop's court in Salzburg. There he rose to the rank of Kapellmeister and was eventually granted a title of nobility by the emperor.
The Mystery Sonatas survive in only a single manuscript copy dating from the 1670's. It is a beautifully copied volume comprising fifteen sonatas plus a concluding passacaglia for unaccompanied violin. Each of the fifteen sonatas depicts one of the mysteries of the rosary and is paired in the manuscript with an anonymous engraving illustrating the appropriate episode in the life of Jesus or Mary. The concluding Passacaglia, generally considered the greatest unaccompanied violin piece before Bach, shows an engraving of a guardian angel leading a child.
As with the spoken prayers of the rosary, the fifteen sonatas are grouped into three sets of five -- five joyful mysteries, five sorrowful mysteries, and five glorious mysteries. The occasion for which these pieces were written is itself something of a mystery, although they may have been played during the month of October, which was dedicated to the celebration of the rosary. Devotion to the rosary was particularly widespread in Europe at this time, and Salzburg had a Confraternity of the Rosary, of which Biber's employer, the Archbishop Maximilian Gandolph, was a member. Addressing the archbishop, Biber dedicated his collection "to the fifteen sacred mysteries, which you promote so fervently."
The sonatas do not tell the story of the lives of Jesus and Mary in any obvious way. Although there is occasional tone painting depicting dramatic moments, such as the fluttering of the angels' wings, the hammering of the nails, or the earthquake, some listeners have wondered and some writers have speculated about exactly how the sonatas relate to their mysteries. Why, for example, is there sometimes a dance or virtuosic passage in the middle of a sorrowful part of the story? Were some of these sonatas adapted from pieces written earlier for other occasions? Rather than explicit storytelling, the music seems to provide us with moments of reflection, leaving each listener to find his or her own meaning.
Interestingly, the anguished "Crucifixion" Sonata (No. 10) was reworked several years later into a secular version with titles related to a current event, the siege of Vienna, rather than the crucifixion.
Biber's technical experiments
It is perhaps not surprising that a virtuoso player like Biber would write technically challenging music. However, these sonatas go far beyond normal virtuosic writing. Biber instructs the violinist to tune the strings differently from the way they are conventionally tuned, so that no two sonatas have the strings tuned to the same set of notes.
The effect of this "untuning" or scordatura is not only that the violinist can play chords that are normally impossible on the violin but, more importantly, that the instrument resonates differently for each sonata. Tuning strings higher creates greater tension on the instrument, and tuning some of them lower makes it less bright. When the strings are tuned to the notes of a particular key, that key sounds more resonant, since the open strings vibrate sympathetically with the notes in that key.
For the player, having a different tuning for each sonata can be disorienting at first, not only because the fingers need to press down in slightly different places on the strings, but also because many of the notes that she is reading and fingering are not the ones that are actually sounding. For example, notes that are written as large leaps may actually sound close together in some sonatas; and, as shown below, some tunings result in bizarre key signatures which include both sharps and flats. This means that the usual conventions for reading music shift for each sonata.
The most extreme altering of the strings occurs in Sonata XI (The Resurrection).In that one sonata, the middle two strings are crossed over each other both in the peg box and behind the bridge, so that one can literally see a cross on the violin. That places the thinner "A" string below the heavier "D" string, putting the strings out of order not only in their pitches but also in their feel. Violinists who spend years learning the feel of heavier strings in the lower range and gradually thinner ones as they go higher, have to adjust their instincts as they balance chords with the strings out of order.
Key signatures and tunings of the open strings
Sonata I
D minor
Normal violin tuning.
Sonata II
A Major
Lower strings raised a whole step. Creates open 5ths of A major.
Sonata III
B minor
Tuned in B minor chord. More tension on bottom 3 strings, which are raised a major 3rd. Top string lowered for less tension.
Sonata IV
D minor
Bottom string up a step; top string down a step. Creates open 5ths of D.
Sonata V
A Major
Open strings form A major chord. Top string tuned quite low.
Sonata VI
C minor
Most dissonant tuning of these sonatas. Creates a new, dark sound for beginning of the "sorrowful mysteries." Bottom strings raised; top strings lowered. All four tuned to notes in C minor scale.
Sonata VII
F Major
F major chord. Extreme tension on raised bottom strings. Top string lower (i. e. more slack) than in other sonatas.
Sonata VIII
Bb Major
Forms Bb chord. Greater tension on bottom string than in any other sonata: raised a 5th, so that violin cannot play below D. Top string lowered.
Sonata IX
A minor
Tuned to A minor chord. Bottom string raised a 4th, creating considerable tension in bass. Top two strings tuned normally.
Sonata X
G minor
Close to normal violin tuning. Only top string is lowered a step to darken the sound and put the open strings within the key of G minor.
Sonata XI
G Major
Middle two strings are crossed in peg box and behind bridge to represent a cross. D string sounds higher, A string lower. (See notes above.)
Sonata XII
C Major
Tuned in C major chord. Bottom string tuned very high, under tension. Top string quite low, less tension in sound.
Sonata XIII
D minor
Open strings form a bright A major chord.
Sonata XIV
D Major
All notes in D major scale. Bottom two strings raised a step, top string lowered a step.
Sonata XV
C Major
All notes are in C major scale. Top three strings lowered a step, creating less tension and somewhat richer sound.
Passacaglia
G minor
Return to normal violin tuning, not heard since the first sonata of the set.
Boston Baroque Performances
The Mystery Sonatas
June 14, 2019
Connecticut Early Music Festival, New London, CT
Soloist:
Christina Day Martinson, violins
Continuo:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Michael Unterman, cello
Michael Leopold, continuo
May 5, 2018
Rice University, Houston, TX
Soloist:
Christina Day Martinson, violins
Continuo:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Michael Unterman, cello
Michael Leopold, continuo
March 10, 2017
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Soloist:
Christina Day Martinson, violins
Continuo:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Michael Unterman, cello
Michael Leopold, continuo
March 7, 2017
Bechtler Museum of Modern Art, Charlotte, NC
Soloist:
Christina Day Martinson, violins
Continuo:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Michael Unterman, cello
Michael Leopold, continuo
March 22, 2013
First Church in Cambridge, Cambridge, MA
Soloist:
Christina Day Martinson, violins
Continuo:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Sarah Freiberg, cello
Victor Coelho, theorbo
February 12, 2012
First Church in Cambridge, Cambridge, MA
Soloist:
Christina Day Martinson, violins
Continuo:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Sarah Freiberg, cello
Victor Coelho, theorbo
March 4 & 5, 2011
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Soloist:
Christina Day Martinson, violins
Continuo:
Martin Pearlman, harpsichord and organ
Sarah Freiberg, cello
Victor Coelho, theorbo
Symphonies, op. 2
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
A leading English composer of the late Baroque, William Boyce (1711-1779) composed a considerable body of music for both the theater and the church. Following numerous successes with his masques and operas, he was invited by David Garrick to compose music for his Drury Lane theater, and for ten years, beginning in 1749, Boyce composed operas and theater music for Garrick. Although Boyce's instrumental music represents a relatively small portion of his total output, some of it was enormously successful. The eighteenth-century historian Charles Burney wrote that Boyce's trio sonatas were "longer and more generally purchased, performed and admired than any productions of the kind in this kingdom, except those of Corelli. They were not only in constant use, as Chamber Music, in private concerts, for which they were originally designed, but in our theatres as act-tunes, and public gardens as favourite pieces, during many years."
All eight of Boyce's symphonies were published together in 1760 as his opus 2. They are short works and generally simple in style and texture, but they have a freshness and vitality that make them wonderfully appealing. Not long before the publication of these pieces, Boyce was appointed to two posts that became his focus for the remainder of his career: Master of the King's Musick in 1755 and organist of the Royal Chapel in 1758. During this last period of his life, during which he devoted himself mainly to occasional and religious music, his work was less often heard in public and was less in fashion. Having gone deaf, he no longer kept up with the latest musical styles, and his music was superceded by the more modern works of Johann Christian Bach and others. During this time, Boyce developed his antiquarian interests, editing and publishing large volumes of English church music from the previous two centuries, a collection which did much to preserve that repertoire for future generations.
Boston Baroque Performances
Symphony in B-flat, Op. 2, No. 1
February 1, 1987
Northwest Bach Festival, Spokane, WA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
September 26, 1986
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Dixit Dominus
Cantata for tenor (or soprano) with violins 1 & 2, violas 1 & 2,
"spinetto o violono" (or cello), continuo (organ, violone)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Dieterich Buxtehude was best known in his day and in ours as a great organist whose music is still standard repertoire for that instrument. Yet the majority of his output was for voice. More than a hundred cantatas, motets, and other vocal works have come down to us, although sadly his large-scale oratorios have been lost.
Buxtehude considered Denmark to be his birthplace -- a point debated by some historians -- but he spent most of his professional life in the north German free city of Lübeck, where he was organist of St. Mary's Church (Marienkirche). There his work as a keyboard player and as director of the famous Abendmusik concert series made him a major influence on the German music of his day, as well as that of the next generation.
In 1703, the young Handel traveled from Hamburg with his colleague Mattheson to see and hear Buxtehude. They were both considered as possible successors to the aging organist, but there was a catch. Following tradition, Buxtehude's successor would be expected to marry his daughter. "It turned out," wrote Mattheson, "that there was some marriage condition proposed in connection with the appointment, for which we neither of us felt the smallest inclination, so we said goodbye to the place after having enjoyed ourselves immensely. . ."
Two years later, in 1705, the young J. S. Bach walked over 250 miles to Lübeck to hear Buxtehude play the organ and to attend his Abendmusik concerts, where he doubtless would have heard Buxtehude's oratorios and other choral works. He got in considerable trouble for overstaying his leave of absence, but he came away from Lübeck tremendously influenced by what he had heard.
Buxtehude's setting is a brief, attractive work for tenor, although it is sometimes sung an octave higher by a soprano. The soloist is accompanied by strings and continuo.
Boston Baroque Performances
Dixit Dominus
March 2, 2018
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Teresa Wakim, soprano
Heut triumphieret Gottes Sohn
Cantata for Easter
Chorus: Sop. 1, sop. 2, alto, tenor, bass
Soloists: Sop. 1, sop. 2, alto, tenor, bass
Orchestra: 2 trumpets, timpani (ad libitum), violins 1 & 2,
violas 1 & 2, cello, bass, continuo (organ, others ad libitum)
***
Sinfonia / Fanfare
Chorus: Heut triumphieret Gottes Sohn
Verse 1: Nun liegt Höll und Tod
Chorus: Victoria
Verse 2: Teufel höre
Chorus: Victoria
Verse 3: Also muss es allen Feinden
Chorus: Victoria
Verse 4: Jesu, Jesu, hochbesungen
Chorus: Victoria
Verse 5: Steur' auch, steur' den grossen Drachen
Chorus: Victoria
Chorus: Alleluja
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The brilliant Easter cantata Heut triumphieret Gottes Sohn is one of more than a hundred vocal works of Buxtehude that have come down to us, including cantatas, motets, and other works. His output also included large-scale oratorios which have sadly been lost. Nonetheless, he was best known in his day -- and in ours -- as a great organist, and his music is still standard repertoire for that instrument.
Dieterich Buxtehude considered his birthplace to be Denmark (a point debated by some historians) but he spent most of his professional life in the north German free city of Lübeck, where he was organist of St. Mary's Church. There his work as a keyboard player and as director of the famous Abendmusik concert series made him a major influence on the German music of his day, as well as that of the next generation.
In 1703, the young Handel came from Hamburg with his colleague Mattheson to see and hear Buxtehude. They were both considered possible successors to the aging organist, but there was a catch to the offer. Following tradition, Buxtehude had married the daughter of his predecessor, and he expected his successor to marry his own eldest daughter. According to Mattheson, "It turned out that there was some marriage condition proposed in connection with the appointment, for which we neither of us felt the smallest inclination, so we said goodbye to the place after having enjoyed ourselves immensely. . ."
Two years later, in 1705, Bach walked 250 miles to Lübeck to hear Buxtehude play the organ and to attend his Abendmusik concerts, where he doubtless would have heard Buxtehude's oratorios and other choral works. He got in considerable trouble for overstaying his leave, but it was not without good cause, for Buxtehude's influence on the young Bach was enormous.
Heut triumphieret Gottes Sohn, being a celebratory Easter piece, includes the bright sound of two trumpets, as well as timpani (ad libitum by tradition, since no timpani music is written into the score), along with two violins, two violas and continuo instruments. The chorus is in five voice parts, and there are several choral soloists. Following an instrumental introduction, the choir begins with a setting of a pre-existing Easter hymn. There then follow tuneful verses for soloists alternating with choral sections that proclaim "victoria." The work closes with a grand Alleluja for the full ensemble.
Boston Baroque Performances
Heut triumphieret Gottes Sohn
March 4 & 5, 2011
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Jephte
Oratorio in Latin
Jephte (tenor)
Jephte's daughter (soprano)
Historicus (alto)
Four unnamed soloists (two sopranos, alto, bass)
Chorus (SSSATB)
Continuo (organ)
String instruments ad libitum
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
From the very beginning, Carissimi's oratorio Jephte has been recognized as one of the finest works of its time and one of the greatest oratorios in the repertoire. Carissimi's music, and Jephte in particular, were widely known in his day, with manuscripts circulating in various European countries. When his contemporary, the Jesuit scholar Athanasius Kircher, published his encyclopedic work on music, he reproduced the final chorus of Jephte as an illustration of the power of music to move the soul and portray human emotions, expressing regret at not having the space to print the entire oratorio. Nearly a hundred years later, Handel paid homage by quoting the final chorus of Jephte in his own oratorio Samson.
Among the many foreign and Italian students who came to study with Carissimi was the French composer Marc-Antoine Charpentier, whose own works show the clear influence of teacher. Charpentier's personal copy of Jephte is in fact the best source for the work today, since Carissimi's autograph has been lost.
Giacomo Carissimi was described by a contemporary as "tall and thin and prone to melancholy" and was said to be "very gracious in his relations with friends and others." Born in 1605, he was appointed to the prestigious post of maestro di cappella at the Jesuit Collegio Germanico in Rome at the age of 24, and he held that post until his death in 1674. Among the attractive job offers which he declined during his tenure in Rome was one to become Monteverdi's successor at St. Mark's in Venice. Although he is widely considered the first great oratorio composer, he is perhaps equally famous for his large output of cantatas.
The story of Jephte is based on the biblical story in Judges. Jephthah promises the Lord that, if he defeats the enemy Ammonites in battle, he will sacrifice the first living creature that he sees when he returns home. But on his victorious return, he first sees not the animals of his flocks but his daughter, his only child, who has run out on the road to meet him. The oratorio focuses principally on this human drama that follows the battle and on the emotional shift from the daughter's initial victory dance to the final lament over her fate.
Musically, the story is told in solo recitatives and ariosos that contrast with six-voice choruses. Most famous in this work and, in many ways, most characteristic of Carissimi are the poignant dissonances in the final chorus of lamentation. However, some of the solo sections, including the final lament of the daughter, are equally expressive.
The primary sources for Jephte are scored only for voices and continuo, although some performances add a small number of instruments to double the choral parts in places. Such doubling is not unusual for the period and is, in fact, found in a few of the early manuscript copies of Jephte, as well as in a number of other works of the time. The manuscripts lack an instrumental introduction, although it would not have been uncommon to have one. In its performances, Boston Baroque used the brief introduction from Carissimi's oratorio Baltazar.
Boston Baroque Performances
Jephte
March 8 & 9, 2013
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Owen McIntosh, tenor
Teresa Wakim, soprano
Kamala Soparkar, mezzo-soprano
February 28 & March 2, 2002
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
William Hite, tenor
Melina Pineda, mezzo-soprano
Aaron Engebreth, baritone
February 15, 1985
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Martin Kelly, tenor
Lorraine DiSimone, mezzo-soprano
Sergio Pelacani, countertenor
Missa, Assumpta est Maria, [H.11]
Kyrie
Gloria
Credo
Sanctus
Agnus Dei
Domine salvum fac regem
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Many people both in his time and in ours have considered Marc-Antoine Charpentier to be at least the equal of the more famous French court composer Lully. For some, he is the greater composer of the two, but, due in large part to Lully's jealousy, he never held a position at the court of Louis XIV or received the kinds of honors that such a position might bring. During his lifetime, Charpentier was highly respected by connoisseurs, and he rose to important posts outside the court, but his originality and emotional depth were never acknowledged or understood by the influential partisans of Lully. As a result, he fell into almost complete obscurity shortly after his death, and his music was only resurrected in the second half of the twentieth century, as he gradually came to be recognized as one of the great composers of the Baroque era. Only the barest outline of his career has survived, with hardly any information about Charpentier the man -- this compared to the wealth of information and accounts about Lully.
Late in his life, Charpentier wrote an ironic and poignant "funeral oration" for himself, in which he depicts himself as a ghost returned to earth:
I was a musician, considered good by the good musicians and ignorant by the ignorant ones. And since those who scorned me were more numerous than those who praised me, music brought me small honor and great burdens. And just as I at birth brought nothing into this world, thus when I died I took nothing away.
Early in his career, Charpentier spent time in Rome. There he met Carissimi, whose intensely expressive music in the Italian style were a great influence on his own music. By his early 30's, he was serving as music director, as well as haute-contre singer (high tenor) for the important musical establishment of the Duchesse de Guise, the king's niece, where he wrote a great many dramatic and sacred works. During that time, he began also to collaborate with Molière and his company on theatrical works, following Molière's falling out with Lully. But his success and his growing reputation as one of the king's favorites eventually aroused the jealousy of Lully, who managed effectively to keep Charpentier from gaining a position at court and who inspired royal edicts that restricted performances of some of his rival's music. Eventually, six years after Lully's death, Charpentier was able to have his tragedy Medée produced at the Opéra. Some considered it one of the great French operas of the age, but, according to his admirers, a cabal was mounted against the work by Lully's supporters, and it received only a lukewarm reception from the general public and critics. He never wrote another opera. He nonetheless held several important posts outside the court, including that of music director of St. Louis, the main Paris church of the Jesuits, where he wrote religious works and sacred dramas. Finally, in 1698, he rose to one of the most prestigious positions in all of France, music director of Sainte-Chapelle. It was there that he wrote the late masterpiece, the mass Assumpta est Maria.
Assumpta est Maria, composed sometime between 1699 and 1702, is the last and arguably the greatest of Charpentier's twelve masses. Its richly textured, contemplative and often serene music closely and sensitively follows the sense of the text. We do not know the exact occasion for which he wrote it, but the large forces required -- a five-part choir plus orchestra and many solo voices in various combinations -- suggest that it was composed for an important holiday or event. It may well have been performed before nobility, perhaps including the king himself , and given its title, it may have been written for the Feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary (August 15). At the end of his setting of the traditional mass text, Charpentier adds an extra psalm to pray for the health of the king (Domine salvum fac regem). It was not unusual at the time to add such a prayer, but it appears that he also planned to go further and conclude with music for a processional exit. However, the final page, with only a title indicating a procession, has been left blank.
Boston Baroque Performances
Missa, Assumpta est Maria, H.11
March 8 & 9, 2013
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Roberta Anderson, soprano
Brenna Wells, soprano
Emily Bieber, soprano
Sabrina Learman, soprano
Thea Lobo, mezzo-soprano
Owen McIntosh, tenor
Jonas Budris, tenor
Murray Kidd, tenor
Brad Gleim, baritone
Ulysses Thomas, bass
March 6 & 7, 2009
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Roberta Anderson, soprano
Gail Abbey, soprano
Sabrina Learman, soprano
Meredith Hall, soprano
Kristen Watson, soprano
Murray Kidd, tenor
Randy McGee, tenor
Lawrence Wiliford, tenor
Brett Johnson, baritone
Ulysses Thomas, bass
Te Deum, H. 146
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Over the past half century, as Charpentier's music has been gradually revived, he has become recognized as one of the great figures of the Baroque era and a composer of great originality and emotional depth. This Te Deum, no doubt his best known work, was the first of his works to be recorded (1953), and its familiar prelude is particularly popular in Europe as a theme song on Eurovision.
The ancient Te Deum hymn was often set to music through the centuries to celebrate military victories or other public events, but the exact occasion of this setting by Charpentier is not known for certain. It dates from the early 1690's, when he was music master for the Jesuits in Paris, and it may well have been written to celebrate Louis XIV's victory over the allies at Steenkerque in Flanders (1692).
It is scored for a large ensemble of eight soloists and chorus with an orchestra of flutes, oboes, bassoons, strings, organ, and -- for the only time among his six Te Deums -- for the military sound of trumpets and timpani. It opens with its famous warlike prelude, but then moves between beautiful, introspective solo music and brighter fanfares with chorus, trumpets, and timpani. As always, Charpentier's setting is highly sensitive to the details of the text.
Many people both in his time and in ours have considered Charpentier to be at least the equal of the more famous French court composer Lully. During his lifetime, he was highly respected by connoisseurs and rose to important posts outside the court, but, due largely to Lully's jealousy, he never held a position in the court or received the kinds of honors that such a position might bring.
As a young man, Charpentier spent time in Rome, where he met Carissimi, whose intensely expressive music and Italian style were a great influence on his own music. By his early thirties, he was serving as music director, as well as an haute-contre singer (high tenor) for the important musical establishment of the Duchesse de Guise, the king's niece, for whom he wrote a great many dramatic and sacred works. During that time, he began also to collaborate on theatrical works with Molière and his company of actors. But his success and his growing reputation as one of the king's favorites eventually aroused the jealousy of Lully, who kept Charpentier from gaining a position at court and who was granted royal edicts that restricted performances of some of his rival's music. He nonetheless held several important posts outside the court, including that of music director of St. Louis, the main Paris church of the Jesuits, for whom he wrote religious works and sacred dramas and finally, after the death of Lully, rose to one of the most prestigious positions in all of France, music director of Sainte-Chapelle.
However, as a result of being ostracized from the court, Charpentier fell into complete obscurity shortly after his death. His music was only resurrected in the second half of the twentieth century, and just the barest outline of his career has survived, with hardly any information about Charpentier the man -- this compared to the wealth of information and accounts about Lully. Late in his life, he wrote an ironic and poignant "funeral oration" for himself, in which he depicts himself as a ghost returned to earth:
I was a musician, considered good by the good musicians and ignorant by the ignorant ones. And since those who scorned me were more numerous than those who praised me, music brought me small honor and great burdens. And just as I at birth brought nothing into this world, thus when I died I took nothing away.
Boston Baroque Performances
Te Deum, H. 146
February 14 & 16, 2014
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Brenna Wells, soprano
Lawrence Wiliford, tenor
Katherine Growdon, mezzo-soprano
Jason Wang, tenor
Jonas Budris, tenor
Andrew Garland, baritone
Dana Whiteside, baritone
Requiem in C minor
Chorus: S-A-T-B
(No vocal soloists)
Orchestra: 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones,
timpani, tam-tam, strings
***
Introitus and Kyrie
Graduale
Sequence: Dies irae and Lacrimosa
Offertorium: Domine Jesu and Hostias
Sanctus and Benedictus
Pie Jesu
Agnus Dei
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
On January 21, 1817, an unusual memorial took place in the crypt below the abbey church of St. Denis, where most of the kings of France lay buried. It was there, before a large audience, that Cherubini's Requiem in C minor was first performed to commemorate the twenty-fourth anniversary of the execution of Louis XVI at the hands of the Revolution. A few years earlier, after Napoleon had abdicated and been sent to his brief exile at Elba, the restored monarchy ordered a search for the bodies of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. They were found and brought to the crypt of St. Denis. Then, after Napoleon's return and final defeat at Waterloo, the government of Louis XVIII planned a memorial service and commissioned Cherubini to compose a requiem for the occasion.
The success of Cherubini's requiem was immediate, and it was so overwhelming that Berlioz claimed that it gained a virtual "monopoly" over memorial concerts in France. Beethoven, who called Cherubini "the greatest living composer," claimed that, if he himself should write a requiem, this one would be his only model. The work was performed at Beethoven's memorial service. For Schumann, the piece was "without equal." It is remarkable, therefore, that this beautiful work so admired by these composers, as well as by Mendelssohn and Brahms, this requiem which the nineteenth century put on a level with the Mozart Requiem, fell into obscurity by the end of the century, along with most of the rest of Cherubini's music.
The first part of Cherubini's life centered around opera. After growing up in Italy and residing briefly in London, he moved to Paris at the age of 27 and lived there for the rest of his life. He quickly became a dominant figure on the French musical scene with popular successes as an opera composer, as well as a career as a well-known teacher and administrator. He founded his own opera company just before the Revolution, but its royal connections -- the future Louis XVIII being an important patron -- forced him to disband it after a few years.
Then his musical career waned to the point that he believed it was over. Napoleon disliked his music, and public tastes changed. By the beginning of the nineteenth century, Cherubini was suffering from depression and gave up composing entirely to spend his time with botany and painting. But in 1808, he was asked to write music for a local church, and, from that point on, he took an interest in writing primarily religious music. He had earlier introduced Mozart's Requiem to Paris for the first time, and, with the premiere of his own Requiem, he was back in the musical limelight. In 1816, he was appointed surintendent de la musique du roi, as well as a director of music for the Royal Chapel, and in 1824 he was appointed director of the Paris Conservatoire, an influential post which he held till just before his death in 1842. In this latter role, he shaped the course of French musical education for the rest of the century.
There is a second requiem by Cherubini, one in D minor, which he composed in the 1830's, after the archbishop of Paris objected to women singing in a funeral service. This later work calls for men's voices only and was designated by the composer for his own funeral service.
It is striking that the Requiem in C minor has no vocal soloists, as if the composer has moved as far away as possible from his previous life in opera. The work opens with a dark orchestral color, having no violins in the first two movements. In the third movement, the dramatic Dies irae (Day of wrath), we hear a dramatic, terrifying stroke on the tam-tam just before the chorus enters. It was a controversial effect at the time, one that some listeners felt was too theatrical for religious music, but the intensity of such moments is balanced in much of the requiem by more reflective music and beautiful harmonic and melodic writing. The entire work ends with a striking innovation for its time, an Agnus Dei which slowly fades away in a long diminuendo. Berlioz called it an ending which "surpasses anything of the kind that has been written."
Boston Baroque Performances
Requiem in C minor
May 5 & 6, 2006
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Médée
Opera in 3 acts
Cast:
Medée (soprano)
Jason (tenor)
Créon, king (bass)
Dircé, daughter of Créon's (soprano)
Néris, slave of Medée (soprano)
Two handmaidens (sopranos)
Captain of the guard (speaking role)
Chorus
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Cherubini's Médée is known today as a challenging, dramatic vehicle for great sopranos, most famously for Maria Callas, for whom it was revived and who sang it numerous times from 1953 into the early 1960's. But what we hear in Callas's and in most recordings is not the work that Cherubini originally wrote.
At its Paris premiere in 1797, Médée was sung in French with spoken dialogue between its musical numbers. In that sense, it followed the conventions of the French opéra-comique, a term which by that time connoted not a comic opera but rather an opera with spoken dialogue. Indeed, Cherubini invested his opéra-comique with unprecedented emotional intensity. The libretto by François-Benoît Hoffmann tells the story of the sorceress Medea, who, having been abandoned by her lover Jason, sacrifices everything to her revenge, including their two children. It is based on the myth as told in Euripides' tragedy and Corneille's play Médée, and, together with Cherubini's music, it presents the Medea story in all its horror. The sustained drama of Medea's struggle, ending in vengeance and murder, and the dark focus on the psychological states of the main characters go beyond anything that had been seen before in opera.
Although the first audiences were lukewarm to the work, it was acclaimed by critics and was admired and highly respected by musicians as eminent as Beethoven, Schumann and Wagner. Brahms called it "the work that we musicians recognize among ourselves as the highest peak of dramatic music."
Five years after the Paris premiere, the opera was translated into Italian for its premiere in Vienna, and some years after that, Cherubini shortened it for another Italian-language production. But then, a little over a decade after Cherubini's death, the opera truly changed. In 1855, the composer and conductor Franz Lachner presented the opera in German in Frankfurt. For that production, not only did Lachner use the shortened version and have it translated into German, but he replaced all the spoken dialogue with recitatives that he himself composed. Médée was now a more traditional opera, sung throughout, with recitatives in a later style.
In the early twentieth century, Lachner's version was translated back into Italian for its premiere at La Scala. It was this Italian-language hybrid Medea, in its shortened version and with Lachner's recitatives, that was revived for Maria Callas in 1953 and that is heard in most productions and recordings since that time. Only since the mid-1980s have a few productions attempted to go back to Cherubini's original French opéra-comique.
Boston Baroque Performances
Arias from Médée
October 15 & 16, 2010
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Barbara Quintiliani, soprano
Marche funèbre
2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, tam-tam, strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This funeral march, written in 1820 for a service in the French Royal Chapel, was not published until 1981. If Cherubini was criticized for the shocking single stroke of the tam-tam in his Requiem, the dramatic effects in this march go much further. The piece opens with a solo stroke of the tam-tam, followed by a measure for solo timpani and then impassioned dissonances in the orchestra. The sound of the tam-tam, or low gong, which is used continually throughout the work, was not a common effect but it was not new. It had been introduced into orchestral music nearly thirty years earlier, when François-Joseph Gossec used it in his funeral music for the French revolutionary hero Mirabeau, and it had been occasionally employed by other composers. As we might expect from a march, this is ceremonial music, but despite its use in the Royal Chapel, it indulges freely in theatrical effects.
Il maestro di cappella
Intermezzo for baritone and orchestra
Orchestration from the surviving piano score by Martin Pearlman
1 flute, 2 oboes, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, and strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Il maestro di cappella (The music director), like Mozart's The Impresario, is a parody of the music business. This short comic intermezzo casts the baritone soloist as an aggressive, pompous leader of an orchestra with very little to say about the music he is rehearsing. The occasion for its composition is not known. It is thought to date from between 1786 and 1793, during most of which time Cimarosa was serving as maestro di cappella at the court of Catherine the Great in St. Petersburg. While he was there, the music budget was severely cut, and the resident Italian opera company was reduced to only a few singers. A solo work such as this would certainly have fit the budget, although it perhaps more likely served as a comic intermezzo between acts of a full-length opera.
Under the austere circumstances at the Russian court, it is hardly surprising that Cimarosa would leave to accept an invitation to be Kapellmeister (maestro di cappella) at the court of Leopold II in Vienna. He arrived to take up his new post in 1791, the year of Mozart's death. The following year, his most famous opera, Il matrimonio segreto, was premiered with such success that the emperor ordered it to be repeated the same evening. However, one year later, his patron Leopold died, and Cimarosa returned to his native Naples. There his politics got him into trouble. His sympathies for the short-lived republic landed him in prison, and only through the intercession of friends did he escape a death sentence. On his release, he returned to Vienna, where his health soon deteriorated and, in January of 1801, he died. With rumors circulating that he had been poisoned for political reasons, the government was forced to issue a medical report certifying that he had died of natural causes.
Late in his life and even for a time after his death -- until the advent of Rossini -- Cimarosa was the most popular of Italian opera composers. Haydn conducted many of his operas at Esterháza, and Goethe translated his impresario opera, L'Impresario in angustie. Stendhal wrote of the "rarest shades of emotion" found in the music of Cimarosa and Mozart.
Unfortunately, Il maestro di cappella survives only in a piano reduction that was copied out shortly after Cimarosa's death, although originally the soloist would doubtless have been accompanied by an orchestra, since throughout the work the soloist "conductor" sings about each instrument in the orchestra, complaining about how they play, telling them what to do, and trying initially with little success to teach them their music. Early in the twentieth-century, the surviving piano score was orchestrated and published. But, although that edition commendably made the work known to the music world, its orchestration reflects later tastes and includes some wind passages that do not fit on the instruments of Cimarosa's time. Structurally it somewhat alters the shape of the work by making cuts in some places and adding repeats in others. For that reason, I made this orchestration for Boston Baroque performances based on the surviving piano score. It presents the full work as it appears in the piano score and is orchestrated to suit the instruments of Cimarosa's time.
Performance Edition by Martin Pearlman
Below are preview photos from the edition. You can download or view a PDF of the full edition here.
If interested in purchasing the performing parts for this work, please contact Boston Baroque at info@bostonbaroque.org.
© Boston Baroque 2022
Boston Baroque Performances
Il maestro di cappella
December 31, 2021 & January 1, 2022
GBH’s Calderwood Studio, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
David McFerrin, baritone
December 31, 2014 & January 1, 2015
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Andrew Garland, baritone
December 31, 2009 & January 1, 2010
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
David Kravitz, baritone
May 11 & 13, 2000
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Michael Dean, baritone
October 11, 1991
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
David Evitts, baritone
Te Deum
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Michel-Richard Delalande (whose name also appears as La Lande, de Lalande, and de La Lande) was one of the major composers in the generation after Lully at the courts of Louis XIV and Lous XV. He was an organist and harpsichordist and also played violin (although he is said to have been rejected by Lully as a violinist for his opera orchestra). At the age of 26, he won a competition to become one of the organists at the royal chapel at Versailles and over time was appointed to increasingly higher posts. Well liked by the king, he became Lully's successor in charge of music at court. Delalande is perhaps best known for his more than seventy grand motets written for the royal chapel and for his popular instrumental Symphonies, which were reportedly "performed every fifteen days during the suppers of Louis XIV and Louis XV."
His Te Deum is a grand motet for the royal court. With contrasting solo and choral sections and a full orchestra, it has a great variety of sonorities and emotions, ranging from intimate and even introverted music to grandiose movements with trumpets and timpani. It was one of Delalande's most popular and frequently performed works during his lifetime and for many decades afterwards.
The Te Deum exists in two very different versions. It was originally written in 1684, when the composer was 27 years old, but he completely reworked it at a later date, composing new solo movements and almost doubling its length. Each version has its virtues. The earlier one has a youthful exuberance in its beautiful music, while the later and longer version is a more monumental work.
Boston Baroque Performances
Te Deum
November 2, 1996
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Mara Bonde, soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Randy McGee, tenor
Philip Lima, baritone
Capriccio stravagante
Canzona - The hurdy-gurdy - The small shawm -
Variations on the hurdy gurdy -
Playing with the wood of the bow - Presto - Adagio -
Trumpets - Clarino - Timpani -
The hen and rooster - Presto - The tremulant (of the organ) -
The soldiers' fifes and drums - The cat - Adagio -
The dog - Allegro - Adagio -
The Spanish guitar - Adagio
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Carlo Farina, a virtuoso violinist and one of the important early composers for his instrument, wrote some of the earliest violin sonatas and helped introduce that new Italian genre in Germany. He spent his early years at Mantua and in 1625 became concertmaster at Dresden, where he would have known Heinrich Schütz. He held various positions in Bonn, as well as in Italy, to which he returned, and is known to have later worked in Vienna. It is conjectured that he died of the plague sometime around 1640.
The Capriccio stravagante, a humorous chamber piece for string instruments published in Dresden in 1626, is one of the most avant-garde works from a very experimental time in music history. Not only does it call for new effects on the violin -- glissando, pizzicato, sul ponticello (bowing close to the bridge), col legno (playing with the wood of the bow), tremolo -- some of them for the first time, but it is also full of musical jokes, imitating the clucking of a hen, the crowing of a rooster, an organist getting lost in his improvisation, the meowing and fighting of cats, the barking of a dog, and a closing section that ends in no particular key but simply slows down, gets softer, and fades away.
Boston Baroque Performances
Capriccio stravagante
January 27, 1987
Northwest Bach Festival, Spokane, WA
July 10, 1983
Indianapolis Museum of Art, Indianapolis, IN
Indianapolis Early Music Festival
February 19, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
November 4, 1977
Paine Hall, Cambridge, MA
October 1, 1977
Harvard Unitarian Church, Harvard, MA
September 29, 1977
Regis College, Weston, MA
Concerti grossi on Corelli's opus 5 sonatas
Concertino: Violin I, Violin II, Viola, Cello
Ripieno: Violin I, Violin II, Viola, Continuo (cello, violone, harpsichord)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Francesco Geminiani (1687-1762), one of the great virtuoso violinists of his time, was also an elegant composer and important theorist. His books The Art of Playing on the Violin, A Treatise of Good Taste in the Art of Musick and a book on accompaniment are for us today important sources of information on performance practices of the time.
As a young man in Rome, Geminiani studied with Corelli, who remained a major influence on him both as a violinist and a composer. At the age of twenty-seven, he moved to London and lived first there and then in Dublin for the remainder of his life.
Geminiani wrote several sets of concerti grossi modeled on those of Corelli, but his first venture into the genre was not to write original music, but to arrange Corelli's sonatas for solo violin into concerti grossi. He published these concerto arrangements in two volumes without an opus number in 1726-1727. It was not only an homage to his former teacher but perhaps also a way of studying Corelli's music, much as Bach did in arranging concertos of Vivaldi and others. Corelli's brilliant solo violin pieces here became sparkling orchestral works, with a group of solo instruments contrasted against the larger ensemble. In doing this, Geminiani had to fill in counterpoint and harmony that was only implied in Corelli's original sonatas.
For some of the solo violin passages in the slow movements of these concerti, one might, according to one's taste, adapt Corelli's ornaments from his original violin sonatas. Those ornaments appeared in the first publication of the sonatas, where there are two versions of the violin part in the slow movements, one a simple and unadorned melodic line and the other an elaborately ornamented version attributed to Corelli himself.
Boston Baroque has adapted and used Corelli's ornaments in this way in performances, as well as on a recording of Geminiani's Concerto grosso in F. Both that concerto, which is based on Corelli's Sonata, Op. 5, No. 4, and Geminiani's La Follia, a concerto based on Corelli's Op. 5, No. 12, were recorded together with Vivaldi's Four Seasons on a Telarc CD.
Boston Baroque Performances
Variations on La follia, Concerto Grosso No. 12 in D minor
December 31, 2010 & January 1, 2011
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Alceste
Opera in three acts
Original Italian libretto by Ranieri Calzabigi
French libretto adapted by François-Louis Gaud le Bland du Roullet
First performance of Italian version: Vienna, December 26, 1767
First performance of French version: Paris, April 23, 1776
Cast for French version:
Admète, king of Thessaly (tenor)
Alceste, wife of Admète (soprano)
Grand priest (bass)
Évandre, ruler of the Pherae people (tenor)
A herald (bass)
Hercule (Hercules) (bass)
Apollon (Apollo) (baritone)
An oracle (bass)
An infernal god (bass)
Coryphée (chorus soloists-SATB)
Chorus
Orchestra: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, strings, harpsichord
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Alceste
January 28, & 30, 2005
Cutler Majestic Theatre, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Brad Dalton, stage director
In collaboration with Opera Boston
Soloists:
Nicolle Foland - Alceste
Norman Shankle - Admète
Sumner Thompson - Apollo
Stephen Salters - High Priest
Kevin Deas - Oracle
Charles Blandy - Évandre
Sarah Asmar - Coryphée
Suite from the ballet Don Juan
Sinfonia
Andante grazioso
Andante
Gavotte
Moderato
Allegretto
Allegro
Allegretto
Larghetto - Allegro non troppo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Gluck completed his ballet-pantomime Don Juan in 1761, just one year before his opera Orfeo ed Euridice. Contemporary accounts tell us that not only was it a stunning success but it truly astonished many listeners, for this work is revolutionary for ballet in much the same way that Orfeo is for opera. In place of the traditional virtuoso display or galant entertainment, with more or less interchangeable dance numbers, this ballet presents a dramatic story with developed characters and genuine emotional content. The costumes and scenery too went beyond the stereotypes that were traditional in ballet of the time. Although avant-garde ideas such as these were already in the air, having them realized on such a high artistic level was a new experience for the Viennese. "If we can stir up every passion by a mute play, why should we be forbidden to attempt this?" asked the choreographer, Gaspero Angiolini. The scenario was written by Raniero de Calzabigi, who later joined Gluck and Angiolini, as well as the famous set designer Quaglio for the opera Orfeo ed Euridice. They are in some ways reminiscent of some of the teams that Diaghalev put together early in the twentieth century, with each man being remembered today as an important reformer in his field.
Gluck's music to Don Juan influenced and was even "borrowed" by a number of composers, and Gluck himself adapted and reused various pieces from it in his later works. The damnation music at the end turns up as the "Dance of the Furies" in the French version of Orfeo. Not surprisingly, there are subtle parallels with Mozart's Don Giovanni. But Mozart's greatest debt to Gluck's ballet is in the fandango in his Marriage of Figaro, which is based on the fifth piece (Moderato) in this suite.
This suite represents about a third of the music in the entire ballet. Following the opening Sinfonia, the first two numbers take place in the street between the houses of Don Juan and the Commendatore. From the Gavotte through the second Allegretto, we are at a party in the Don's house, at which the statue of the slain Commendatore appears and invites Don Juan to return his visit. The final Larghetto and Allegro non troppo end the ballet with the damnation scene at the cemetery, in which Don Juan is cast into hell.
Boston Baroque Performances
Suite from Don Juan
March 16, 1996
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Iphigénie en Tauride (Iphigenia in Tauris)
Opera in four acts
Libretto by Nicolas-François Guillard
First performance: Paris, May 18, 1779
Cast:
Iphigénie, priestess of Diana, soprano
Oreste, her brother, baritone
Pylade, friend of Oreste, tenor
Thoas, king of Tauris, bass
First priestess, soprano
Second priestess, soprano
A Greek woman, soprano
A Scythian, bass
Minister of Thoas, bass
Diana, the goddess, soprano
Choruses of priestesses, Scythians, furies, Greek warriors
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Gluck, a composer esteemed by Berlioz and admired by Wagner, whose name is engraved next to Beethoven's and Mozart's on many nineteenth-century concert halls, is sadly neglected today. Histories of music grant Gluck a prominent place as an important mid-eighteenth-century revolutionary, who gave opera a new breath of life, broke down formal conventions to make opera dynamic and truly dramatic, and influenced the course of opera into the nineteenth century. Rousseau spoke for many when he described Gluck's operas as the beginning of a new era, and audiences of the time found the operas unprecedented in their dramatic impact. Yet today, his best known opera, Orfeo ed Euridice, is heard only occasionally, and his later works—including Iphigénie en Tauride, which is widely considered his greatest achievement—are rarely performed.
The music itself, considered apart from the drama, is very attractive, but relatively simple. Heard in its dramatic context, though, we feel Gluck's real genius. He was first and foremost a dramatist, aiming everything in the music toward characterization and powerful dramatic effects. "I believed," he wrote in his preface to Armide, "that my greatest labor should be devoted to seeking a beautiful simplicity…There is no rule which I have not thought it right to set aside willingly for the sake of an intended effect." For that reason, a performance of his late operas must not only have the transparent textures that such a "beautiful simplicity" requires but also project the large sweep of the drama, always maintaining a forward movement. The effectiveness of this music therefore relies heavily on how it is interpreted. Winton Dean, in The New Grove Dictionary, has put it more bluntly: "No other great composer's work can sound so impoverished when insensitively performed."
Gluck's stated intention was no less than to resurrect the drama of the ancient theater, a goal which had given impetus to the creation of opera more than a century and a half earlier. To invoke the ancients implied a return to a kind of universal style, a return to what is natural and true. "If my plans are realized, your old-fashioned music will be forever destroyed," Gluck wrote. It would be necessary to dismantle what he saw as the rigid, formalized conventions of opera—the ubiquitous da capo arias, in which a singer predictably repeated the entire opening section of an aria; the regular alternation of arias with secco recitatives; the frequent cadenzas and other virtuoso displays for singers. All these he saw as impediments to the natural flow of the drama. He proposed instead to "confine music to its proper function of serving the poetry and expressing the situations of the plot."
With Gluck's statement, "Before I begin my work, I try to forget that I am a musician," he makes clear that he considers the music to be the servant of the poetry and of the drama. Music, of course, is not truly the servant of the libretto. It does dominate our experience of the drama, and that is why we listen to these operas. But, in his sensitivity to the drama, Gluck evolved new and flexible musical forms to suit the characters and dramatic situations. As he moved from his early opera seria through his reform operas of the 1760s (beginning with his famous Orfeo ed Euridice) to his late masterpieces of the 1770s, the music becomes more continuous, more wedded to the drama, and increasingly free from traditional forms. A composer's intuition and sensibility—or as writers of the time began to call it, a composer's unique genius—could guide him.
Gluck's first opera written for French audiences was Iphigénie en Aulide (1773), which had been produced only with the intervention of Marie Antoinette on his behalf. That opera was a triumph and was followed by a highly acclaimed French version of his earlier Orfeo. By the time of Alceste, his second Parisian opera, Niccolò Piccinni had established himself as Gluck's principal rival in Paris, and Gluck and his music became embroiled in the musical feud between the Gluckists and the Piccinnists. Gluck angrily stopped work on a new opera, Roland, when he learned that Piccinni had been given the same libretto to set to music. Shortly thereafter, partisans attempted to set up another contest, commissioning both composers to set the story of Iphigénie en Tauride. This time, however, Gluck managed to arrange for his version to be produced first, and, in the end, the work made such a sensation that even his enemies had to admire it. Piccinni's Iphigénie was not produced for another two years and proved to be a flop.
Iphigénie en Tauride was premiered in Paris on May 18, 1779. It was Gluck's greatest success and the culmination of his operatic reforms, and it continued to be performed as a classic in the nineteenth century. The music is simple and direct, and the drama is fluid and continuous. Arias and ariosos run into recitatives, for the most part without breaks, and the orchestra plays throughout the opera. Even the convention of the opera overture has been sacrificed: following a brief, calm introduction, there is storm music which leads directly into singing. In Gluck's earlier reform operas, even in Orfeo (1762), the choruses and ballets grow out of the drama, but here they are more fully integrated into the story. The Scythians perform their wild ritual dances between choruses in which they anticipate bloody sacrifices, and the chorus of priestesses converses with Iphigenia and participates in the cultic rites of Artemis (or Diana, to use the libretto's Roman name).
Gluck eventually made a revised German version, Iphigenie auf Tauris, for performances in Vienna in 1781. It was this German version which Goethe, who had written his own Iphigenie auf Tauris, and Schiller later produced in Weimar. On that occasion, Schiller wrote, "Never has a work of music moved me with such purity and beauty as this one. It is a world of harmony, which goes directly to the soul and dissolves it in a sweet and noble sadness."
The exceptionally fine libretto by Nicolas-François Guillard is based on plays by Guymond de la Touche and Racine, but ultimately it derives from the play by Euripides. It tells a story which forgoes the traditional pair of operatic lovers, focusing instead on the relationship between sister and brother and on the love between two close friends, Orestes and Pylades. With his extraordinary characterization of these two relationships, Gluck builds a powerful drama, which culminates at the point when the original ritual sacrifice of Iphigenia is almost repeated with the sacrifice of Orestes. The opera has sometimes been criticized for its surprise happy ending to a "realistic" tragedy, but in fact the ending follows the original Euripides play. In any event, Gluck staunchly defended his right to tell the story as he wanted and, in this instance, he did not challenge convention but fulfilled the expectations of the French opera audience of his day.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performance
Iphigénie en Tauride
April 20, 21 & 23, 2023
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Mo Zhou, stage director
Soloists:
Soula Parassidis - Iphigénie
Jesse Blumberg - Oreste
William Burden - Pylade
David McFerrin - Thoas
Angela Lam - Diana
October 22 & 23, 1999
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Laurence Senelick, stage director
Soloists:
Christine Goerke - Iphigénie
Rodney Gilfry - Oreste
Vinson Cole - Pylade
Stephen Salters - Thoas
Sharon Baker - First Priestess & Greek Woman (recording only)
Karyl Ryczek - First Priestess & Greek Woman (Jordan Hall performance only)
Jayne West - Second Priestess & Diana
Mark Risinger - Minister of Thoas
Orfeo ed Euridice (original 1762 version)
Opera in three acts
Libretto by Ranieri Calzabigi
First performance: Vienna, October 5, 1762
Cast:
Orfeo (alto castrato/countertenor)
Euridice (soprano)
Amore (soprano)
Chorus
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
When I first began to listen to Gluck's Orpheus opera years ago, I could not reconcile what I read about the opera with what I heard. The history books all tell us that this is a revolutionary work, a milestone in the history of opera. In it, Gluck and his librettist Calzabigi introduced sweeping reforms in an effort to make opera seria more natural and dramatic, and their success has been acclaimed for over two hundred years. Yet, despite the beauty and simplicity of the music and despite its famous underworld scene with demons and furies, the opera as a whole seemed curiously undramatic. It was only years later that I learned the reason: what we generally hear in performances of the opera is not the bold, innovative work that Gluck originally wrote. Rather, it is most often either a later version by Gluck himself, an adaptation by Berlioz, Liszt or others, or a composite of more than one version, all of which have watered down the succinctness and impact of the original drama.
Orfeo ed Euridice was first presented in Vienna in 1762. That initial version was in Italian and featured in the title role the famous alto castrato Guadagni, the same singer for whom Handel had written arias in Messiah and Samson. Some seven years later, in 1769, Gluck transposed much of the music higher for performances by the soprano castrato, Giuseppe Millico, but dramatically the work was essentially the same. Gluck and his librettist Calzabigi explain some of their reforms in a manifesto: they have done away with the traditional da capo arias, because the drama is weakened by repeating long sections of music that have been sung once already; and the drama should not wait while singers show off their virtuosity in cadenzas. What was paramount for them was expressing the words directly and simply, in order to project the drama. Many musical numbers in Orfeo are run together to create a greater dramatic flow than was possible in operas earlier in the century, and, with the orchestra playing throughout the opera, there are no secco recitatives to break the dramatic continuity. For Gluck, Italian opera needed to be purged of the "abuses" introduced by vain singers and compliant composers. "I believed that my greatest labor should be devoted to seeking a beautiful simplicity . . . and there is no rule which I have not thought it right to set aside willingly for the sake of an intended effect."
In 1774, Gluck mounted a new production in Paris and thoroughly reworked the opera to suit French tastes. The revolutionary Orfeo was now transformed to a conservative Orphée. Not only was it translated into French, which necessitated rewriting most of the recitatives, but the role of Orpheus was rewritten for a high tenor voice. This latter change, dictated by the French distaste for castrati, meant that the demigod singer Orpheus would no longer have the ethereal quality of the high castrato but a more heroic tenor sound. The colorful, innovative orchestration of the original had to be simplified for the larger orchestra and larger hall of Paris. But most importantly for the drama, Gluck acceded to French tastes by adding a good deal of new ballet music, as well as a few new arias (the latter including some bravura writing of the kind he had renounced for the original version). The short opera was now considerably longer and the conciseness of the drama was badly compromised. Despite its success with the French public, the new version was criticised by some as being too long to sustain interest in such a simple story.
The French Orphée et Euridice does have many wonderful features, not the least of which is some of Gluck's most famous ballet music, including dances for the blessed spirits and for the furies. For that reason, as well as the difficulty of finding a male alto who can sustain the work, modern performances have often presented either the later French version or a composite of music from the two versions--or even one of the later adaptations by other composers.
To present the original Italian version, we must sacrifice a few well-known numbers which Gluck added later, but in doing so, we recover the forward movement of the drama which so impressed the first audiences. The work is still a pastoral drama with a simple story, and, for that very reason, it is sensitive to being weighed down by the padding which Gluck added for his Parisian audiences.
The lieto fine
Why, in a work that attempts a revolution in drama, do we have the unexpected happy ending? The Greek myth ends tragically for Orpheus. It is a story not only of the power of his music but of the failings of his humanity. But here, at the end of the opera, Eurydice is suddenly restored to life by Love. Generally, the new ending has been attributed to the fact that the premiere was presented for the emperor's nameday: since the story could be taken allegorically, it should not leave the royal consort in hell. There is no doubt a strong case for this, but it is also more than a matter of politics. A happy ending affected by the power of Love may be foreign to the Greek myth, as it would be to our modern theater, but it fits Enlightenment theater, where we are presented with an idealized world.
The true aim of Gluck's reform was to depict the emotions of the characters in a direct and heartfelt way, and that reaches its height before the happy ending. We feel Orfeo's passion, and his aria Che faro senz' Euridice (What will I do without Euridice) after he loses his lover, is justly famous for its unexpected poignancy in a major key. Gluck's opera points the way to opera of the next century. His dramas were esteemed by Berlioz and admired by Wagner, and his name is engraved next to Beethoven's and Mozart's on many nineteenth-century concert halls. Rousseau spoke for many when he described Gluck's operas as the beginning of a new era. Audiences of the time found them unprecedented in their dramatic impact
Instruments
Gluck's orchestration is unusually colorful and innovative, particularly in the original Italian Orfeo, and musical examples from it appear in Berlioz' important book on orchestration. The famous aria, Che puro ciel, which Orpheus sings when he first beholds the transcendent light of the underworld, has an extraordinary orchestral texture: small sparkling figuration in the solo flute and solo cello play against a sustained melody in the oboe, all of it set against a halo of orchestral sound. (Gluck had to simplify this detailed orchestration for the large hall in Paris.) In other numbers, he calls for several unusual instruments --cornetto, English horn, chalumeau (the early clarinet)-- which were unavailable to him for his later French production. Of course, the featured instrument is the harp, which despite its small part, is an actor in the drama. It is Orpheus's instrument, with which he accompanies himself as he tames the demons of the underworld. While the exact type of harp that Gluck would have had available for his Vienna premiere has been a matter of some speculation, the instrument would in any case not have had the pedals that create chromatic notes on harps today.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Orfeo ed Euridice
March 4 & 5, 2012
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
David Gately, stage director
Gianni Di Marco, choreographer
Soloists:
Owen Willetts, Orfeo
Mary Wilson, Euridice
Courtney Huffman, Amor
May 11, 1995
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jeffrey Gall, Orfeo
Marvis Martin, Euridice
Jayne West, Amor
Orfeo ed Euridice - Orchestral Suite
May 11 & 13 2000
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Agrippina condotta a morire
Cantata for soprano, 2 violins and continuo
[other instruments ad libitum]
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Agrippina, the mother of the emperor Nero, was put to death by order of her son in 59 A. D. Through marriage, politics and poison she had managed to place her son on the throne, but after further intrigues, relations between mother and son soured, and she found herself the intended victim of various "accidents." The cantata Agrippina condotta a morire (Agrippina led to her death) is a dramatic monologue, in which she vacillates between cursing Nero in angry arias and asking in despair how her own son could order her death. Ultimately she resigns herself to her fate, as the music ends quietly in a recitative.
This is a youthful work dating from about 1708. Handel wrote it in Italy during the apprentice years that he spent there before going to England, years in which he studied the latest Italian styles at their source. In those years, between the ages of 21 and 25, he composed over a hundred chamber cantatas, as well as other works. Also written during this period was his opera Agrippina, inspired by the same character. The librettist of the cantata is unknown.
The work is scored for solo soprano with two treble instruments and continuo, but the score does not specify the instruments that are to play the treble lines. The writing in those upper lines is clearly for violins, but that leaves open the possibility of playing the work with only two violins and bass instruments or with multiple violins. There is also the possibility of adding a wind instrument to double the violins in some of the arias.
Boston Baroque Performances
Agrippina condotta a morire
December 31, 2008 & January 1, 2009
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Kristen Watson, soprano
December 31, 2001 & January 1, 2002
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Sharon Baker, soprano
September 30, 1994
Harvard Business School, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 26, 1990
University of New Hampshire, Durham, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 16, 1990
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
April 23, 1988
Strawbery Banke, Portsmouth, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 4, 1985
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
September 27, 1985
Bates College, Lewiston, ME
Martin Pearlman, conductor
March 5, 1985
Baylor University, Waco, TX
Martin Pearlman, conductor
February 26, 1985
Troy Music Hall, Troy, NY
Martin Pearlman, conductor
February 23, 1985
Palace Civic Center, Lorain, OH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
February 22, 1985
Olean High School Auditorium, Olean, NY
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Apollo e Dafne
Cantata for soprano and baritone
with flute, 2 oboes, bassoon, violin solo, violins 1 & 2, cello solo, continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Apollo e Dafne is a youthful work, dating from about 1708, when Handel was nearing the end of his apprenticeship in Italy. It is one of more than 100 cantatas that he composed for private gatherings and academies at the homes of patrons, but it is unusual among his cantatas. Not only does it have a more extended drama than most cantatas, but it calls for more instruments than most and is written for two singers instead of the usual solo voice. It is also unusually theatrical, almost operatic, in the interplay between the two characters, as well as in the colorful effects in the orchestra--the sighing flute representing Apollo's pipes, the extraordinary solos for oboe, cello and violin, and the dramatic tremolos in the strings. The cantata has no overture but opens with a recitative, although performances often open with an instrumental piece, one generally chosen from one of Handel's other works.
The librettist was the Roman Cardinal Pamphili, who was one of the composer's patrons and who had earlier written the libretto for Handel's oratorio, Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno, as well as libretti for Alessandro Scarlatti and others. Pamphili follows the most popular version of the Apollo and Daphne story, the one that comes from Ovid. Apollo, the great god of music and poetry, has destroyed the monster Python at Delphi and established there the center of his own cult. As the cantata begins, he is boasting of his great victory and ridiculing the boy Cupid, whose arrows are mere toys next to his. Cupid can only inflame lovers, a trivial business compared to killing a dragon. In response, Cupid wounds Apollo with a golden arrow, and the latter immediately falls in love with the first creature he sees, the nymph Daphne. However, the god of love has wounded Daphne with a leaden arrow, and she rejects Apollo's advances. Failing in his attempts to woo her, Apollo becomes more persistent and the nymph flees, but she cannot outrun a god. As he is about to catch her, Daphne cries out to her father, a river god, who saves her by transforming her into a laurel tree. The laurel would ever after be sacred to Apollo, and its leaves would form his crown.
Boston Baroque Performances
Apollo e Dafne
October 28, 1994
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Kevin McMillan - Apollo
Sharon Baker - Dafne
Tra la fiamme
Cantata for soprano with 2 recorders, oboe, violins 1 & 2, viola da gamba, and continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
The cantata Tra le fiamme (In the flames) dates from about 1708, during Handel's apprenticeship years in Italy. It was a time when he wrote over a hundred Italian cantatas. The cerebral text of this work, so characteristic of the Italian academies that Handel frequented, compares flights of the human spirit to the journey of Dedalus and Icarus, as well as to butterflies being drawn to the flame. It was written by the Cardinal Pamphili, a noted poet and humanist who provided Handel with a number of other librettos, as well.
The sonority of this work is unusual and beautiful. It is scored for solo soprano with recorders, oboes, viola da gamba, violins and continuo. Every aria has an obbligato part for the viola da gamba. That and the combination of recorders and gamba in the opening movement create a light and transparent texture for this cantata about flight. The opening movement is repeated at the end of the cantata.
Handel later returned to this cantata a number of times to borrow music from it for use in several of his Italian operas.
Boston Baroque Performances
Tra le fiamme
January 1, 1997
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Laura Jeppesen, viola da gamba
January 1, 1993
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1992
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 11, 1988
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Chandos Anthem No. 8, "O Come, Let Us Sing"
Soloists: soprano, tenor
Chorus: S-A-T-B
Orchestra: 2 recorders, oboe, violins 1 & 2, continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In 1717, five years after moving to London and in the year of his famous Water Music, Handel was hired by James Brydges, the Earl of Carnarvon, as resident composer for his personal musical establishment. The earl had built a fortune through his somewhat questionable dealings as paymaster for the army in the recent War of the Spanish Succession, and with his wealth he established an extravagant household known as Cannons. Like many small courts on the continent, it had its own musical establishment. In 1719, the earl was made the first Duke of Chandos, and the anthems that Handel had written for him became known as the Chandos Anthems.
During his two years at Cannons, Handel wrote a good deal of music, including Acis and Galatea, the oratorio Esther, and his eleven Chandos Anthems. The anthem "O Come, Let Us Sing," like the other Chandos anthems, is scored for small chorus and soloists plus the somewhat limited orchestral forces of the house. For winds, there is only one oboe part, although one aria does call for two recorders, and there are no violas. It is joyous music by a youthful composer, and the slow movements are deeply felt. The text is a compilation of verses from five psalms out of the Anglican Prayer Book.
Sonata
Chorus
O come, let us sing unto the Lord, let us heartily rejoice in the strength of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving and show ourselves glad in him with psalms. For the Lord is a great God and a great King above all Gods.
(Psalm 95, 1-3)
Tenor
O come, let us worship and fall down and kneel before the Lord our maker; for he is the Lord our God, and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand.
(Psalm 95, 6-7)
Chorus
Glory and worship are before him; power and honor are in his sanctuary.
(Psalm 96, 6)
Tenor and Chorus
Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord is King and that he made the world so fast it cannot be moved.
(Psalm 96, 10)
Soprano
O magnify the Lord and worship him upon his holy hill, for the Lord our God is holy.
(Psalm 99, 9)
Alto
The Lord preserveth the souls of the saints; he shall deliver them from the hand of the ungodly.
(Psalm 97, 10)
Tenor
For look, as high as the heaven is in comparison of the earth, so great is his mercy towards them that fear him.
(Psalm 103, 11)
Chorus
There is sprung up a light for the righteous and joyful gladness for such as are true-hearted.
Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous!
(Psalm 97, 11-12)
Boston Baroque Performances
Chandos Anthem No. 8, “O Come, Let Us Sing”
March 8 & 9, 2013
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Teresa Wakim, soprano
Mark Sprinkle, tenor
Owen McIntosh, tenor
Jonas Budris, tenor
Coronation Anthem, "Let Thy Hand be Strengthened"
for chorus (S-A-A-T-B), oboes 1 & 2, strings, continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
On October 11, 1727, George II was crowned king of England in Westminster Abbey, and Handel was commissioned to compose four anthems for the occasion. The anthem Let thy hand be strengthened was the first of the four to be performed at the ceremony and the only one to have no vocal soloists and no trumpets or drums. It is in three movements, of which the first is a glorification of the monarch, the second a plea for justice and mercy, and the the third a joyous Alleluja.
In this music, we see how Handel adapts the traditional English anthem of Purcell and others. It is simple, public music designed to be heard in a large cathedral, as opposed to the finely detailed music that might be desirable in a more intimate setting. Its massive architecture is perfect for the ceremonial occasion, for which reason one or more of these anthems has been heard at every English coronation since 1727.
Boston Baroque Performances
Coronation Anthem, “Let Thy Hand be Strengthened”
January 6, 2001
Portsmouth Music Hall, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2000 & January 1, 2001
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
March 13, 1999
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
February 1, 1987
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, East Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
September 26, 1986
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 26, 1986
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, East Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Gloria
for soprano with violins 1 & 2 and continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In March 2001, the musicologist Hans Joachim Marx announced the discovery of a Gloria by Handel. The manuscript, which had long been in the library of the Royal Academy of Music in London, bears no composer's name, although a previous owner noted on one of the violin parts that the work was by Handel. Even though it was found in a collection of Handel arias, the attribution was not taken seriously, until Professor Marx's close study of both the manuscript and the music itself confirmed that, in all likelihood, the piece was indeed by Handel. The Gloria was then given its modern-day premiere later that year.
In this setting of the Gloria section of the mass, the brilliant solo part for soprano is accompanied only by two violin parts and a bass line. It appears to be an early work of Handel, dating from around 1707 during his apprentice years in Italy. Two of his psalm setting from that year borrow music from this Gloria, and its musical style has the light, youthful character of many of his cantatas and liturgical works of that time.
Boston Baroque Performances
Gloria
March 4 & 5, 2011
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Mary Wilson, soprano
March 13, 2009
Teatro de la Universidad de Puerto Rico (Casals Festival), San Juan, Puerto Rico
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Mary Wilson, soprano
February 28 & March 2, 2002
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Laudate pueri Dominum, HWV 237
Soloist: Soprano
Chorus: S-S-A-T-B
Orchestra: 2 oboes, violins 1 & 2, violas 1 & 2, continuo
***
Laudate pueri
Sit nomen Domini
A solis ortu
Excelsus super omnes
Quis sicut Dominus
Suscitans a terra
Quihabitare facit
Gloria patri
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Handel completed this setting of Psalm 112 on July 8, 1707. He had written a smaller and simpler Laudate pueri not long before, but this one belongs to his first stay in Rome, where he presented some of his most inspired early works for the pope and other dignitaries, works including his Dixit Dominus, the oratorio La Resurrezione, and a number of his greatest cantatas. Like these other works, the Laudate pueri has all the brilliance, as well as the light touch that we associate with the greatest music of Handel's apprentice years in Italy. It is scored for solo soprano, chorus and an orchestra of oboes, strings and continuo.
Boston Baroque Performances
Laudate pueri, HWV 237
November 11, 1997
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Cyndia Sieden, soprano
Ode for St. Cecilia's Day
On a poem by John Dryden
Premiere: London, November 22, 1739
***
Soloists: Soprano, Tenor
Chorus: S-A-T-B
Orchestra: 1 flute, 2 oboes, bassoon(s), 2 trumpets, timpani, strings, organ, continuo
(Instrumental solos for cello, flute, organ)
***
Overture: Larghetto e staccato--Allegro--Menuet
Recitative & accompagnato (tenor)
Chorus
Aria (soprano)
Aria (tenor) and chorus
March
Aria (soprano)
Aria (tenor)
Aria (soprano)
Aria (soprano)
Accompagnato (soprano)
Finale (chorus and soprano)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
For nearly twenty years beginning in 1683, the musicians of London held special celebrations on November 22, the feast day of St. Cecilia, the patron saint of music. Following a church service, there would be a banquet and a performance of a new ode to St. Cecilia, which would praise the power of music. Most notable among the many musicians and poets who participated were Henry Purcell, whose own St. Cecilia odes were models for Handel, as well as John Dryden, who contributed two poems to the celebrations, which were set to music by various composers.
It was well into the next century when Handel was attracted to the two Dryden odes. During the 1730s he was making a fitful transition from Italian opera to English-language works, and in 1736 he set his first Dryden ode, Alexander's Feast, or the Power of Music. Three years later, in 1739, his annual concert series was to open in a new theater on November 22, St. Cecilia's Day. The obvious repertoire would be his own Cecilia ode, Alexander's Feast. That work alone, however, was too short to make a complete concert, so he set about composing music to Dryden's other Cecilia ode to supplement it. The Ode for St. Cecilia's Day, as the second work is known, was the shorter of the two, and formed the final third of the concert.
Handel composed his Ode for St. Cecilia's Day in a mere nine days, during September of 1739. In the short period between the composition of the ode and its premiere, he wrote the twelve great concerti grossi of his opus 6, of which the fifth concerto borrows music from the overture to this ode. The Ode for St. Cecilia's Day was enormously popular, and Handel revived it for performances nine times during his lifetime. All of its arias were soon published, and it was known by many people on the continent.
Handel was clearly inspired by the opportunities in Dryden's poem to depict musical effects. Following the overture, the ode begins with a representation of chaos and the "jarring atoms" being called into order by the power of music. Some of Handel's word painting is unabashedly obvious but very effective. In the first chorus, he depicts the words "From harmony, from heavn'y harmony" with broad, full chords, and the words "Through all the compass of the notes it ran" with scales up and down. The poem and the music then go on to portray the power and character of the various instruments, ending in a massive final chorus, which describes the trumpet at the last judgment when "music shall untune the sky." We have gone from the beginning to the end of time, and music has been the engine of the universe. Jubal, Orpheus, St. Cecilia, music of the spheres, the last judgment -- they are all ingredients in the rich mix of classical and Christian imagery in Dryden's poem and Handel's music.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Ode for St. Cecilia’s Day
March 19 & 20, 2022
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Elena Villalón, soprano
Rufus Müller, tenor
November 2, 1996
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Mara Bonde, soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Concerti Grossi, Op. 6
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In the fall of 1739, immediately after finishing his Ode for St. Cecilia's Day, Handel began composing twelve concerti grossi, completing the entire set within the astonishing space of one month. The dates of completion written at the ends of the concertos range from September 29 to October 30, an average of one concerto every 2-1/2 to 3 days.
His publisher John Walsh had invited him to compose a set of concertos along the lines of those of Corelli and Geminiani, which were popular in England. A new collection by Handel could be expected to sell very well. But Handel no doubt also had another purpose in mind for his new concertos. As he was beginning to turn toward writing English oratorios, it would be a great attraction to an audience to be able to hear new instrumental compositions during the intermissions -- concerti grossi, as well as organ concertos in which he himself could be the soloist. Indeed, we know that some of the concertos in his Opus 6 collection were eventually advertised as part of oratorio performances ("two new Concerto's for several Instruments, never perform'd before"), and, for those occasions, Handel even added oboe parts to some of them to augment the orchestra (nos. 1, 2, 5, and 6).
Much in these concertos reflects the Corellian model that Walsh had hoped for: a trio of two solo violins plus a solo cello that contrasted with the larger string ensemble, as well as some of the same dance movements and types of counterpoint that we hear in Corelli. But Handel's forms are often on a grander scale and more varied than his model.
Just before the final notes were written in the last concerto, an advertisement appeared calling for subscribers to the publication of "Twelve Grand Concerto's . . . Compos'd by Mr. Handel." A distinguished list of subscribers, including some members of the royal family, lent their support to the project, and Walsh published the set in April of 1740. It was not until the second printing the following year, however, that the collection was designated as Handel's Opus 6.
Handel's borrowing
While Handel often worked earlier music of his own and that of other composers into his compositions, his borrowings in these concertos are especially interesting, because they give such a fascinating picture of the music that currently engaged him. Two collections of harpsichord music by other composers figure prominently: Gottlieb Muffat's Componimenti musicali, published not long before Handel began work on these concertos, and Scarlatti's famous set of sonatas known as Essercizi, published in England only the year before. Suggestions and outright quotations from both collections turn up repeatedly in Handel's Opus 6 (although Scarlatti's influence is felt mainly in the earlier concertos of this set). There is also a good deal of Handel's own earlier music that is reused or reworked in these concertos, but two then current works in particular are echoed: his Ode for St. Cecilia's Day, completed only days before he began work on the first of his Opus 6 concertos (the Ode itself quoting from Muffat's Componimenti), and his next to last opera Imeneo, which was not yet completed at the time.
Concerto No. 1 in G Major
(completed September 29, 1739)
The first concerto of Opus 6 is one of the brightest and outgoing of the set. The stately music of the first movement, drawn in part from an earlier version of Handel's overture to Imeneo, leads through an unresolved cadence directly into the following Allegro. This pair of movements is followed by the similarly paired third and fourth movements, to which Handel adds an extra Allegro movement at the end. That final dance-like Allegro draws a good deal of its inspiration from Scarlatti's Sonata in G Major, K. 2, with some of Muffat's music playing a role, as well. Handel ingeniously reorders various motives of the Scarlatti sonata, preserving its binary form but producing in the process an essentially new work.
Concert No. 2 in F Major
(completed October 4, 1739)
The second concerto originally had six movements, instead of four, but Handel decided to shorten the work by eliminating its Andante second movement and its Allegro finale. Fortunately, since Handel often recycled his music rather than discarding it, the two excised movements turn up in other concerti, the Andante as the second movement of the third concerto and the Allegro as the final movement of the ninth.
The concerto opens with the kind of gracious melodic line that one could only associate with Handel. The halting adagio bars at the end of this first movement lead directly into an Allegro that begins like a lively Italian trio sonata. The unusual third movement alternates between two tempi and characters, a weighty Largo and a more flowing Larghetto andante e piano. The unresolved ending of this movement leads into a fugal finale. However, after beginning like a typical fugue, this last movement switches to brief solo episodes with a different type of music: long-note phrases with chordal accompaniments. Eventually these two kinds of music are superimposed and thus reconciled.
Concerto No. 3 in E minor
(completed October 6, 1739)
Following a brief but weighty opening Larghetto, there comes a curious fugal Andante, a movement that is evidently inspired by the last sonata (K. 30) of Scarlatti's Essercizi, the so-called "Cat's Fugue." Handel's main fugue subject with its bizarre intervals is almost an upside-down reproduction of Scarlatti's, and the 6/8 meter, as well as some of the figuration that comes later are identical in the two works. Nonetheless, they are quite differently worked out, and Handel's considerably shorter fugue is gentler in its effect. Following this interesting but convoluted music comes a straightforward Vivaldi-style Allegro, and as one might expect of Vivaldi, it is the solo first violin that predominates, rather than the trio of concertino instruments. The beautiful Polonaise, an extended dance movement, is richly scored, with crisscrossing figuration among the violins and with a drone in the lower parts that is reminiscent of the Musette in the sixth concerto. The work concludes with a very short dance-like movement that is a reworking of a rejected minuet from the composer's recent Ode for St. Cecilia. Here, however, it is not quite a typical minuet anymore. Its tempo marking (Allegro ma non troppo), its 6/8 meter, and its placement after the gentle Polonaise all suggest a somewhat faster and lighter piece.
Concerto No. 4 in A minor
(completed October 8, 1739)
The opening Larghetto affettuoso, a melodic movement with a gently pulsing accompaniment, leads into a contrapuntal Allegro. In the utterly simple and serene third movement Largo, the slow, beautiful counterpoint of the violins unfolds over a gentle walking bass line. For the following Allegro, Handel then reworks the aria "È si vaga del tuo bene" from his opera Imeneo, but the gracious thoughts expressed in the aria do not determine the character of this instrumental version. Here the violin writing and the placement of the movement as a finale after a Largo suggest a more spirited music, and Handel confirms this by changing the original Andante indication of the aria to Allegro.
Concerto No. 5 in D Major
(completed October 10, 1739)
The pair of movements that open this concerto -- the first with bright but stately dotted rhythms and the second with faster contrapuntal music -- form the two parts of a typical French overture, and indeed they did originally come from an overture. Handel lifted them in almost finished form from the overture to his recently completed Ode for St. Cecilia's Day. The third, fourth and fifth movements (Presto, Largo, and Allegro) are original pieces, although one feels the influence of Scarlatti on both the binary form and figuration of the Presto, and the brilliant Allegro does actually quote a Scarlatti sonata (K. 23). Originally, this concerto ended with that Allegro, but Handel later decided to add a sixth movement for which he once again turned to the overture of his St. Cecilia Ode. From it, he adapted the minuet that concludes the overture and added two variations to it. To some who are accustomed to flashy endings, this has seemed like an anticlimax after the preceding Allegro, but this gracious minuet fits a common Baroque tradition of ending with a gentle dance movement, one that we can see in other concerti in this set; and with the two variations added, the movement is substantial enough to make for a satisfying ending after the excitement of the Allegro.
Concerto No. 6 in G minor
(completed October 15, 1739)
Originally this concerto had only four movements, the first being the ones that we have now and the fourth being a Gavotte. Handel then removed the Gavotte and put two movements in its place, a substantial Allegro concerto movement and a shorter Allegro dance movement. The reason was doubtless to balance the central and most weighty piece in this concerto, the Musette, which is not only a slow movement but, being in Eb, is the only one not in the tonic key. The concerto opens with a tragic affettuoso movement followed by a simple, short fugue on a chromatic subject. The beautiful and unusually long Musette -- the title referring to a bagpipe, which Handel suggests by a drone in the bass -- was extraordinarily popular in Handel's time and was often played by itself. The brilliant Allegro that follows is like a concerto movement and features a solo violin. The concluding Allegro is a fast minuet, such as one finds in the concerti of Corelli and others.
Concerto No. 7 in Bb Major
(completed October 12, 1739)
This is the only concerto in Opus 6 that does not call for soloists in any of its movements. It is entirely orchestral, although Handel appears to have originally planned to have two solo violins in the third and fourth movements. He provided separate staves for those soloists in his autograph score but discontinued them shortly after the beginnings of the movements.
The opening Largo is a brief, ten-bar introduction that ends in the dominant and leads directly into the following Allegro. The memorable fugue subject of the Allegro, the first note of which is repeated 14 times in accelerating rhythms, creates a wonderful sense of propulsion throughout the movement.
Just as the first two movements are linked together, the third, fourth and fifth movements, in progressively faster tempos, are also connected. The Largo e piano consists of four phrases, each of which is ten bars in length and ends in a cadence. Following the last of these phrases (an exact repeat of the first), the movement could have ended, but Handel adds three transitional bars to lead into the following Andante. This Andante is essentially a melody piece, with the focus on the first violin line; the other instruments accompany with simple eighth notes for most of the movement, joining the dotted rhythms of the first violins only occasionally. At the end of this Andante, two transitional measures lead into the Hornpipe that concludes the concerto. This lively finale, with its wonderfully disjointed leaps and syncopated rhythms, is modeled on a hornpipe for harpsichord by Muffat.
Concerto No. 8 in C minor
(completed October 18, 1739)
The six movements of this concerto are, in a sense, really four, since the brief Grave and Adagio function as introductions to the longer movements which follow them. The opening Allemande is based on an allemande in G minor from Handel's third collection of harpsichord music. Here the light, two-voice texture of the original harpsichord version is reflected in the imitation between first violins and the bass line, while the second violins and violas add a simple accompaniment. However, Handel abandons his original model after the opening bars, as the original harpsichord piece is expanded and thoroughly rewritten for this concerto. Among other features new to this orchestral version are the surprising accented chords that abruptly change the key.
The second movement consists of an introductory Grave and an Andante allegro. The Grave is formed of two phrases of nearly identical material, after which comes a two-bar transition to the Andante allegro. The nervous motive in the violins and the quick walking bass line which open this Andante allegro were used by Handel some thirty years earlier for a quartet of conspirators in his opera Agrippina. Here, however, it is almost immediately interrupted by a smoother, less articulated music. The two affects are contrasted and occasionally superimposed throughout the movement, always propelled by a relentless eighth-note pulse.
The following Adagio, based on the famous aria Piangerò from Giulio Cesare, has sometimes been criticized for being too short and for abandoning the beautiful original aria after only a few bars in each phrase. But this very brief piece, which begins in Eb and ends in G minor, is clearly not meant to be an independent movement. It is an introduction to the more substantial Siciliana which follows, and the two together form a single two-part movement. The musical material of the Siciliana appears in several alternate versions of arias in Handel's Saul, Imeneo, and Solomon, but only in this concerto is it in a form that is often heard.
The concerto concludes with a short, simple, and quick movement in binary form. In this Allegro, some commentators hear the influence of one of Muffat's harpsichord pieces.
Concerto No. 9 in F Major
(completed c. October 26, 1739 -- no date in autograph)
For much of this concerto, Handel reworked material from his earlier compositions. While the opening Largo and the concluding Gigue are newly composed music, the middle movements are adapted from two consecutive movements of an organ concerto and two consecutive sections of an opera overture.
The Largo which opens the concerto is not a truly independent piece but simply a brief introduction leading into the following Allegro. That bright second movement is a reworking of the second movement of his Organ Concerto in F, known as "The Cuckoo and the Nightingale," but here the striking cuckoo motive of the original is disguised and very much in the background. The Larghetto, with its dotted 6/8 siciliano rhythms, is similarly a reworking and extension of music from the same concerto. As in the organ version, it ends with a three-bar transition that leads into the next movement, but Handel does not continue with the organ concerto. Rather, he turns to his latest but not yet finished opera Imeneo as his source for the following Allegro, simply transposing the entire fast fugal section of the opera overture from G to F. The original opera overture concludes with a little menuet, and in this concerto too, Handel uses that menuet as the next movement, transposing the original down a step and altering only small details in the orchestration of the lower voices. This gentle Menuet is the only piece in the concerto in F minor, but its last phrase strikingly shifts to the major for a brighter ending. The Gigue which concludes the concerto is freshly composed music not modeled on earlier works, although the theme does bear a resemblance to the gigue of a Corelli concerto grosso in the same key, a piece which Handel would certainly have known. Originally Handel wrote this Gigue as the finale of the second concerto, but, when he shortened that work, he moved it here to the end of the ninth concerto.
Concerto No. 10 in D minor
(completed October 22, 1739)
The tenth concerto opens with a French overture: a powerful opening section with characteristic dotted rhythms and fiery thirty-second notes, followed by a quicker fugal section, and concluded by an extremely foreshortened (only six measures long) return to the more serious character of the opening. The Air that follows has sometimes been likened to a sarabande, perhaps because of its tempo. Although it does not have the characteristic rhythmic feel of that dance, it nonetheless requires a rhythmic pulse to maintain its sense of momentum.
The remainder of the concerto consists of three successive Allegro movements. The first of these has no soloists and is a relatively simple, short binary piece with repeats. The middle Allegro movement is longer and more complex, with virtuosic solo parts for the two violins. This D minor concerto then ends in D major with the concluding Allegro moderato. Like the first of the three Allegros, this final movement has no soloists and is relatively simple music, comprising a short binary theme with one variation. The theme begins very much like the aria L'aura non sempre spira from his opera Siroe, but the correspondence is so fleeting that it is difficult to say whether this is a conscious borrowing or the kind of unintentional similarity that can be found in the work of any prolific composer. Handel originally intended this movement as the finale of the twelfth concerto but transposed it from B major to D major, when he decided to move it to the end of this concerto.
Concerto No. 11 in A Major
(completed October 30, 1739)
Although it was published as the eleventh of this set of concertos, the date at the end of the autograph score indicates that this was actually the twelfth and last to be composed. By this time, Handel's publisher Walsh was pressuring him to finish the set, and Handel himself was under pressure to prepare for the upcoming concert season. It was perhaps for that reason that he decided to adapt most of this concerto from a pre-existing work, the Organ Concerto in A Major which he had first performed earlier in that same year. The organ version and the orchestral concerto are essentially the same music, the differences being mainly in small adaptations for the new medium, refinements of rhythmic details, and new inner voices for violas. Only the second movement Allegro of this concerto grosso is newly composed, and that music was later used by Handel as the model for a new organ concerto.
The concerto begins with two connected movements, a noble Andante larghetto, which leads into a faster, contrapuntal Allegro. This pair of movements is then followed by another pair: a very brief (6 bars long) Largo functions as an introduction to an extended Andante. The Largo is made up of a brief progression of chords separated by rests; in the original organ concerto version, Handel directs the organist to improvise figuration (organo ad libitum) on the harmonic skeleton that is written on the page. Following the Andante comes the finale, a substantial Allegro movement with a middle section and a full da capo repeat of the first part. Both these last two movements feature virtuosic writing for the first violin soloist.
Concerto No. 12 in B minor
(completed October 20, 1739)
The opening Largo and Allegro of this concerto form a double slow-fast movement, similar in many ways to the two parts of an overture. The Largo section is built on strong dotted rhythms, much like a French overture, and ends with a very brief transition to the Allegro. This faster music, however, sounds more Italianate, with ritornellos and virtuosic solo parts such as one might find in a concerto. The running opening motive of the Allegro derives from the aria Nel mondo e nell'abisso, which Handel originally composed for his opera Riccardo primo and which he used again in a later version of Tamerlano.
The beautiful, slow middle movement of this B minor concerto, a Larghetto in E major, has one of Handel's famous themes followed by a variation. It was deconstructed to fascinating effect in the 1967 work for orchestra Baroque Variations by Lukas Foss.
The concerto ends with another paired Largo and Allegro. This Largo is no more than a very brief introduction to the fugue which follows, but it creates a welcome buffer between the beautiful ending of the previous movement and the lively finale. It has no theme or development but is rather a "color piece," sustaining a single, beautiful orchestral sonority with gently pulsing eighth notes in the orchestra and overlapping sixteenth-note arpeggios in the solo instruments. Over its mere six measures, it moves slowly through an unstable and unpredictable harmonic progression to settle on the dominant harmony that leads into the following Allegro. That Allegro is a fugue, a somewhat severe one for Handel, perhaps because it borrows its subject from a fugue by his early teacher Friedrich Wilhelm Zachow. The borrowing seems particularly apt, since it may well have been Zachow who first taught Handel the value of finding ideas in the works of other composers.
Originally, Handel ended this concerto with an Allegro moderato but then decided to move that movement to the end of the tenth concerto. That left the fugue as the final movement of this piece. When all twelve concertos were published as a collection, he placed this concerto at the end of the set, even though it was not the last to be composed. Thus the fugue based on Zachow's subject became the conclusion of the entire opus, perhaps an atypical ending for Handel but a touching tribute to his teacher of long ago.
Boston Baroque Performances
Concerti Grossi, Op. 6
Concerto No. 1 in G Major
October 23, 2021 & October 24, 2021
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
March 14, 2009
Centro de Bellas Artes Luis A. Ferré (Casals Festival), San Juan, Puerto Rico
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2008 & January 1, 2009
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 9, 1992
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 3, 1992
Pine Manor College, Chestnut Hill, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1991
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 1, 1984
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 5, 1982
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 2 in F Major
January 3, 1992
Pine Manor College, Chestnut Hill, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1991
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 3 in e minor
January 3, 1992
Pine Manor College, Chestnut Hill, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1991
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 4 in a minor
January 3, 1992
Pine Manor College, Chestnut Hill, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1991
Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 5 in D Major
December 31, 2015 & January 1, 2016
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Christina Day Martinson, violin
Sarah Darling, violin
Jennifer Morsches, cello
December 10, 1996
Portsmouth Music Hall, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 3, 1992
Pine Manor College, Chestnut Hill, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 1, 1992
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 26, 1990
University of New Hampshire, Durham, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
November 16, 1990
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 6 in g minor
January 1, 1995
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 3, 1992
Pine Manor College, Chestnut Hill, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 1, 1992
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 7 in Bb Major
December 31, 2004 & January 1, 2005
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
March 13, 1999
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 8 in c minor
No performances
Concerto No. 9 in F Major
December 31, 1997 & January 1, 1998
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 10 in d minor
No performances
Concerto No. 11 in A Major
December 31, 2006 & January 1, 2007
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 6, 2001
Portsmouth Music Hall, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2000 & January 1, 2001
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto No. 12 in b minor
December 31, 2006 & January 1, 2007
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Music for the Royal Fireworks
Oboes 1, 2, 3; horns 1, 2, 3; trumpets 1, 2, 3; timpani; strings; continuo
Ouverture
Bourée
La Paix
La Réjouissance
Menuets I & II
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
George II, the last British monarch to lead his troops into battle, took a special interest in the military conduct of the war, and when the War of the Austrian Succession came to an end in 1748, he also took a personal interest in celebrating the peace. The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, which was signed in October of that year, inspired the most spectacular and widespread fireworks celebrations Europe had ever seen. For the London celebration, the king imported the Chevalier Servandoni to design a fireworks display, and he commissioned Handel, then 64 years old and at the height of his popularity, to compose the music.
Servandoni, was well known for his design work at the Paris Opera and for the spectacular scenic machinery he created for royal wedding celebrations on the continent. For this commission, he now designed a fireworks "machine" 114 feet high and 410 feet long, which, according to the official printed program, was "adorned with Frets, Gilding, Lustres, Artificial Flowers, Inscriptions, Statues, Allegorical Pictures, etc." It took five months to build. Also brought in for the occasion was a team of Italian pyrotechnicians who were to operate the huge - and hugely expensive - fireworks display. (The rockets alone numbered more than 10,000.)
For this grand occasion, Handel originally planned music for a traditional orchestra of strings, winds and percussion; but the king, who was personally supervising the preparations, insisted instead on a very large ensemble of only "war-like instruments" -- i. e. an orchestra without strings. The Duke of Montague, charged with overseeing the music for the event, became the unhappy intermediary in the musical stand-off between Handel and the king. In the duke's correspondence, we find the composer intent on including strings and on reducing the desired number of winds -- and we see Handel acceding to the king's wishes only at the last moment.
On April 21, 1749, there was an open rehearsal of Handel's new work in Vauxhall Gardens, and, according to varying descriptions, between 50 and 100 wind and percussion instruments participated. Public interest in this grandest -- and, as it turned out, last -- of Handel's orchestral works was enormous. The rehearsal reportedly drew an audience of 12,000 and created a traffic jam that tied up London Bridge for hours.
The actual performance took place in Green Park on the evening of April 27. First, Handel's "grand overture of warlike instruments" was played for the crowd, while the king and his entourage toured Servandoni's machine. Then came the firing of 101 brass cannon alternating, according to accounts, with music. Finally, the fireworks began at 8:30. From this point, things did not go smoothly. Inside the machine, English and Italian technicians argued about safety. There was an explosion, and the north pavilion caught on fire. The fire was brought under control, but, in his frustration, the Chevalier Servandoni drew his sword and had to be disarmed and arrested.
The display, wrote Horace Walpole, "by no means answered the expense, the length of preparation, and the expectation that had been raised." Although the machine was "worth seeing," the fireworks themselves were a mixed affair and "lighted so slowly that scarce anybody had patience to wait for the finishing." At midnight, the display was stopped, with a good deal of the fireworks still unused. Newspapers were sarcastic about the show. Only Handel's music had been a complete success.
The brilliant and lengthy overture forms the bulk of the suite, and it creates the most massive sound, orchestrated with winds in threes, rather than in the more normal pairs. The overture is then followed by a series of smaller movements, some of which (e. g. the Bourrée) are delicately detailed. Perhaps these smaller movements were the music that alternated with the firing of the cannon.
On May 27, a month after the premiere, Handel performed his Fireworks Music more or less as he had originally conceived it. In a performance at the Foundling Hospital, he led an orchestra which included strings and had fewer winds than at the premiere. As with a number of other Handel works, however, it is difficult -- and perhaps unnecessarily limiting -- to fix a definitive orchestration for the Fireworks Music. Since Handel himself performed the work both with and without strings, as well as with ensembles of different sizes, the modern performer is faced with questions and choices about instrumentation.
In the only surviving autograph manuscript -- the version which includes strings -- Handel lists both contrabassoon and serpent to reinforce the bass line. But this too is far from a straightforward prescription. Handel had called for a contrabassoon before, but the 18th-century historian Charles Burney tells us that, for want of a proper reed or an adequate player, the instrument was not used successfully in England until a quarter century after Handel's death. As for the serpent, it too was not yet common in England. According to one contemporary historian, this large wooden wind instrument, covered in leather and named for its sinuous shape, was played for Handel, and he quipped that it could not have been "the serpent that tempted Eve." Nonetheless, he showed interest in it on more than one occasion and listed it as one of the instruments to double the bass line in his Fireworks Music. At some point, however, the word "serpent" was crossed out in the manuscript. We do not know when or why it was crossed out or whether it was used in the earliest performances. Here too Handel might have run into the practical problem of finding a good player, since the serpent in England had been used only occasionally in churches and in the theater and did not join the military bands until later.
All this leaves the modern performer with certain decisions and choices about instrumentation. What is clear, however, is that Handel wanted this music to make a grand effect, and it is in that spirit that one might also consider employing a military field drum, as suggested in one source. One may have been used among the military instruments, although its part is not in the score and would be ad libitum.
Boston Baroque Performances
Music for the Royal Fireworks
October 23, 2021 & October 24, 2021
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2001 & January 1, 2002
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 1999 & January 1, 2000
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 30, 1988
Marina Bay, Quincy, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 7, 1985
Charlestown Navy Yard, Charlestown, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 1, 1984
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 2, 1983
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 5, 1982
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Organ Concerto in F Major, "The Cuckoo and the Nightingale," HWV 295
Larghetto
Allegro
Larghetto
Allegro
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Handel completed his concerto popularly known as "The Cuckoo and the Nightingale" on April 2 of 1739. Two days later, he gave played the solo part in its premiere during a performance of his oratorio Israel in Egypt, which, according to the advertisement, was to be presented "with several Concerto's on the Organ, and particularly a new one."
As with so many of Handel's works, this concerto contains music that appears in other contexts. The first movement is an arrangement of music from one of his trio sonatas (opus 5, no. 6), which had been published earlier that year. The second movement, in a somewhat altered form, turned up later in the same year in one of his concerti grossi (op. 6, no. 9). The concerto's nickname comes from that second movement, in which a little motive sounds like a cuckoo and an episode in G minor has the gentle song of a nightingale. Handel then instructs the organist to improvise a transition into the siciliano third movement. The finale Allegro with which the concerto closes is an arrangement of music from the same trio sonata that he adapted for the first movement.
Boston Baroque Performances
Organ Concerto in F, HWV 295
March 13, 1999
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Peter Sykes, organ
Water Music
Suite in F
2 oboes, bassoon(s), 2 horns, strings, continuo
Ouverture
Adagio e staccato
Allegro-Andante-Allegro
Presto
Air
[Minuet]
Bourée
Hornpipe
[Andante]
Suite in D
2 oboes, bassoon(s), 2 horns, 2 trumpets, strings, continuo
Allegro
[Alla hornpipe]
Minuet
Lentement
[Bourée]
Suite in G
Flute, soprano recorders (flauti piccoli), strings, continuo
[Sarabande]
Presto
Menuets I and II
Country Dance
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
At about 8:00 on the evening of July 19, 1717, according to a contemporary newspaper, King George I "took to the water at Whitehall in an open barge. . . and went up the river towards Chelsea. Many other barges with Persons of Quality attended." An orchestra accompanied the party on a separate barge, playing "the finest Symphonies, composed express for this Occasion, by Mr. Hendel; which his Majesty liked so well, that he caused it to be plaid over three times in going and returning. At Eleven his Majesty went a-shore at Chelsea, where a Supper was prepar'd, and then there was another very fine Consort of Musick, which lasted till 2; after which, his Majesty came again into his Barge, and return'd the same way, the Musick continuing to play till he landed."
It is now generally accepted that what has come down to us as the Water Music -- the autograph manuscript has not survived -- is actually a collection of three suites in different keys and for different combinations of instruments. The suite in G major, featuring flute and recorder with strings, has the lightest texture of the three and would presumably have been performed indoors during the dinner at Chelsea. But the other two suites are outdoor music and call for a larger orchestra, including brasses. The horns in the F major suite make a dramatic -- and historic -- entrance at the beginning of the third movement, this being the first piece in England to introduce horns into the orchestra. As in Bach's first Brandenburg Concerto, written in the same decade, the horns are elevated to full-fledged members of the orchestra and are no longer limited to simply conjuring up images of the hunt. The suite in D major has the most brilliant orchestration of the three, with both trumpets and horns added to the woodwinds and strings.
The water party of 1717 was not the king's first. Two years earlier, there had been another one, and an earlier version of the F major suite -- sometimes called the "Horn Suite" -- may well have come from that occasion. In that earlier version, there are two important and wonderful movements which Handel dropped from the suite and reworked to include trumpets. He then made them the first two movements of the so-called "Trumpet Suite", the suite in D. Curiously, though, these trumpet versions, which are usually considered to be later, are shorter, less developed pieces. The horn versions, however, are popular pieces that can make a brilliant ending to the F major suite. Without them, the suite ends with a slow movement in the relative minor, which acts as a transition to another suite, rather than a true conclusion.
Boston Baroque Performances
Water Music
Water Music Suite in F Major
December 31, 2010 & January 1, 2011
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
December 31, 2001 & January 1, 2002
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 1, 1996
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
January 1, 1990
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 20, 1988
Marina Bay, Quincy, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 7, 1985
Charlestown Navy Yard, Charlestown, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 1, 1984
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 2, 1983
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 5, 1982
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
October 10, 1980
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Water Music Suite in D Major
July 30, 1988
Marina Bay, Quincy, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 2, 1983
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Water Music Suite in G Major
October 23, 2021 & October 24, 2021
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 15, 1987
George’s Island, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 25, 1985
King Ridge, New London, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 2, 1983
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
July 5, 1982
New England Aquarium, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Acis and Galatea
Libretto by John Gay
First performance: Middlesex (London), 1718
Roles:
Galatea, nymph in love with Acis (soprano)
Acis, shepherd in love with Galatea (tenor)
Damon, a shepherd (tenor)
Polyphemus, cyclops in love with Galatea (bass)
Chorus of nymphs and shepherds
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Acis and Galatea is Handel's only dramatic work never to have left the repertoire. During his lifetime, it received more performances (about 70) than any of his other works. Called variously a masque, an oratorio, and an "English pastoral opera" with music "after the Italian manner," its popularity in Handel's time and ever since is not difficult to understand: it has the youthful lightness and freshness that we hear in his earlier Italian works, it is short enough that it can fit different kinds of programs -- and it is in English. It is in fact his earliest dramatic work in English, coming just before a great run of Italian operas and long before his final shift into writing English oratorios.
Handel composed Acis and Galatea in 1718 for a private performance at Cannons in Middlesex, where he was resident composer in the musical establishment of the Earl of Carnarvon, soon to be the Duke of Chandos. The myth of Acis and Galatea was a popular one and had been set to music by a number of composers, as well as by Handel himself, who ten years earlier had written his Italian cantata Aci, Galatea e Polifemo. The libretto is by John Gay, who later wrote The Beggar's Opera, although some lines of Alexander Pope have also been identified in it. The story is comes from John Dryden's English translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, which had been published a year before Handel's setting.
The history of this work after its first performance in 1718 is interesting. In 1732, Handel became angry about an unauthorized production of it in a competing London theater. He responded by writing a completely new version and calling in his "big guns," his Italian opera stars, to perform it for him. He managed to put his competitors out of business, but in the process created a hodgepodge of a work that distorted the original almost beyond recognition. For one thing, it was bilingual: over half of it was in Italian, because the poor English diction of his Italian singers had been severely criticized. He also expanded the number of soloists from four to nine, in order to include a larger stellar cast that the public could not resist. All this he accomplished by mixing together music from his original Acis and Galatea with his earlier Aci, Galatea e Polifemo and some of his other Italian cantatas.
Despite the popular success of this potpourri version, Handel certainly understood its problems. With his competitors out of the way, he decided to revive the work again in 1739, but this time he returned to the original Acis and Galatea and made relatively minor changes. In this second version of the original work, the version that is normally heard today, Handel divided the piece for the first time into two acts, adding the chorus "Happy we" to end the first act. He would also have used a real chorus this time, whereas in 1718, he had more limited musical resources and had soloist soloists sing the choral parts.
The popularity of Acis continued after Handel's death. Nearly thirty years later, Mozart was commissioned to arrange Acis, Messiah, and two other works by Handel in a more contemporary orchestration. In the next century, Mendelssohn did likewise for his own concerts.
Boston Baroque Performances
Acis and Galatea
November 11, 1993
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jayne West, soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Mark Bleeke, tenor
David Evitts, baritone
November 6, 1987
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Jeffrey Thomas, tenor
Matthew Lau, bass
Agrippina
Opera in three acts
Libretto by Vincenzo Grimani
First performance: Teatro San Giovanni Gristostomo, Venice, December 1709
Cast:
Agrippina, wife of the emperor Claudius
Claudius, emperor of Rome
Nerone, the son of Agrippina from previous marriage
Poppea, a Roman lady
Ottone, army commander
Pallas, a freedman
Narcissus, a freedman
Lesbo, servant of Claudius
Juno, the goddess
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
"The audience was so enchanted with [Agrippina], that . . . the theatre at almost every pause, resounded with shouts and acclamations of viva il caro Sassone! [long live the dear Saxon] and other expressions of approbation too extravagant to be mentioned. They were thunderstruck with the grandeur and sublimity of his style: for never had they known till then all the powers of harmony and modulation so closely arrayed, and so forcibly combined."
This account is by Mainwaring, Handel's first biographer, who was born well after the event. Whether or not the audience experienced the "harmony and modulation" in exactly this way, there is no doubt about the resounding success of Handel's second Italian opera. It ran for an extraordinary 27 performances and established the 24-year-old composer's reputation throughout Europe. It was the first huge triumph of his career.
Agrippina was written toward the end of Handel's formative years in Italy, with the first performances taking place in Venice at the theater of San Giovanni Gristostomo during the winter carnival season of 1709-10. The cast included some of the most famous names in opera, including Margherita Durastanti, for whom Handel created the title role and who later went on to sing many of Handel's operas in England. Poppea was sung by the soprano Diamante Maria Scarabelli, whose virtuosic technique inspired Handel to add a virtuosic aria to the opera during its initial run. The role of the hero Otho was written for a woman, Francesca Vanini-Boschi, and the high role of Nero was sung by the castrato Valeriano Pellegrini.
The music of Agrippina has the wonderfully fresh, inventive spirit of Handel's youth, but it is not entirely original. Despite the fact that Handel was still a young man, he recycled many of his own earlier works -- mostly music which had previously been heard only in private salons -- and, in a few instances, he adapted works of other composers. These "borrowed" works became the basis of his overture and all but five of the arias in this opera, but they were extensively rewritten for Agrippina to brilliantly reveal the character of each role. As with Messiah, Handel is said to have composed the entire opera in a mere three weeks, a feat that is astonishing even with the borrowed music.
The libretto is by Cardinal Vincenzo Grimani, whose family owned the theater, and it was written expressly for Handel. That was unusual, since, for most of his other operas, Handel turned to libretti which had already been set to music by other composers. The characters in this opera, with the exception of Lesbo, are all historical, although Grimani takes liberties with his chronology. Their story derives from the accounts by Tacitus and Suetonius, but here they are treated with a lighter -- and sometimes more comical -- touch than the characters in the ancient sources, or indeed than the characters in most of Handel's later operas. Agrippina, the mother of Nero and wife of Claudius, schemes to place her son on the throne while navigating the tangled relationships of Nero, Poppea and Otho. The story has its sequel in the much earlier Monteverdi opera The Coronation of Poppea, which follows the vicissitudes of these last three characters.
Handel's success with Agrippina changed the course of his life. Among the dignitaries in the audience were Baron Kielmansegge of Hanover and Prince Ernst, the brother of the Elector of Hanover, both of whom went repeatedly to hear the new opera. Handel was soon offered a position at the court in Hanover and left Italy for Germany. As it happened, Germany would be only a brief stop on his path to London, where the greater part of his career would unfold.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Aria ornamentation is also available for Handel’s Alcina, Amadigi di Gaula, Ariodante, Giulio Cesare, Partenope, Semele, and Serse.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Agrippina
April 24 & 25, 2015
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Susanna Phillips - Agrippina
Kevin Deas - Claudius
David Hansen - Nero
Amanda Forsythe - Poppea
Marie Lenormand - Otho
Douglas Williams - Pallas
Krista River - Narcissus
Mark McSweeney - Lesbo
October 21 & 22, 2005
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Twyla Robinson - Agrippina
Sari Gruber - Poppea
Margaret Lattimore - Otho
Michael Maniaci - Nero
Kevin Deas - Claudius
Sumner Thompson - Pallas
Eudora Brown - Narcissus
Aaron Engebreth - Lesbo
Alcina
Opera in three acts
Anonymous libretto based on Riccardo Broschi's L'isola di Alcina
First performance: Covent Garden, London; April 16, 1735
Cast:
Alcina, sorceress (soprano)
Ruggiero, a knight, fiancé of Bradamante (mezzo)
Morgana, Alcina's sister (soprano)
Bradamante, a knight, fiancée of Ruggiero (alto)
Oronte, Alcina's general (tenor)
Melisso, former tutor and mentor of Ruggiero (bass)
Oberto, boy searching for his father (soprano)
Choruses of courtiers and of Alcina's prisoners
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In 1735, just one year before his opera company collapsed, Handel had his last great success as an opera impresario. Alcina opened at Covent Garden on April 16, 1735, a mere eight days after he completed the score, and it ran till the end of the season in early July for a total of 18 performances. Following the first rehearsal at Handel's house, one of his friends wrote that the opera was "so fine I have not words to describe it . . . While Mr. Handel was playing his part, I could not help thinking him a necromancer in the midst of his own enchantments."
The anonymous libretto, based on Riccardo Broschi's L'isola di Alcina (1728), which was in turn derived from Ariosto's Orlando furioso, has all the popular elements of an opera of the time, including confused relationships, disguises and magic spells. But Handel's setting adds deeper dimensions. Nowhere is this more true than in the character of Alcina herself, a wicked sorceress who comes across as surprisingly vulnerable. In only one aria is she truly in a rage, all the rest being arias of love and desperation.
The diva for whom Handel wrote this complex role was Anna Maria Strada del Pò, who had sung all of his leading soprano roles for the previous six years. The estimable journalist Charles Burney, writing not long afterwards, reported that the public did not like her when she first came to England. "[She] was a singer formed by himself [Handel], and modelled on his own melodies. She came hither a coarse and awkward singer with improvable talents, and he at last polished her into reputation and favour." In the end, she was "equal at least to the finest performer in Europe."
The brighter role of Morgana was taken by Cecilia Young, whose singing, according to Burney " was infinitely superior to that of any other English woman of her time." But the star of the cast was the alto castrato Giovanni Carestini, who sang the role of Ruggiero and who had the "fullest, finest, and deepest counter-tenor that has perhaps ever been heard." Nonetheless, all did not go smoothly between the composer and his star singer. Carestini's role included the aria Verdi prati, which soon became the most famous aria in the opera, being encored at every performance. But the aria was a slow one and perhaps did not give him the opportunity that he wanted to show off his virtuosity, for at first he refused to sing it, claiming that it did not suit his voice. On hearing this, Handel went in a rage to his house and, according to Burney, cried out in his thick German accent, "You toc! don't I know better as your seluf, vaat is pest for you to sing? If you vill not sing all de song vaat I give you, I will not pay you ein stiver." Carestini did sing the aria, but he left the company at the end of the season, leaving Handel without an answer to his rivals, who had engaged the great castrato Farinelli to sing with their company.
The original production of Alcina contained a number of ballets, but they turned into something of a scandal, when the imported French ballerina Marie Sallé shocked the English audiences with her revealing costume. According to the Abbé Prévost, she danced "without skirt, without a dress, in her natural hair, and with no ornament on her head," in other words, wearing only a simple muslin drapery over her bodice and no wig. After being hissed in her final performance of Alcina, she left England, vowing never to perform there again.
With Sallé and her dance company gone, Handel removed the ballet music from the opera. The fact that the ballets were there in the first place appears to have been more of a concession to popular fashion than a requirement of the drama. During the brief period when ballet was popular in London, Handel added it not only to his latest operas but also to some of his earlier ones. Once the fashion passed, he removed the dances.
In the following season, Handel revived Alcina with various changes and cuts. Among other things, there were no ballets; the new castrato who replaced Carestini was a soprano, rather than a mezzo; and the soprano role of Morgana had to be transposed for a new singer who was a mezzo. But even reviving this popular opera, albeit in a less extravagant production, could not save Handel's company from collapsing under a huge deficit at the end of the season. As a result, this wonderful opera with its famous arias went dormant, and it was only toward the end of the twentieth century that it began to be performed with some frequency and to be recognized as one of the composers great works.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Aria ornamentation is also available for Handel’s Agrippina, Amadigi di Gaula, Ariodante, Giulio Cesare, Partenope, Semele, and Serse.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Alcina
October 17 & 18, 2003
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Drew Minter, stage director
Soloists:
Twyla Robinson - Alcina
Margaret Lattimore - Ruggiero
Lauren Skuce - Morgana
Christine Abraham - Bradamante
John Tessier - Oronte
Stephen Salters - Melisso
Amanda Forsythe - Oberto
Amadigi di Gaula
Opera in three acts
Libretto: anonymous
First performance: The King’s Theatre, London, May 25, 1715
Cast, in order of appearance:
Amadigi di Gaula, knight, in love with Oriana (alto)
Dardano, prince of Thrace (alto)
Melissa, sorceress, in love with Amadigi (soprano)
Oriana, daughter of the King of the fortunate isles (soprano)
Orgando, uncle of Oriana (soprano)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Why is Handel's Amadigi di Gaula (Amadis of Gaul) so rarely heard? Written not long after Handel had settled in England, it is a youthful, exuberantly inventive work, full of love, magic and brilliant arias. The great historian Charles Burney, writing later in the century, called it "a production in which there is more invention, variety, and good composition than in any one of the musical dramas of Handel which I have yet carefully and critically examined." Whether it is due to its small cast, the fact that it has only high voices or some other reason, Amadigi is produced much less frequently than most other works of this caliber.
The opera originally opened on May 25, 1715 at the King's Theatre in London in a production that was full of spectacle and magical effects. The Daily Courant warned ticket buyers about all the stage machinery: "whereas there is a great many Scenes and Machines to be mov'd in this Opera, which cannot be done if Persons should stand upon the Stage (where they could not be without Danger), it is therefore hop'd no Body, even the Subscribers, will take it Ill that they must be deny'd Entrance on the Stage."
Amadigi was a triumph and helped cement Handel's reputation with the London public, which still remembered the sensation of his opera Rinaldo written some four years earlier. With these two operas alternating in the repertory, the season was a great success. The king himself attended several performances, and Handel earned enough to be able to invest £500 in the speculative frenzy of the South Sea Company (on which he made a good return on his money before the bubble burst).
Amadigi was brought back in the 1716 season and yet again in the following season, when it was once more in the repertory with Rinaldo. But then it disappeared. Handel never revived it, although he did adapt some of its music for use in later works. Aside from some performances in Germany over the next few seasons, the opera was not heard again for over 200 years.
Handel's unknown librettist -- there are several candidates, but none is certain -- adapted the story of Amadigi from earlier models. Derived originally from a medieval Spanish epic, the subject had been set as an opera by Lully, whose Amadis de Gaule (1684) presented a rather different version of the story from the one in Handel's setting. The immediate source of Handel's libretto was a five-act tragédie-lyrique set to music by the French composer André Destouches. His Amadis de Grèce (1699) replaced the original evil magicians with Melissa, a character out of Ariosto's epic Orlando furioso, and created a story close to the one that Handel used. Destouches's opera was revived at the Paris Opéra only a few years before Handel wrote his own Amadigi.
Here, as in many other works, Handel's music seems less inspired by the magic in the story than by the emotions of his characters. His most inventive musical ideas and unusual orchestrations tend to be reserved for moments of deep despair or great joy, rather than for magical transformations and spells. Amadigi's beautiful soliloquy at the fountain of truth, the extraordinary orchestration of Dardano's lament in Act II, or Melissa's brilliant rage aria at the end of that act tell us a great deal about these characters. Through the music, we develop some sympathy even for the evil sorceress Melissa.
Handel achieves a tremendous range of colors with relatively limited forces. All the voices in this small cast are high voices, but they have different qualities that delineate their characters. While the orchestral score makes beautiful use of the oboes, bassoon and recorders, there are no timpani and there is only a single trumpet. Where we might expect two trumpets, the oboe plays the second part. But what might seem like a limitation (perhaps for financial reasons) becomes, in Handel's hands, an interesting and unusual orchestral effect.
As always, Handel borrows ideas and even whole arias from some of his own earlier music and reuses some of this music in later pieces. One major source of music for Amadigi is his opera Silla, which he had written two years earlier for a private occasion. Since there is no record of that opera ever having been performed, it is not surprising that the young composer might have wanted to salvage and recycle some of the best music from that work. Among the pieces originally written for this opera, we recognize in Amadigi's final aria the music that would soon become the popular hornpipe in the Water Music.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Melissa
#5, "Ah! spietato!"
#12, "Io godo, scherzo, e rido" (4/4 version)
#18, Duet - "Crudel, tu non farai"
#23, "Desterò dall' empia"
#25, "Vanne lungi"
Oriana
#9, "Gioje, venite in sen"
#15, "S'estinto è l'idol mio"
#17, "Ti pentirai, crudel!"
#22, "Affannami" (original version)
#24, "Dolce vita"
#26, Duet - "Cangia al fine"
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Amadigi di Gaula
April 21, 22 & 24, 2022
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Louisa Muller, stage director
Anthony Roth Costanzo, Amadigi
Amanda Forsythe, Melissa
Camille Ortiz, Oriana
Daniela Mack, Dardano
October 16 & 17, 2009
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Paul Peers, stage director
Soloists:
Leah Wool - Amadigi
Ava Pine - Melissa
Mary Wilson - Oriana
Matthew White - Dardano
Thea Lobo - Orgando
Ted Whalen, tenor
Ulysses Thomas, bass
Ariodante
Opera in three acts
Libretto based on Antonio Salvi
First performance: Covent Garden, London; January 8, 1735
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In the summer of 1734, Handel lost his position as director at the King's Theatre in London. Some of his rivals thought that he might be forced to retire, but to their surprise, he quickly signed a deal with the recently opened theater at Covent Garden and began work on another opera. The new venue, as it turned out, not only allowed him to continue his work, but -- for the several years that it was still solvent -- it offered him opportunities that he had not had before. John Rich, the impresario of the theater, was known for elaborate productions, and Handel was offered not only spectacular sets, but also dancers and even a small chorus. Until then, he had generally followed Italian operatic traditions by rarely incorporating dances and by having opera "choruses" sung only by the soloists.
Ariodante premiered in January of 1735. It was Handel's first opera for Covent Garden, but it was not the great success that he hoped for. Although the eighteenth-century historian Charles Burney wrote that it "abounds with beauties and strokes of a great master," one contemporary wrote that it was "sometimes performed to an almost empty Pitt," and, despite its happy ending, Queen Caroline said that it was considered "so pathetic and lugubrious" that everyone "has been saddened by it." It was briefly revived in the following season but without the dances and with a new castrato who, not having had time to learn his arias, replaced them with Italian arias that he happened to know. It was hardly a fair hearing. Not until our own time, beginning with the Handel bicentennial in 1959, did Ariodante begin to receive numerous revivals and become the popular opera that it is today.
Ariodante is one of three Handel operas -- Orlando, Ariodante, and Alcina -- that are based on episodes from Ariosto's great epic Orlando furioso. The story, set in Scotland, is the only one among his operas set in the British isles. A spurned lover undertakes a plot to destroy the reputation of the king's daughter, Ginevra, and thereby puts her life in danger. The story of her downfall and ultimate rescue is told simply and straightforwardly with no subplots or digressions, but, as the libretto tells us, it is "somewhat alter'd, to give the greater Force to the Passions of the Actors, and a more extensive Field of Variety to the Musick." In the original epic, the heroic knight Rinaldo, who is flying around the world on his hippogriff, comes upon the scene just in time to save Ginevra. But with great economy, the opera eliminates his role, leaving it to Ariodante to save her. Another "somewhat alter'd" part of the story concerns Dalinda, Ginevra's maid who unwittingly aids the plot against her. In Ariosto's original, she ultimately retires to Denmark to do penance as a nun, but in the opera, she is absolved and celebrates the happy outcome with her new lover Lurcanio.
The libretto by Antonio Salvi was first set to music by Jacopo Perti decades earlier, during the time of Handel's apprenticeship in Italy, and it is possible that Handel may have heard a performance. In any case, he clearly knew the work, since he used the words to one of the arias in his opera Radamisto, and borrowed some lines from it for a cantata. For his own setting of the opera, Handel -- possibly with a collaborator -- added some new lines of text, shortened a number of the Italian recitatives for his English-speaking audience, and rearranged parts of the story.
The opera is in three acts. Most of the first act is a celebration of the love between Ariodante and Ginevra and anticipates their wedding. The true action of the drama with the unfolding of Polinesso's plot begins only in Act II and builds into Act III. It is there in the darkest moments of the story that we hear Handel's most inspired music, as he reveals the deep emotions of his characters. Ginevra, lighthearted and naïve in Act I, ends the second act with the deeply moving aria, "Il mio crudel martoro" ("My cruel torment"). Also in Act II, her lover Ariodante, thinking himself betrayed, expresses his profound grief in the famous aria "Scherza infida." Here the striking orchestration reflects his anguish, as muted violins and pizzicato basses pulse over wailing long notes in the bassoon. Even the king sings a beautifully poignant aria in Act III, when, in a major key, he says farewell to his daughter.
It has often been pointed out that the central twist in the plot, the deception of the chambermaid who dresses up as her mistress, occurs also in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. However, Shakespeare's immediate source may not have been Ariosto. A similar ruse occurs in Spenser's The Faerie Queen and elsewhere. It seems to have become a popular device for the time.
Handel's singers
When he moved to Covent Garden, a number of Handel's singers and orchestra players, including some of his star attractions, defected to his rivals, whose newly formed Opera of the Nobility had taken over the King's Theatre. However, two of his well known Italian singers remained with him, the great soprano Maria Strada and the contralto Maria Caterina Negri, and for them he wrote the roles of Ginevra and Polinesso in Ariodante. However, some of the other roles were more difficult to cast. In his autograph score, we can see that Dalinda's music was first written for an alto, but then rewritten in a higher tessitura for soprano, and Lurcanio's music was originally meant for a soprano castrato but was converted to a tenor role midway through the manuscript. Having reworked those roles, he hired local English singers, soprano Cecilia Young and tenor John Beard, both of them rising young talents who went on to sing regularly for Handel and build stellar careers. Having lost his main castrato Senesino to his rivals across town, Handel turned to the high mezzo castrato Giovanni Carestini for the title role of Ariodante.
The dances
With Covent Garden importing the choreographer Marie Sallé and her dancers from the Paris Opera, Handel added dances to Ariodante, but they were added late in the process. He finished and dated the first two acts of his autograph without them and then composed a collection of dances from which Mlle. Sallé could choose what she wanted upon her arrival in London. They were thus not as integral to the opera or as tailored to the story as the vocal music. In fact, a few of the dances were never used in Ariodante but were moved to his next opera, Alcina. For the revival of Ariodante in the following year, all the dances were omitted, perhaps because Mlle. Sallé was not in London at the time, but some of them had a second life, reappearing as movements in his trio sonatas.
As for Marie Sallé, she went on to dance in Handel's next opera Alcina, but she shocked the English audiences, when, according to the Abbé Prévost, she danced "without skirt, without a dress, in her natural hair, and with no ornament on her head," in other words, wearing only a simple muslin drapery over her bodice and no wig. After being hissed in her final performance of Alcina, she left England vowing never to perform there again.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Aria ornamentation is also available for Handel’s Agrippina, Alcina, Amadigi di Gaula, Giulio Cesare, Partenope, Semele, and Serse.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Ariodante
April 24, 25, & 27 2025
GBH Calderwood Studio, Brighton, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Eve Summer, director
Camilla Tassi, projections designer
Soloists:
Megan Moore - Ariodante
Amanda Forsythe - Ginevra
Robin Johannsen - Dalinda
Ann McMahon Quintero - Polinesso
Richard Pittsinger - Lurcanio
Brandon Cedel - King of Scotland
Jason McStoots - Odoardo
April 24 & 25, 2020
(Performances canceled due to COVID-19 pandemic)
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Paula Murrihy - Ariodante
Layla Claire - Ginevra
Sonja Tengblad - Dalinda
Ann McMahon Quintero - Polinesso
Rufus Müller - Lurcanio
Matthew Brook - King of Scotland
Jonas Budris - Odoardo
Giulio Cesare in Egitto
Opera in three acts
Libretto by Nicola Francesco Haym
First performance: February 20, 1724, King's Theatre, London
Romans
Giulio Cesare, Julius Caesar (alto)
Cornelia, widow of Pompey (alto)
Sesto, son of Pompey and Cornelia (mezzo)
Curio, Roman tribune (bass)
Egyptians
Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt (soprano)
Tolomeo (Ptolemy), king of Egypt, brother of Cleopatra (alto)
Achilla, Egyptian general (bass)
Nireno, confidante of Cleopatra and Tolomeo (alto)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Giulio Cesare in Egitto (Julius Caesar in Egypt) was the only opera that Handel composed for the 1723-24 season of his Royal Academy, but it was a huge work and a masterpiece. Coming on the heels of his popular Ottone from the previous season, it cemented the 38-year-old composer's reputation as the leading opera composer in England. The production ran for an impressive thirteen performances and was then revived (with revisions) in the following season and again in 1730 and 1732. It was soon performed elsewhere in Europe and, particularly in Germany, became Handel's most popular opera.
Handel had a stellar cast for the premiere, one which included several celebrated singers with whom he had worked a great deal. But it was a cast which was perhaps not the easiest to work with. The alto castrato Senesino, who sang the title role, was renowned as a brilliant singer but also had a reputation as a vain and arrogant man. He had earlier fought with Handel, who called him "a damned fool," although Handel continued to write great roles for him until their final falling out in 1733. During a public rehearsal, Senesino insulted Anastasia Robinson, who was singing the role of Cornelia, for which, according to one account, her lover Lord Peterborough caned him behind the scenes.
Cleopatra was sung by Francesca Cuzzoni, another singer for whom Handel wrote a great deal of music. She was universally praised as a wonderful artist and a technically brilliant singer, but she too could be difficult. Her infamous rivalry with the soprano Faustina Bordoni led to a fight between the two divas during a performance; and, after she refused to sing one of Handel's arias for his opera Ottone, he threatened to throw her out of a window. (She sang the aria, and it made her famous.)
Handel's librettist was Nicola Francesco Haym, an Italian musician and impresario then living in London, who supplied him with a number of opera libretti both before and after Giulio Cesare. For his story, Haym turned to events that took place in the years 48-47 B.C., during Julius Caesar's campaign against Pompey in Egypt. As the opera tells us, Pompey was assassinated by his enemies, and Caesar established Cleopatra on the throne against the rival claims of her brother Ptolemy. Caesar stayed in Egypt with Cleopatra for a time, and she gave birth to a son, whom she said was fathered by Caesar. But while this general background and the characters themselves (aside from Nireno) are historical, the details of Haym's story are fictional. His main source was a libretto written nearly fifty years earlier for an opera by Sartori. In adapting it, Haym reduced the number of arias, since arias in Handel's time were generally more expansive than those written in the previous century, and an opera simply could not accommodate as many of them. Recitatives too were shortened, a practice that was not uncommon in countries where audiences did not speak Italian.
Musically, Giulio Cesare is an inspired work with more than the usual number of famous arias and with remarkably vivid characterizations. Caesar's great arias show us the heroic soldier on the battlefield, the lover at Cleopatra's court, and the reflective man at Pompey's tomb. Every character is treated with subtlety and given a wide range of emotions, but the most remarkable depiction is that of Cleopatra, who begins early in the opera with light, dance-like, flirtatious music but descends to the depths of despair in her profound lament Se pietà and in the aria Piangerò. And it is for Cleopatra that Handel creates the most magical orchestration in the opera. At the beginning of Act II, the queen, in disguise, seduces Caesar by conjuring up the image of the nine muses on Parnassus. Like a halo around her is the sound of nine solo instruments: an oboe and solo strings together with the exotic sounds of a baroque harp, viola da gamba, theorbo and bassoon; this large solo group is occasionally joined by muted strings of the orchestra. It is an unusual sonority, which gives the scene a kind of oriental perfume and creates one of the most memorable moments in any Handel opera.
In this aria and elsewhere, Handel's orchestration for Giulio Cesare is as expansive as the opera itself. Three times he calls for four horns. Even today they make an impressive effect, but in 1724 the horn was still relatively new to the orchestra -- Handel having been one of the first to use it for music other than hunting scenes -- and the effect of four horns together must have been astonishing. He also gives a major solo to a horn in Caesar's famous aria about the stealthy hunter, Va tacito e nascosto, using the traditional association of the horn with the hunt, but going well beyond mere hunting calls. It is the only horn solo in any of Handel's operas.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Achilla
#20, "Se a me non sei crudele"
Cesare
#3, "Empio, dirò, tu sei"
#9, "Non è si vago e bello"
#14, "Va tacito e nascosto"
#25, "Al lampo dell' armi"
#39, Duo, "Più amabile beltà"
Cleopatra
#6, "Non disperar"
#10, "Tutto può donna vezzosa"
#17, "V'adoro, pupille"
#27, "Se pietà"
#32, "Piangerò"
#37, "Da tempeste"
#39, Duo, "Più amabile beltà"
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Giulio Cesare
April 21 & 23, 2017
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Susanna Phillips - Cleopatra
Lawrence Zazzo - Cesare
John Holiday - Tolomeo
Ann McMahon Quintero - Cornelia
Jennifer Rivera - Sesto
David McFerrin - Achilles
Douglas Dodson - Nireno
Jacob Cooper - Curio
October 22 & 23, 2004
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Lisa Saffer - Cleopatra
David Walker - Cesare
Deanne Meek - Sesto
Ryland Angel - Tolomeo
Jane Gilbert - Cornelia
Stephen Salters - Achilles
Sumner Thompson - Nireno
Jason Abram - Curio
Partenope
Opera in three acts
Libretto by Silvio Stampiglia
First performance: King's Theatre, London; February 24, 1730
Roles:
Partenope, queen of Naples (soprano)
Arsace, prince of Corinth (alto)
Armindo, prince of Rhodes (alto)
Emilio, prince of Cumae (tenor)
Rosmira (alto)
Ormonte, captain of Partenope's guard (bass)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Handel's Partenope is not frequently heard today. Yet it is a brilliant work, much admired by those who know it. Like the best of Handel, it has an astonishing range of human emotions, virtuosic music for singers, and beautiful orchestral writing, and its libretto is one that some modern writers consider one of the best that Handel set to music. It is a comic opera, something relatively rare in Handel's output and his first one for London audiences.
The libretto was written in 1699, decades before Handel adapted it, and it was extremely popular. Altogether, it was set thirty-six times in the first part of the eighteenth century, of which twenty-three settings -- including one by Vivaldi -- were written before Handel's. Silvio Stampiglia originally wrote his libretto for a production in Naples and, although the story is entirely his invention, he chose as his heroine the mythological founder of Naples, the siren Partenope.
Stampiglia's mix of comedy with more serious drama was different from the more "elevated" opera seria produced by many of his colleagues, and for that reason, it was both popular and criticised. Handel himself was clearly attracted to it and inspired by it. In all probability, he had heard it in Caldara's setting many years earlier, during his youthful sojourn in Italy. But, when he first proposed the project to the Royal Academy of Music in 1726, it was rejected as being too frivolous. This was a company that was committed to producing opera seria, and, for one of its agents, the thought that Partenope might actually be produced
put me in a Sweat . . . for it is the very worst book (excepting one) that I ever read in my whole life: Signor Stampiglia (the author of it) endeavours to be humourous and witty in it: If he succeeded in his attempt, on any stage in Italy, 'twas, meerly, from a depravity of Taste in the audience -- but I am very sure that 'twill be received with contempt in England.
Nonetheless, Handel returned to this project three years later, after he had assumed more control of the company, and had the libretto adapted for his use by an unknown collaborator. For the most part, he used the version that Caldara had set in 1708. His greatest alterations to the libretto came at the ends of the acts, where he created stronger finales.
Handel completed his score a mere two weeks before the premiere, which took place at the King's Theatre in London on February 24, 1730. We do not know what kind of reception Partenope received, but we do know that it was performed only seven times. However, it was revived in the following season for an additional seven performances. The only other revival during Handel's lifetime was in 1737, when it ran for four nights.
A year before writing Partenope, Handel had gone to Italy to find singers for his company. Among others, he signed the soprano Anna Strada, who would become his new leading lady and who would sing a great many of his most important roles. It was for her that he wrote the brilliant title role of Partenope, a role which showed off Strada's high notes and fast coloratura, a role which is not only virtuosic but also has a whimsical and seductive side. Perhaps it was to showcase Anna Strada that this opera has only a single high voice. Most of the roles are in the middle range -- contralto, two male alto parts and a tenor -- with a smaller role for a bass. But those roles too are virtuosic and take their characters through a broad range of emotions.
As with so many works of Handel, there are multiple versions of arias and a variety of different cuts, alterations and additions even within the autograph manuscript. There is no single, definitive version, although we can get a reasonably good idea of what music was included in the original production. The serious, forceful overture has struck a few writers as being somewhat different in character from the rest of the opera, and it does appear to be physically added onto the manuscript volume and not originally a part of it. Perhaps it was first written for another occasion but put to use here, when Handel was under pressure to complete his score. That would not have been unusual. Handel often adapted his earlier music and even music of other composers for inclusion in new works, and Partenope is no exception.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Aria ornamentation is also available for Handel’s Agrippina, Alcina, Amadigi di Gaula, Ariodante, Giulio Cesare, Semele, and Serse.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Partenope
October 19 & 20, 2012
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
David Gately, stage director
Soloists:
Amanda Forsythe - Partenope
Owen Willetts - Arsace
Kirsten Sollek - Rosmira
David Trudgen - Armindo
Aaron Sheehan - Emilio
Andrew Garland - Oromonte
Semele
Opera in three parts,
presented "after the manner of an oratorio"
Libretto (in English) by William Congreve
First performance: Covent Garden, London; February 10, 1744
Roles:
Semele, daughter of Cadmus (soprano)
Jupiter (tenor)
Cadmus, king of Thebes (bass)
Athamas, prince of Boeotia, fiancé of Semele (alto)
Ino, sister of Semele, in love with Athamas (mezzo)
Juno (mezzo)
Iris, goddessh elping Juno (soprano)
High priest (bass)
Somnus, god of sleep (bass)
Apollo (tenor)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Early in 1744, Handel announced the premiere of Semele, a new work "after the manner of an oratorio." It was indeed performed like an oratorio, that is, without sets or costumes and with soloists, chorus and orchestra placed on the stage as in a concert, but early on, many people recognized that Semele was very much like an opera in disguise. The drama resembled Handel's earlier Italian operas, focusing as it did on the tragedy played out by its characters, more than on the commentary of the chorus. Indeed William Congreve's libretto, from which Handel's was adapted, had originally been written decades earlier to be set as an opera by John Eccles (an opera which was never performed until the late twentieth century). Although the libretto was in English like the oratorios that Handel was currently writing, it made extensive use of the conventions of Italian opera, conventions such as da capo forms (A-B-A) for the majority of its arias, as well as a good deal of dramatic recitative.
In part, presenting Semele "after the manner of an oratorio" was a business decision for Handel, who infuriated his competitors in the opera world by producing what was essentially an opera without any of the costs of sets or costumes. But the production proved controversial with the London public, as well. While it was a success with many listeners, many others, who had become accustomed to biblical subjects in their oratorios, found the story of Semele's passion for a god to be too licentious for the genre. Dr. Delany, a clergyman, refused to attend -- although his wife went to every performance. Charles Jennens, the librettist of Messiah and of several other Handel oratorios, sneered at the composer's attempt to pass off Semele as an oratorio, calling it "a bawdy opera." Later, the Victorian age did its best to tone down what some considered suggestive language in Congreve's libretto, excising, for example, the word "bed."
The story of Semele is the story of the birth of the god Bacchus, a god perhaps best known today for introducing the pleasures of wine but also associated with ecstasy, frenzy and madness. Semele, a princess of Thebes, is beloved by Jupiter and, to her ruin, is infatuated by his attentions. Juno, always jealous of her wandering husband, appears to Semele in disguise and convinces her that she deserves to see her lover not only in his human guise but in his true divine form. Jupiter tries to dissuade her, but Semele pressures him to grant her wish. Accordingly, he appears to her in thunder and lightning, and she is consumed. From the flames, Jupiter snatches the baby that Semele is carrying and (though not told in this libretto) sews it up inside his thigh to mature, later to be born as the god Bacchus.
Imagine a modern composer -- or, for that matter, Wagner or even Monteverdi -- being handed such a story: the birth of the orgiastic god Bacchus, Semele as the mother of madness and intoxication, her ecstatic love for Jupiter, her immolation. For all this we might expect a fiery, passionate treatment. But the tone of Handel's Semele is rather different. The music is extraordinarily beautiful and contains some of Handel's most famous arias, but it is not music of abandon and madness. Semele's great aria and chorus, "Endless pleasure, endless love," for example, is not a bacchanal at the Venusberg but, of all things, a gavotte, a beautiful and joyous dance to be sure, but one that is more courtly than passionate. And her immolation occurs during a relatively brief accompanied recitative.
The drama is well served by such conventions, though, because Semele's ecstasy and the Dionysian madness that might attract writers of another era are not the focus for Handel and his eighteenth-century audience. Indeed, the birth of Bacchus is treated here almost as an afterthought. It is announced at the very end of the opera by the serene Apollo, and it leads to a happy finale.
For Handel the real focus is on Semele's inappropriate love. She attempts to rise above her place in the order of things and mix with the gods, and in so doing she brings about her own demise. The myth of Semele is one of many in which mortals go beyond the set boundaries and are consumed by a divine fire. This is a lesson about order, both in nature and society--the very opposite of what we might expect today from a Bacchus myth! It tells us that deceptions and artifice are necessary to maintain an orderly society, that there are dangers in stripping away all illusions. Semele should have been content with Jupiter as she knew him and should not have demanded to see to his innermost being.
Like so many dramas of the time, this one offers a reflection of an idealized society. It shows an ordered world from which the real world of the eighteenth century could draw a lesson. It made for a popular form of theater that is quite different from the more realistic mirror that a modern drama might hold up to society, a mirror in which we might find less certain moral lessons. But this "idealizing" opera has nothing fussy or academic about it. It has glorious, moving and theatrical music, a broad dramatic sweep, and vividly drawn characters ranging from the comical god of sleep to jealous Juno to the tragic Semele.
For his own performances of Semele, Handel had an experienced cast of singers who had performed with him many times. The brilliant title role was written for Elisabeth Duparc (called La Francesina), who, the eighteenth-century historian Dr. Burney tells us, was known for her "lark-like execution" and "natural warble, and agility of voice, which Handel afterwards seems to have had great pleasure in displaying." Burney's description comes vividly to life when we hear the trills and other ornaments which Handel wrote into Semele's arias, "Myself I shall adore" and "The morning lark."
The first Jupiter, John Beard, had sung with Handel since the age of 15 and performed more of Handel's music than any other singer, including tenor parts in the oratorios and odes, as well as in many operas. He was known to be an expressive actor, and it was for his fine voice that Handel wrote the work's most famous aria, "Where'er you walk." But given the drama's warning about Semele's attempt to mix with the gods, it is ironic that this original Jupiter had created a real-life scandal in London by marrying above his station.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Aria ornamentation is also available for Handel’s Agrippina, Alcina, Amadigi di Gaula, Ariodante, Giulio Cesare, Partenope, and Serse.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Semele
February 1, 3, & 5, 2008
Cutler Majestic Theatre, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Sam Helfrich, stage director
In collaboration with Opera Boston
Soloists:
Lisa Saffer - Semele
Margaret Lattimore - Juno
Amanda Forsythe - Iris
Paula Murrihy - Ino
Scott Ramsey - Jupiter
David Kravitz - Cadmus & Somnus
Tai Oney - Athamas
Ulysses Thomas - High Priest
Brent Wilson - Apollo
Serse (Xerxes)
Opera in three acts
Libretto adapted from one by Silvio Stampiglia
First performance: The King's Theatre, London; April 15, 1738
Cast, in order of appearance:
Serse (Xerxes), king of Persia (mezzo-soprano)
Arsamene, brother of Xerxes, lover of Romilda (alto)
Elviro, servant of Arsamene( baritone)
Romilda, daughter of Ariodate (soprano)
Atalanta, sister of Romilda (soprano)
Amastre, princess betrothed to Serse (alto)
Ariodate, prince, captain of the army, father of Romilda and Atalanta (bass)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Handel's opera scores tell us a good deal about the way in which he worked. In them, he would note the date on which he began composing an opera and the dates on which he finished sketching each of the acts. Then, once all the acts were sketched, he would go back and fill in the orchestration and other details, adding the date when the opera was "completely finished" ("völlig geendiget"). Thus we know that he completed his opera Faramondo on Christmas Eve of 1737 and then rested for just one day over the holiday before beginning work on Serse on December 26. From that point, it took him about two weeks to sketch each of the three acts, and he had the entire opera completely finished by February 14, 1738.
As fast as this may seem for writing an opera, it was on the slow side for Handel. He appears to have taken extraordinary care in shaping this work. The autograph is full of corrections, reworkings and cuts, many of them aimed at compressing the drama and moving it forward. There being no author's name on the libretto, Handel himself may well have adapted it for his own use, adjusting it as needed while composing the music.
The original version of the libretto had been written nearly a century earlier for Cavalli's opera Xerse. Then in 1694, it was adapted by Silvio Stampiglia for a setting by Bononcini. Handel based his libretto on the one used by Bononcini, although he shortened it considerably. He omitted minor characters, removed a few complicated subplots, cut a number of arias, and reduced some of the other arias to brief ariosos -- all of this in order to tighten the drama, even if it meant that a character's motivation might be less fully explained. It is fascinating to see that Handel sometimes borrowed musical ideas from Bononcini's settings of particular arias. While he was well known for borrowing from other composers (and from his own music), he did not ordinarily borrow from someone else's setting of the very text that he was working on. It makes one wonder whether he had Bononcini's opera in front of him, as he adapted both the libretto and occasional musical ideas to his own purposes.
The story of the opera takes place in the fifth century B. C. E. and is loosely based on incidents recounted by the Greek historian Herodotus. The Persian king Xerxes (the biblical Ahasuerus) is in the midst of his war against the Greeks, while at home, he becomes infatuated with the wife of his brother Arsamenes, thereby enraging his own wife Amestris with his infidelity. The full story, according to Herodotus, is much uglier and bloodier than the one that Handel tells, but the main characters are historical. The libretto also incorporates a few details from the military campaign against the Greeks: the bridge across the Hellespont, which the Persians constructed of boats tied together, was indeed initially destroyed by winds; and the opera opens with Xerxes admiring a majestic plane tree, which, it is said, he came across on his campaign and so admired that he decorated it with gold and wrote an ode to it.
Serse received its premiere on April 15, 1738 at the King's Theatre in London. The title role was sung by the alto castrato Caffarelli, but the role of Arsamene, Serse's brother, was written for a woman, Maria Marchesini. Initially, the opera was not a great success. It ran for only five performances and then was not heard again until the twentieth century. One account from the time tells us that the performances of both the cast and the orchestra were weak, but some of the problems lay elsewhere. Being one of Handel's last operas, Serse was written at a time when the British love affair with Italian opera was waning, and Handel was beginning to turn toward writing oratorios in English. Perhaps it was this change of style that led him to write far fewer standard da capo arias and employ more flexible, fluid forms in Serse than was typical of Italian operas of the time. Some of his contemporaries found this confusing. One listener wrote that, although he admired the opera, the music ran so fluidly together, sometimes without recitatives separating the arias, that "tis difficult to understand till it comes by frequent hearing to be well known."
Today Serse is one of Handel's most popular operas and has come to be considered one of his finest. The dramatic fluidity that surprised his own audience now seems refreshing and effective, and the music is unquestionably of the highest level. Serse's brief aria Ombra mai fu, which opens the opera has become one of the most famous moments in all of Handel. Popularly known as "Handel's Largo," it has been excerpted in recordings all the way back to Caruso and beyond (including John Philip Sousa's band arrangement of 1902). But there is other equally fine music throughout the opera, and the delineation of the various characters -- including the rare (for Handel) buffo character of Elviro -- shows the composer at one of his creative peaks. It is a surge of creative energy that could not be suppressed by the failure of this great opera and that would continue some months later, as he began work on his oratorio Saul.
Vocal Ornamentation by Martin Pearlman
Click on the aria titles below to download or view a PDF of the vocal ornamentation by Martin Pearlman. The arias are organized by opera character.
Aria ornamentation is also available for Handel’s Agrippina, Alcina, Amadigi di Gaula, Ariodante, Giulio Cesare, Partenope, and Semele.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Serse
October 24 & 25, 2008
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Paul Peers, stage director
Soloists:
Michael Maniaci - Serse
Ava Pine - Romilda
Amanda Forsythe - Atalanta
Marie Lenormand - Arsamenes
Leah Wool - Amastre
Mark Schnaible - Ariodate
Michael Scarcelle - Elviro
Silete venti
Symphonia: Silete venti
Aria: Dulcis amor, Jesu care
Recitative: O fortunata anima
Aria: Date serta, date flores
Presto: Alleluia
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Handel famously liked to borrow and adapt music from his own earlier works to use in some of his new compositions. Among the richest sources for his borrowings were pieces that he had written during his early apprentice years in Italy: more than 100 Italian cantatas, as well as Latin religious works. Not only do ideas from a few of these works turn up in his motet Silete, venti, but fragments from that motet were further recycled in several even later works.
Silete, venti is one of Handel's most substantial and elaborate Latin motets, but exactly when it was written has been much debated. Its musical style suggests that it is a later, more mature work than the composer's youthful music from Italy. The handwriting in the manuscript and the type of paper used have suggested to scholars that it probably comes from the 1720s, well after Handel was established in England. But why would he then have written a Latin motet of the type that was popular in Italy? He did visit Italy in 1729, but it could also have been written in England for a visiting Italian singer or patron.
The work has an unusual beginning. It starts with a typical French overture, in which a stately opening section is followed by a faster, more contrapuntal music -- but the flurry of fast notes in the orchestra is suddenly interrupted by the soprano soloist, who orders the swirling winds to be silent. The music immediately calms down and settles into a beautiful accompanied recitative. There follow two substantial arias, and the work ends with a brilliant Alleluia, such as one hears in Vivaldi, in Mozart's Exsultate, jubilate and in other motets written for Italian singers.
Jephtha, HWV 70
Libretto by Thomas Morell
First performance: Covent Garden, London, February 26, 1752
Cast:
Jephtha (tenor)
Iphis, Jephtha's daughter (soprano)
Hamor, Iphis's fiancé (countertenor)
Zebel, Jephtha's half-brother (bass)
Storgè, Jephtha's wife (mezzo)
Angel (soprano)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Handel's last oratorio -- and last major work -- sets the biblical story of Jephtha from the book of Judges. Before leading the Israelites into battle, Jephtha makes a vow to God that, if he is victorious, he will sacrifice the first living creature that he sees on returning to his fields. As he returns in triumph, his daughter, his only child, runs out to greet him and becomes that "creature" that he has vowed to sacrifice.
It is a wrenching drama, as well as a work that comes from a devastating time in the composer's life. Handel began work on this great oratorio on January 21 of 1751 but, after several weeks, his eyesight was failing, and, in the midst of writing the celebrated chorus, "How dark, o Lord, are Thy decrees," he penned a poignant note in the score: "Reached here on 13 Febr. 1751, unable to go on owing to weakening of the sight of my left eye." He saw doctors and visited watering places at Bath and Cheltenham for his health and by mid-June felt well enough to resume work, but he struggled. His writing in the autograph score is shaky, and he eventually went competely blind in his left eye. On completing the score, he wrote the date, August 30, as was his custom, but, perhaps because of his failing health, he added "age 66."
The premiere of Jephtha took place at Covent Garden on February 26 of the following year. Despite being now blind in one eye and gradually losing the sight in his other eye, Handel was able to conduct the performance. The work was a success and was repeated twice that season. It was then revived, with some alteration, in three more seasons during Handel's lifetime.
In the seven years that remained to him, the blind master is said to have still played organ concertos during performances of his oratorios, but he no longer directed the ensemble. Charles Burney reported that he was "always much disturbed and agitated" during the aria "Total eclipse" in Samson, in which the hero has gone blind:
"The recollection that Handel had set this air to music, with the view of the blind composer then sitting by the organ, affected the audience so forcibly, that many persons present were moved even to tears."
He composed little during these last years, the few "new" works that derived from this time being largely assembled by others from his earlier music.
The libretto for Jephtha was written by Thomas Morell, who had provided Handel with libretti for several of his previous oratorios. Morell took some freedoms with the biblical story. He adapted some of his material from an earlier Jephtha oratorio by Maurice Greene, added the characters of Hamor and Jephtha's wife Storgè, and inserted lines by Milton, Pope, Addison and others within his own text. Most significantly, though, he altered the ending. In the original story, Jephtha's daughter (unnamed in the bible) goes for two months to the mountains to mourn her fate and then returns to be sacrificed and lamented. But Morell gives it a more Christian bent: an angel descends to announce that Iphis is to live "dedicated to God in pure and virgin state forever." The tragedy of the Old Testament story is thus turned into joyous praise of a merciful God.
Handel's last two oratorios, Theodora and Jephtha, are both deeply religious works dealing with life and death, but it seems here as if the composer's focus is somewhat different from that of his librettist. Handel does not make as much of the angel's intervention and the happy ending as one might expect. It is a scene that some writers have felt is anticlimactic and weakens the drama, and indeed, it does not appear to have been part of Handel's original conception but a scene that he added afterwards. Nor does he make a musical highlight of Jephtha's rash vow that sets the drama in motion. Rather, he focuses on the human suffering caused by the vow. His characterizations are vivid. Through the music, Jephtha evolves from brash warrior to horrified father to a man who humbly accepts fate; his daughter's childlike innocence evolves into stoic acceptance; and the horror and rage of Jephtha's wife Storgè are palpable. In a brilliant quartet near the end of Act II ("O spare your daughter"), each character expresses different thoughts about the impending catastrophe.
The inevitability of fate is also a focus. The chorus, which is only occasionally an actor in the drama, is more often a spectator, and, like a Greek chorus, it comments poignantly on the action and states the moral themes. This happens most memorably in the chorus that ends Act II. Here Handel appears to have changed Morell's "What God ordains is right" to Alexander Pope's more powerful statement, "Whatever is, is right." One cannot help recalling that this chorus, which begins "How dark, o Lord, are Thy decrees," was the one during which Handel had to lay down his pen because of his growing blindness.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Jephtha
March 8 & 10, 2019
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nicholas Phan - Jephtha
Ava Pine - Iphis
Ann Quintero - Storgè
Randall McMahon Scotting - Hamor
Dashon Burton - Zebel
Sonja Tenglad - Angel
L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato
English oratorio in three parts
Words adapted by Charles Jennens from John Milton
First performance: London, February 27, 1740
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
At the time that Handel composed L'Allegro, il Penseroso, ed il Moderato, in the beginning of the year 1740, London was in the grip of one of the worst cold spells in its history. The Thames was frozen over and the public theaters were closed for two months. To promote the premiere on February 27, the London Daily Post announced, "Particular care is taken to have the House secur'd against the Cold, constant Fires being order'd to be kept in the House 'till the Time of Performance."
The concert was a great success, and Handel subsequently performed the work many times. The success of L'Allegro was especially important for him, coming, as it did, after his low fortunes of the past several years. His opera company had collapsed, many of his recent works had failed, and he himself had suffered a stroke.
During the late 1730's and early 1740's, Handel gradually turned from Italian opera, which was losing popularity, toward the kind of oratorio for which he was known in his later years. L'Allegro, belonging to this transitional time, is not an easy work to classify, and Handel himself never referred to it as an oratorio, an ode, a serenade, a mask, or any other type of work. It is perhaps its uniqueness, the fact that it is not one of the operas or one of the oratorios, that accounts in part for why the work is not better known today, that as well as the fact that it makes too little use of the chorus to find its way into the normal repertoire of choral societies -- and that its Italian title disguises the fact that it is in English.
L'Allegro is, however, one of Handel's most consistently inspired and inventive works, and his orchestration is unusually colorful. There are important solos for a wide range of instruments: flute, horn, bells, cello, oboe, bassoon, organ; there is a continuo aria, and even the string writing has more varied coloration than in many of his works. No doubt all this was inspired in part by the imagery in the poetry, as are the wonderful depictions of the cricket on the hearth, the hunt, the warbling bird, "the busy hum of men," the tongue-in-cheek portrayal of Shakespeare and Ben Jonson, and many other images. The most famous characterization is perhaps that of "Laughter ho-ho-holding both his sides." The late eighteenth-century tenor, Michael Kelly, described his own performance of that aria: "I laughed all the way through it, as I conceived it ought to be sung, and as must have been the intention of the composer: the infection ran; and their Majesties, and the whole audience, as well as the orchestra, were in a roar of laughter, and a signal was given from the royal box to repeat it, and I sang it again with increased effect."
The libretto
The texts of Parts I and II are based on the two delightful companion poems L'Allegro and Il Penseroso written in the previous century by the 22-year-old John Milton. The first of these poems depicts the joys of the active or extroverted life, the second the joys of the contemplative or introverted life. Milton's poems were adapted for Handel's use by Charles Jennens, the librettist who also supplied Handel with texts for Messiah, Saul, and other works. Although Jennens' reputation has suffered because of his ostentatious lifestyle and his high opinion of himself, there is no denying that his librettos were well worked out and inspiring to Handel. For Messiah, written in 1741, Jennens was to select and arrange biblical quotations. Similarly, in L'Allegro and Il Penseroso, he selected and arranged lines from Milton's poems (omitting about a third of the total number of lines) that he felt to be best suited to a musical setting. Rather than keep the two poems as separate companion pieces, he alternated sections from each of them, so that Parts I and II of the oratorio contain elements of both L'Allegro and Il Penseroso, thus allowing for more frequent changes of character in the music.
While for the most part, Jennens limited himself to omitting some of Milton's lines and interspersing sections from the two poems, he did occasionally change the poetry. The original line, ''Towered cities please us then," was altered to the more prosaic "Populous cities please us then." Some changes are even greater:
But, first and chiefest, with thee bring
Him that yon soars on golden wing,
Guiding the fiery wheeled throne,
The Cherub Contemplation.
These lines of Milton are condensed in Jennens' libretto to:
First and chief on gold wing,
The cherub Contemplation bring.
But then Jennens did something which he did not dare to do with the biblical text of Messiah. He added after Milton's poetry a final section of his own, which he called Il Moderato to represent the rational golden mean between L'Allegro and Il Penseroso. But Jennens' poetry was, of course, insubstantial next to the genius of Milton's, and, to his chagrin, some wags in the audience dubbed his portion of the work Il Moderatissimo.
Unfortunately, the music to Il Moderato has sometimes been ignored because of the less inspired poetry. Handel did later omit that section of his oratorio from his performances, but the miracle of this short third part of the work is that, despite the poetry and despite the difficulty of making Moderation interesting, Handel's setting remains on the high level of the first two parts. The chorus, "All this company serene," is certainly on the level of the best choruses in the first two parts; and in the aria, "Each action will derive new grace," the angular displaced bar lines at the words "order, measure, time, and place" and at "due proportion" are an inspired touch. The highlight of the third part, though, is the duet, "As steals the morn upon the night," the only ensemble piece in the entire work, which is not only the culmination of the oratorio but also one of the sublime moments in all of Handel's oratorios. The final chorus in praise of Moderation, which follows this moving duet, seems at first a curiously subdued ending, but it is ultimately effective, returning to the middle ground and making use of the Dorian mode, a scale which Aristotle calls the sedate mean between the extremes of the other modes.
Mirth and melancholy
Without characters playing out a story, the drama of this oratorio comes from the tension between L'Allegro and Il Penseroso, the active and the contemplative and the imagery with which the poetry depicts them. Both the poems and the music portray them with subtlety: L'Allegro's music is not always fast and bright, nor is Il Penseroso's always slow and dark. The Melancholy of ll Penseroso is not the sadness or depression with which it is sometimes associated today. Rather, it is related to the Renaissance notion of inspired divine contemplation, aspiring, as the poem says, "to something like prophetic strain." It is reminiscent of Dürer's portrait of Melencolia. The opening recitative of Part II makes clear that it is related to the mystical Hermetic tradition of the Renaissance. Toward the end of Part II, Melancholy is associated with the spiritual power of music:
And let their sweetness through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstasies,
And bring all heav'n before mine eyes.
Although it is Saturnian and belongs to the night, Melancholy is ecstatic. The Mirth of L'Allegro, on the other hand, can become quiet and slow at times, such as at the end of Part I, where night falls and everyone goes to sleep; yet, despite its subdued character, this is still the world of L'Allegro, the world of the physical, which is active only in the sunlight.
In this oratorio, we feel the presence of both Milton and Handel, who were not only a century apart but were also quite different personalities. It is tempting to suggest that, while the poet may have leaned temperamentally in the direction of Il Penseroso, the composer may have leaned more toward L'Allegro.
Concerti grossi
Handel's concerts were very long by modern standards. He normally performed a concerto grosso before Part I of L'Allegro, another concerto grosso before Part II, and an organ concerto before Part III. Eventually he dropped Part III, but, in order to make sure that the audience got its money's worth, he ended the concert with a performance of another large work, the Ode for St. Cecilia.
Since the oratorio has no overture and begins with a recitative, it seems advisable to follow Handel's practice of preceding it with an instrumental piece. In the year before he wrote L'Allegro, he composed the twelve concerti grossi of his Opus 6, some of which he later used as overtures or interludes in his oratorio performances. It was no doubt for that purpose that he wrote out oboe parts for four of them (nos. 1, 2, 5, and 6) -- even though the printed edition of the concertos was for strings alone. The first concerto of Opus 6 in particular was one that Handel often used as an overture to L'Allegro.
Instruments
Handel used both harpsichord and organ as continuo instruments, and some descriptions of his oratorio performances tell us that he could call on a violone to double the cello and keyboard at the lower octave for recitatives. Knowing that he himself would be at the organ, Handel also left room to display his own celebrated powers of improvisation. In the chorale, "There let the pealing organ blow," each phrase is followed by an empty measure with the indication "Organo ad libitum." And in the following aria, "May at last my weary age," the score indicates that the organ should improvise on the fugue subject that would then be heard in the next chorus. It is a fascinating but daunting challenge for organists.
For the aria and chorus at the end of Part I, "Or let the merry bells ring round," Handel is known to have used some sort of keyboard instrument that played bells or bars of metal. It is no doubt the same instrument that Handel had had constructed for his oratorio Saul one year earlier. His librettist, Charles Jennens, obviously not taken with it, described it in a letter:
Mr. Handel's head is more full of maggots than ever. I found yesterday in his room a very queer instrument which he calls carillon and says some call it a Tubelcain, I suppose because it is both in the make and tone like a set of Hammers striking upon anvils. 'Tis played upon with keys like a Harpsichord and with this Cyclopean instrument he designs to make poor Saul stark mad.
Although Handel evidently did use a "carillon" in this piece, neither of his scores has a part for such an instrument. Some modern performances have used a carillon-like instrument to double the first violins, while some have turned to a more elaborate part for the instrument found in one contemporary manuscript. (It is reprinted in the Hallische Handel Ausgabe.) As for the actual instrument, what it was remains a matter of speculation. It does not survive, and Jennens' description of it is hardly enough to reconstruct it. But whether a modern-day performance uses a newly created instrument or a more traditional orchestral solution, such as celesta reinforced by glockenspiel, it clearly needs to have a strong enough sound to be effective in places where it doubles the violins or the chorus.
The other unusual instrument in L'Allegro is a contrabassoon which Handel specifies for a mere eight bars of the chorus, "There let the pealing organ blow." Some years later, the historian Charles Bumey reported that, although the instrument was built for Handel, it did not work, since no one in England at the time could make a reed that would play reliably in such a low range.
Performing version
Handel performed so many different versions of L'Allegro that Messiah, with all its variants, looks simple by comparison. Arias were added or omitted in later performances, and the order of pieces was changed. Pieces were transposed from one voice range to another, or rewritten to suit the voice of a particular singer who happened to be working with Handel in a given season. A few arias were even added in Italian at one point for the newly arrived Italian castrato, Andreoni. Most of these changes were opportunistic, made for the singers who were most interesting to the public and available to Handel at a certain time, but with others, Handel appears to have been trying to improve the work on musical grounds. No doubt altering the music for different performances was easier for a work like this that has no clear story line to preserve. The greatest single revision came in some later performances, when Handel omitted Part III, Il Moderato, and, in order to avoid ending with an Il penseroso praise of Melancholy, he changed the order of Part II and ended with a L'Allegro chorus.
It is impossible to come up with a definitive version of L'Allegro from the manuscript sources or, for that matter, even with a version that represents a fixed stage in Handel's performing practice, as we can with the several well known versions of Messiah. Of the several manuscript sources, the most important are Handel's autograph, which is not entirely complete, and a manuscript by his copyist J. C. Smith, both of which Handel used in his own performances. Within each of them, we find different forms of the same aria, changes in the order of pieces, additions and deletions.
In these manuscripts, we also often find the names of several different singers written next to a single aria, telling us that, in various performances, Handel used different types of voices for the same aria. One piece may have been sung sometimes by a boy soprano, sometimes a female soprano, or by a tenor. Another aria may have been sung by a soprano or sometimes by a bass, and a third by a soprano or an alto. A few general observations about Handel's soloists seem clear: for one, he appears always to have used more than one soprano soloist, an understandable choice, since not only are there many soprano arias, but also because the soprano is the only voice to have both Allegro and Penseroso music. Together with the women sopranos, Handel sometimes included a boy, and, in the 1741 London season, he included as one of his sopranos the Italian castrato, Andreoni (whose arias were sung in Italian translation). Handel's earliest performances had no alto soloist, but on his visit to Dublin in 1741, he contracted the mezzo-soprano Susanna Cibber to sing the alto solos in several of his oratorios, and from that time, his L'Allegro scores include alto versions of certain arias, as well as the name of Mrs. Cibber (listed as a contralto).
Boston Baroque Performances
L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato
October 9, 1981
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Susan Larson, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Karl Dan Sorensen, tenor
John Osborn, bass
Messiah
Oratorio in three parts
Libretto adapted from biblical verses by Charles Jennens
First performance: Dublin, April 13, 1742
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
One of the special challenges in performing Messiah year after year is to keep the work sounding fresh, as if one had just discovered it. When Boston Baroque gave the first Boston period-instrument performances of the complete oratorio in 1981, the work was still normally heard in this country in the relatively heavy, reverential style of the nineteenth century. It was thus a surprise to many listeners to hear a more detailed, articulate style and quicker tempos based on Baroque dance rhythms and speech patterns. This kind of performance was perhaps less in the spirit of church music -- Handel never performed Messiah in a church -- and more in the spirit of the theater, or of a "fine Entertainment," as Handel's librettist Charles Jennens called it.
Today, such an interpretation is much more common among both period and modern orchestras, and it is no longer surprising. Instead, a listener can focus on the drama of the work and how a particular performance presents it. I personally have found it satisfying to return to the work each year not so much to perform different versions of it or to consciously try to do something "different," but rather to discover more details and greater depth in the music. For me, that is what makes it perpetually "new." A work such as Messiah is inexhaustible.
The Italian love duets
Among the many avenues to explore in this work, are the original versions of some of the choruses. Shortly before he composed Messiah, Handel wrote a small collection of Italian love duets for two voices and continuo, of which he used five as the basis for movements in his oratorio. In Part I, these include the choruses "And He shall purify," "For unto us a child is born," and "His yoke is easy," and in Part II, "All we like sheep." In Part III, the short duet, "O death, where is thy sting" is also based on one of his love duets, but it remains a duet with continuo in the oratorio. It is fascinating to compare musical ideas in Messiah with those in the original Italian duets. The musical emphasis on the first word of "For unto us" has struck some people as odd, but it originally came on the strong word "No!" in the Italian duet. Similarly, the little rhythmic hiccup on the word "easy" in "His yoke is easy" may not sound particularly "easy," but it illustrated the word "ride" (laugh) in the original duet. It can also be revelatory to realize that portions of these choruses are still duets -- i. e. that there are often only two voice parts at a time, with the full chorus sounding mainly at climactic moments.
"Speaking" and "singing" music
The chorus has the greatest role of any actor in Messiah. Its music constantly shifts between a kind of "speaking" music, which declaims speech patterns in the text, and a more lyrical "singing" music. Much as dance rhythms can influence the tempo and character of a piece, the speech patterns of the text can often suggest a natural tempo. But "speaking" music is not only rhythmic; it also has very flexible, detailed dynamics, as in actual speech, where the sound of even a single syllable may sometimes die away. A more powerful type of spoken declamation often comes at climactic moments, such as at the words "Wonderful, counselor" in the chorus "For unto us a child is born." The playing of the orchestra too can reflect the rhythmic quality and detailed dynamics of the speech patterns in the text, an effect that is perhaps more natural for Baroque instruments but that can be achieved on modern instruments, as well.
The libretto and the drama
In creating his libretto, Charles Jennens interspersed texts from both the Old Testament prophets and the New Testament to depict in a general way the story of the messiah. Although the oratorio is primarily contemplative, with no speaking characters and hardly any action, it does fall into several dramatic scenes, which demand a degree of continuity between movements in performance. The first scene, running from the overture through the chorus "For unto us a child is born," prefigures the arrival of the messiah. The second opens with an instrumental interlude depicting the shepherds' pipes (Pifa) and the angel announcing the birth of Jesus; it is the only truly narrative moment in the oratorio and ends with angels gradually disappearing as the music fades away. Part I concludes with rejoicing.
Part II falls into two large scenes, the first reflecting on the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus, and the second depicting the spread of the Gospel. Part III is a section of contemplation and thanksgiving, based on the Anglican burial service.
In places, these scenes are unified by recurring figuration in the music: the sharp, dotted rhythms representing the scourging of Jesus in Part II first appear in the middle section of the aria "He was despised", then again in the following chorus ("Surely, he hath borne our griefs"), and yet again in the recitative ("All they that see him laugh him to scorn"). Sometimes scenes are unified by pieces in related tempos or in similar affects. An example of the latter occurs at the end of Part II, where a string of violent images ("Why do the nations so furiously rage together", "Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron") is crowned with the chorus "Hallelujah." In this context, "Hallelujah" becomes not only a shout of joy but also something of a war cry.
Historical background
When Charles Jennens presented Handel with his text for Messiah in 1741, Handel's fortunes were so low that he was considering leaving England. Several years earlier, his opera company had collapsed and he had suffered a stroke. In the years following his recovery, he had had great success with two English oratorios (Saul and L'Allegro), but his two Italian operas had been complete failures. With the fashion for Italian opera apparently over, Jennens hoped to persuade Handel to write more English oratorios.
In the summer of 1741 came a fortuitous invitation to give a series of concerts in Dublin. With these concerts in mind, Handel set to work on the music for Messiah on August 22, completing the enormous work on September 14, a mere three weeks later. Jennens, never one to be overly modest, expressed disappointment that Handel had not spent a year setting his libretto. "[Handel] has made a fine Entertainment of it, tho' not near so good as he might & ought to have done. I have with great difficulty made him correct some of the grossest faults in the composition, but he retain'd his Overture obstinately, in which there are some passages far unworthy of Handel, but much more unworthy of the Messiah."
Messiah was premiered on April 13, 1742 in Dublin for the benefit of charity and drew so many people that ladies were requested not to wear hoops, in order to accommodate a larger audience. The series of concerts was a triumph. According to Faulkner's Journal, "The best judges allowed it to be the most finished piece of Musick. Words are wanting to express the exquisite Delight it afforded to the admiring crowded Audience."
But Handel was wary about presenting his new oratorio in London. Several years earlier, Israel in Egypt had failed, partly due to a controversy over using a biblical text in the theater. When he did finally introduce Messiah there in 1743, it was not well received, partly indeed because of its biblical text, but also partly because there were so many choruses and no characters playing out a story. The work did not become widely accepted until he began presenting it in his annual charity performances for the Foundling Hospital in 1750. Between that time and Handel's death in 1759, Messiah attained the exalted stature it has held to the present day, a musical tradition unparalleled in the English-speaking world.
Performing versions
In Messiah, as in many of his other works, Handel made numerous changes for later performances. Many of these alterations, such as moving an aria from one voice range to another, were made simply to accommodate a new singer and do not necessarily reflect his final preference for how a movement ought to go. Other changes, however, appear to be attempts to improve the work and must be taken into account in a modern performance. There is no definitive version. A modern performer must look at the various versions presented in the different manuscripts (sometimes there is more than one version in the same manuscript), try to understand the reasons for the changes, and make decisions about the best version to use.
Handel's autograph score survives, and, while it contains the original version of the work, he seems to have changed his mind about certain pieces even before the first performance. At least as important as the autograph is a score which Handel apparently used in Dublin and in certain later performances. It is in the hand of Handel's copyist, but Handel himself has made many changes and marginal notes, including writing in names of singers. A third important version is a manuscript, again by a copyist, bequeathed by Handel in his will to the Foundling Hospital, for which he had given benefit concerts. This Foundling Hospital score appears never to have been used, but with it there is a valuable set of orchestral and vocal parts which formed the basis for many of his later performances. There are other sources, but these three -- the autograph, Dublin and Foundling Hospital -- have the greatest authority from Handel's own performances.
Boston Baroque Performances
Messiah
December 7 & 8, 2024
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Maya Kherani, soprano
Avery Amereau, mezzo-soprano
Omar Najmi, tenor
Jesse Blumberg, baritone
December 2 & 3, 2023
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Tamara Mumford, mezzo-soprano
Karim Sulayman, tenor
Roderick Williams, baritone
December 3 & 4, 2022
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Heidi Stober, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
Thomas Cooley, tenor
Sidney Outlaw, baritone
December 10, 11 & 12, 2021
Calderwood Studio at GBH, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Maya Kherani, soprano
Christopher Lowrey, countertenor
Aaron Sheehan, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 6 & 7, 2019
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
Thomas Cooley, tenor
Andrew Garland, baritone
December 7 & 8, 2018
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Layla Claire, soprano
Eric Jurenas, countertenor
Norman Shankle, tenor
Nathan Stark, bass-baritone
December 8 & 9, 2017
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Ava Pine, soprano
Paula Murrihy, mezzo-soprano
Aaron Sheehan, tenor
Stephen Powell, baritone
December 9 & 10, 2016
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
Joshua Kohl, tenor
Andrew Garland, baritone
April 1, 2015
NOSPR Hall, Katowice, Poland
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Yulia Van Doren, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
Thomas Cooley, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 12 & 13, 2014
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sherezade Panthaki, soprano
William Burden, tenor
Dashon Burton, bass
December 13 & 14, 2013
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Kiera Duffy, soprano
Kate Lindsey, mezzo-soprano
Nicholas Phan, tenor
Jesse Blumberg, baritone
December 7 & 8, 2012
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Mary Wilson, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
John McVeigh, tenor
Andrew Garland, baritone
December 9 & 10, 2011
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Ava Pine, soprano
Julia Mintzer, mezzo-soprano
Keith Jameson, tenor
Andrew Garland, baritone
December 10 & 11, 2010
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Matthew White, countertenor
Keith Jameson, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 11 & 12, 2009
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
Lawrence Wiliford, tenor
Timothy Jones, bass-baritone
December 12 & 13, 2008
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Tamara Matthews, soprano
Alan Dornak, countertenor
Keith Jameson, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 14 & 15, 2007
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Amanda Pabyan, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
Kerem Kurk, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 8 & 9, 2006
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Tamara Matthews, soprano
Ann McMahon Quintero, mezzo-soprano
Don Frazure, tenor
Michael Dean, bass-baritone
December 16 & 17, 2005
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Tamara Matthews, soprano
Kristin Watson, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
Keith Jameson, tenor
Michael Dean, bass-baritone
December 17 & 18, 2004
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sari Gruber, soprano
Phyllis Pancella, mezzo-soprano
Keith Jameson, tenor
Stephen Powell, baritone
December 12 & 13, 2003
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
Don Frazure, tenor
Michael Dean, bass-baritone
March 18, 2003
Warsaw Philharmonic Hall, Warsaw, Poland
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Mary Phillips, mezzo-soprano
Carl Halvorson, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
March 17, 2003
Kraków Philharmonic Hall, Kraków, Poland
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Mary Phillips, mezzo-soprano
Carl Halvorson, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 13 & 14, 2002
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Esther Heideman, soprano
Elizabeth Shammash, mezzo-soprano
Carl Halvorson, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 14 & 15, 2001
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Esther Heideman, soprano
Deanne Meek, mezzo-soprano
Carl Halvorson, tenor
Dean Ely, bass
December 15 & 16, 2000
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Margaret Lattimore, mezzo-soprano
Mark Tucker, tenor
Dean Ely, bass
December 17 & 18, 1999
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jennifer Welch, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
Gordon Gietz, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 15, 1999
Portsmouth Music Hall, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jennifer Welch, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
Gordon Gietz, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 14, 1999
North Shore Music Theater, Beverly, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Jennifer Welch, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
Gordon Gietz, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 18 & 19, 1998
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
Gordon Gietz, tenor
Victor Ledbetter, baritone
December 16, 1998
Portsmouth Music Hall, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
David Walker, countertenor
Gordon Gietz, tenor
Victor Ledbetter, baritone
December 19 & 20, 1997
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Beth Clayton, mezzo-soprano
Mark Bleeke, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 17, 1997
Portsmouth Music Hall, Portsmouth, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Beth Clayton, mezzo-soprano
Mark Bleeke, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
December 22, 1996
Zeiterion Theater, New Bedford, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Brenda Harris, soprano
Laura Tucker, mezzo-soprano
Bruce Fowler, tenor
Victor Ledbetter, baritone
December 20 & 21, 1996
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Brenda Harris, soprano
Laura Tucker, mezzo-soprano
Bruce Fowler, tenor
Victor Ledbetter, baritone
December 16, 1995
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Brenda Harris, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Glenn Siebert, tenor
David Arnold, baritone
December 17, 1994
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Catherine Robbin, mezzo-soprano
Mark Bleeke, tenor
David Arnold, baritone
December 16, 1993
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Steven Tharp, tenor
David Arnold, baritone
December 12, 1992
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Karen Clift, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Bruce Fowler, tenor
David Arnold, baritone
December 14, 1991
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Mary Ann Hart, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Erik Oland, baritone
December 14, 1990
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Carol Ann Allred, soprano
Dale Terbeck, countertenor
Christopher Hux, tenor
Myron Myers, bass
December 15, 1989
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Carol Ann Allred, soprano
Pamela Dellal, mezzo-soprano
Christopher Hux, tenor
William Parker, baritone
December 14, 1989
St. Anselm’s College, Manchester, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Pamela Murray, soprano
Jean Danton, soprano
Pamela Dellal, mezzo-soprano
Christopher Hux, tenor
William Parker, baritone
December 9, 1988
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Thomas Mark Fallon, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
Sanford Sylvan, baritone
December 9, 1988
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Thomas Mark Fallon, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
Sanford Sylvan, baritone
December 11, 1987
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Steven Rickards, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
David Evitts, baritone
December 14, 1986
Brightwaters, Long Island, NY
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Mary Westbrook-Geha, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
December 12, 1986
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Mary Westbrook-Geha, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
December 16, 1985
Carnegie Hall, New York City, New York
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Mary Westbrook-Geha, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
December 13, 1985
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Mary Westbrook-Geha, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
December 10, 1984
Carnegie Hall, New York City, New York
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Mary Westbrook-Geha, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
December 7, 1984
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Mary Westbrook-Geha, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
December 2, 1983
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
December 4, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Kim Scown, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
November 21, 1981
Sanders Theater, Cambridge, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Kerry McCarthy, soprano
Jeffrey Gall, countertenor
Ray DeVoll, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
Saul
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Theodora
Oratorio in three parts
Words by Thomas Morell
First performance: March 16,1750 at Covent Garden, London
Cast, in order of appearance:
Valens, President of Antioch (bass)
Didimus, Roman officer converted by Theodora (alto)
Septimius, a Roman officer (tenor)
Theodora, a Christian of noble birth (soprano)
Irene, a Christian, friend of Theodora (mezzo)
A messenger(tenor)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
With Theodora, Handel's second to last oratorio, the 64-year-old composer broke new ground. It is his only oratorio other than Messiah to be based on a Christian subject, but Messiah is a grand ceremonial work, while Theodora is intimate and deals with religious devotion and human nobility on a very personal level. Here there is a sense of serenity and tranquility that is quite different from what we find in his earlier oratorios. Alongside beautiful arias, many of the choruses have an unexpected contemplative quality. In fact, the entire work concludes with a chorus that, rather than being a brilliant crowd-pleaser, is more of a gentle lullaby. It has sometimes been compared to the final chorus of Bach's St. Matthew Passion, which is also in a minor key and 3/4 time.
Handel wrote Theodora in his characteristic white heat, completing the entire work in one month during the summer of 1749. It was premiered at Covent Garden during the Lenten season of 1750. His frequent practice of borrowing music from other composers, as well as from his own earlier works, is well represented here. Musical ideas from a Bononcini opera, from chamber duets of Giovanni Carlo Maria Clari and others turn up in as many as fifteen numbers in Theodora, although, for the most part, they are greatly altered and are fashioned into music that is truly Handelian. However, in one case, an entire harpsichord piece by Muffat is lifted whole and orchestrated to make one movement of the overture.
Handel's librettist, Thomas Morell, based his story on an early novella (1687) by Robert Boyle called The Martyrdom of Theodora and of Didymus, but he also borrowed elements of Corneille's earlier tragic play on the same subject. A noblewoman of Antioch who lived during the reign of the emperor Diocletian, Theodora converted to Christianity and was martyred in 304 A.D. In the oratorio, she refuses to join a pagan ritual in honor of the emperor and is thrown into prison, where she is sentenced to serve as a temple prostitute, a fate that she considers worse than death. Didimus, a Roman soldier who is in love with her and who has secretly converted to Christianity, pledges to save her. He switches clothes with Theodora and takes her place in the prison cell. But their ruse is discovered, and the oratorio ends with both Theodora and Didimus awaiting their martyrdom.
In retrospect, it is perhaps not surprising that a contemplative work with a tragic ending and a story about Christian virtue was not successful with the public of the day. Handel's librettist tells us that the composer considered it his most important oratorio and was annoyed with its poor reception. He reports Handel's complaint that "the Jews will not come to it because it is a Christian story, and the ladies will not come because it is a virtuous one." Later in the season, when two patrons were trying to buy a ticket to Messiah, he reportedly snapped, "You are damnable dainty! You would not go to Theodora -- there was room enough to dance there, when that was performed." Nonetheless, there were some connoisseurs in the audience, as well as musicians who defended it as one of his greatest works. One of them, Mary Delany, wrote, "the generality of the world have ears and hear not."
Yet despite his high regard for the work, Handel did evidently feel that there were problems with it as it was originally presented, and he quickly set about shortening and altering some of the scenes. An original, lengthier version of a work is not necessarily preferable simply because it came first. In this case, Handel's revisions appear to be his considered last thoughts about the oratorio, and they do significantly improve its structure overall. But in truth, Handel may not have finished with it. His eyesight failed him while he was writing Jephtha shortly afterward, and he could not work further on Theodora, even though he did perform it one more time in 1755.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Theodora
May 2 & 3, 2003
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Michael Dean - Valens
David Walker - Didimus
Glenn Siebert - Septimius
Sharon Baker - Theodora
Mary Phillips - Irene
Murray Kidd - Messenger
The Ten Commandments
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Haydn's rarely performed Ten Commandments is a collection of ten canons for a cappella voices, which set the texts of the biblical commandments. During his time in London in the early 1790's, Haydn presented these canons as a present to the Saxon minister in London, Herr Graf Brühl. They are simple, occasional works, but their very lightness often masks complex, learned contrapuntal techniques. The first canon, for example, was written in the form of a puzzle. In the solution that Haydn wrote out, we see that not only do the various voices imitate each other, but that the canon can be sung forward, backward, right-side-up, or upside-down.
Haydn scholar H. C. Robbins Landon has remarked on Haydn's "sunny attitude toward religion" in some of these canons. The sixth canon treats adultery with a light touch and lilting rhythm, and the ninth canon ("Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife") begins with a humorous, slow staccato scale. An old tradition says that Haydn stole the tune for the seventh canon ("Thou shalt not steal"), but no original version has ever been found. Some of the canons, however, are more austere, and the overall effect is one of quiet seriousness, music that is both moving and light.
Haydn, The Ten Commandments
Du sollst an einen Gott glauben.
Du sollst den Namen Gottes nicht eitel nennen.
Du sollst Sonn- und Feiertag heiligen.
Du sollst Vater und Mutter verehren, auf dass du lang lebst und dir wohlgeh auf Erden.
Du sollst nicht töten.
Du sollst nicht Unkeuschheit treiben.
Du sollst nicht stehlen.
Du sollst kein falsch Zeugnis geben.
Du sollst nicht begehren deines Nächsten Weib.
Du sollst nicht begehren deines Nächsten Gut.
Thou shalt believe in one God.
Thou shalt not utter the name of God in vain.
Thou shalt keep the Sabbath holy.
Thou shalt honor thy father and mother, so that you shall live a long and happy life.
Thou shalt not murder.
Thou shalt not commit adultery.
Thou shalt not steal.
Thou shalt not bear false witness.
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's possessions.
Boston Baroque Performances
The Ten Commandments
April 24, 1998
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Concerto in D Major for Harpsichord or Piano
for keyboard solo with 2 oboes, 2 horns and strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This popular concerto was first announced by publishers in 1784 and was therefore probably written a year or two earlier. The publishers called it a concerto for "harpsichord or fortepiano," a designation that was often used at the time to increase sales to people who did not yet have pianos. Nonetheless, the piece does work on either instrument, particularly in the outer movements, although the lyrical slow movement may suggest the dynamic flexibility of the piano. By this time, Haydn was writing keyboard sonatas that were clearly meant for the piano, and certainly Mozart's keyboard concertos could only be played on the piano. But Haydn was not the keyboard virtuoso that Mozart was, and this concerto is in a simpler transitional style that can work on either instrument. The large modern piano, however, is not as flattering to this piece as either the harpsichord or the early piano of Haydn's time. With more upper partials in the sound of the early instruments, the writing sounds fuller and makes this music sound brighter and more lively than it would on a modern piano.
The concerto is indeed a bright and lively piece, and, for that reason, it has always been popular with audiences. Following a sparkling Haydnesque Allegro and an extraordinarily beautiful slow movement with chains of sextuplets and a lyrical melodic line, the work ends with a finale that is called a "Rondo all'Ungherese" (Rondo in a Hungarian Style). It is Gypsy music based on folk tunes that Haydn had heard, infectious dance music that must have been a rousing surprise to his first listeners and that is still exciting to audiences today.
Cadenzas by Martin Pearlman
Boston Baroque Performances
Concerto in D Major for Harpsichord or Piano
August 24, 1989
King Ridge, New London, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor & fortepiano
February 9, 1988
St. Anselm’s College, Manchester, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor & fortepiano
February 21, 1986
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor & fortepiano
February 5, 1983
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor & fortepiano
Cello Concerto No. 1 in C Major
Orchestra: 2 oboes, 2 horns and strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Haydn listed a cello concerto in C major in his thematic catalogue of his own works, but the piece was thought to be lost, until a set of manuscript parts was found in 1961 in a collection in Prague. Since then, it has become a popular concerto with cellists, due to its virtuosic writing for the instrument and its bright, youthful character. It is an early work from the first years of Haydn's employment with Prince Esterházy, that is, from the early 1760's. Because the writing is similar to the significant cello solos in some of Haydn's symphonies from that time, particularly symphonies nos. 6-8, it is thought probably to have been written for Joseph Weigl, a virtuoso cellist in the prince's orchestra at the time and a close friend of Haydn. The orchestration calls for two oboes, two horns and strings, and it would presumably include a continuo harpsichord or other continuo instruments, as well.
Boston Baroque Performances
Cello Concerto No. 1 in C Major
March 13, 1982
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Anner Bylsma, cello
Cello Concerto No. 2 in D Major
Orchestra: 2 oboes, 2 horns and strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Haydn's D major cello concerto is dated 1783, approximately twenty years after his C major cello concerto. It is thought to have been written for Anton Kraft, a virtuoso cellist in Haydn's orchestra at Esterházy, and to have been carefully tailored to show off that performer's technical skills. At the time, Haydn was mainly preoccupied with composing and conducting operas at Esterházy and was only sporadically composing symphonies, so the commission for a cello concerto may have felt like something of a distraction. Nonetheless, the resulting work is one of his best known concertos today. It has been a popular virtuoso vehicle for cellists ever since the late nineteenth century, when its orchestration was expanded to suit Romantic tastes. That is when an edition was published that gave the piece a full wind section (flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, and horns) along with strings. Haydn's original orchestration is more transparent and more typical of the eighteenth century, oboes and horns being the only winds.
Boston Baroque Performances
Cello Concerto No. 2 in D Major
April 3, 1987
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Anner Bylsma, cello
Die Schöpfung (The Creation)
Oratorio in three parts
German libretto by Baron Gottfried von Swieten
First performance: Vienna, April 30, 1798
Soloists: Soprano, tenor, bass
Chorus: S-A-T-B
Orchestra: 3 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, strings, keyboard continuo
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
From its very first performance in Vienna in April of 1798, The Creation caused an unprecedented sensation throughout Europe. It was seen as the crowning achievement of the greatest living composer, and box office receipts for the premiere broke all records. With tickets hard to come by, market stalls had to be cleared in front of the theater, and foot police were hired to control the crowd. Following the Paris premiere, Napoleon -- who was nearly assassinated in the plot of Rue Saint-Nicaise on his way to the theater -- had a medal struck in honor of the composer.
In Vienna, Haydn's oratorio has been performed every year since its premiere and has enjoyed the unique stature that Handel's Messiah has in English-speaking countries. Elsewhere, however, the work, and particularly its text, gradually began to come in for criticism. At a time when a great deal of literature was censored in Vienna for its revolutionary tendencies, some saw dangerous Masonic influences in the text, and the church banned performances in its buildings. Nonetheless, government authorities generally considered the libretto of The Creation to be safe and conservative. It reads like a Baroque text, influenced in part by Handel's oratorios: it is based on a biblical model with old-fashioned symbolism and musical depictions of animals and other effects. While all this worked well with the Viennese, the more up-to-date -- and less censored -- German literati began after a few years to criticize it as backward. Schiller, whose plays were banned in Vienna, called the libretto a "characterless mishmash" and considered the word painting in the music to be simplistic.
In England, where Haydn's recent visits were still remembered with admiration, the music was an enormous success, even after the libretto eventually began to be criticized. But here there was another element at work. As popular as Haydn was, there were increasingly strong suggestions that it was presumptuous to try to compete with the enshrined oratorios of their "native" son Handel. A newspaper review of the London premiere began the attack gently: "[The Creation], although not equal in grandeur to the divine compositions of the immortal HANDEL, is nevertheless, on the whole, a very charming production."
By the end of the nineteenth century, The Creation was in low repute and rarely heard outside Vienna, except for some of its solo arias, which were used as recital pieces. The libretto, according to one biographer of the time, was in places "more than modern flesh and blood can bear . . . In another fifty years, perhaps, the critic will be able to say that [the work's] main interest is largely historic and literary."
Nearly fifty years later, however, almost the opposite happened. In 1949, the short-lived Haydn Society, a company created by the scholar H. C. Robbins Landon, issued the first recording of The Creation, touching off its rapid revival as one of the greatest and most popular works of the choral repertoire. Today even the librettist of this great work is generally admired as a fine collaborator who inspired Haydn's genius.
The libretto
The text for The Creation is by Baron Gottfried van Swieten, the musical connoisseur who introduced Mozart and Haydn to many of the works of Bach and Handel. It was he who commissioned Mozart's arrangements of Handel's Messiah and Acis and Galatea and who commissioned symphonies from C. P. E. Bach. And it was he who encouraged Haydn to write an up-to-date Handelian oratorio, a suggestion which Haydn no doubt found intriguing, since he had only recently visited England, where he was greatly moved by performances of Handel's music.
The work is in three parts, Part I dealing with the creation of the earth and its flora, Part II with the creation of the animal world and of man, and Part III with the awakening of Adam and Eve. Three soloists -- the number always used by Haydn himself for this piece -- portray three archangels and later Adam and Eve. Van Swieten's German text actually derives mainly from English sources, principally paraphrases of the English bible and Milton's Paradise Lost. An actual English translation, using some of the original words from these sources, appears in the first published edition of The Creation (1800), which gives singing texts in both German and English. Exactly who created the English translation has never been completely established, although some suspect Van Swieten himself, perhaps even with the collaboration of Haydn.
German or English?
Because The Creation appeared in both German and English during Haydn's lifetime, it is often sung in the vernacular in English-speaking countries. However, German is the language for which the music was originally composed and which fits the notes more convincingly. While the English can make the text feel more immediate to English speakers, the language is often awkward and stilted in places where it is not borrowing directly from Milton or the bible. This was already recognized and criticized by British listeners and critics during Haydn's lifetime. One publisher wrote, "It is lamentable to see such divine music joined with such miserable broken English . . ." Today, with audiences so used to hearing works of Bach, Mozart and others in their original languages, it would seem preferable to present this oratorio in the stronger character of its original German and to provide an audience with a translation.
The music
The oratorio opens with an extraordinary orchestral introduction, depicting the chaos which preceded creation. It is without doubt the most modern music written up to that time. Not only do the chromatic harmonies depict the instability of chaos, but the large orchestra is used in novel ways that truly belong to the nineteenth century. The transparent colors of solo woodwinds and of lower strings create swirling, shadowy effects. Each element of the orchestration is carefully thought out, without any formulaic doubling of parts.
The musical depictions of animals, the sunrise and other effects. which were so criticized in the following century, were initially -- and are again today -- enormously effective and popular. The wonderful moment when light is created out of darkness with a sudden, fully orchestrated C major chord, was particularly electrifying to the original audiences. An eyewitness at the first public rehearsal records the effect:
No one, not even Baron van Swieten, had seen the page of the score wherein the birth of light is described. That was the only passage of the work which Haydn had kept hidden. I think I see his face even now, as this part sounded in the orchestra. Haydn had the expression of someone who is thinking of biting his lips, either to hide his embarrassment or to conceal a secret. And in that moment when light broke out for the first time, one would have said that rays darted from the composer's burning eyes. The enchantment of the electrified Viennese was so general that the orchestra could not proceed for some minutes.
The use of trombones and contrabassoon is unusual for the time and brilliantly enhances special moments, such as the creation of light and the heavy footsteps of beasts on the earth. The contrabassoon, which Haydn first heard in London, was in fact new to Vienna.
Performance issues
The size of the forces used for Haydn's own performances of The Creation varied enormously. There were performances with 200 musicians, one version so small that it would have to be called chamber music, and ensembles of various sizes in between. When Haydn conducted the work for a visit of Lord Nelson at Esterházy two years after the premiere, he had a relatively small orchestra and chorus.
Haydn is said by various reports to have taken quick, vigorous tempos in conducting his own works, even in his old age. In some of the old manuscript parts used by his soloists, there are embellishments added in certain arias, which can inspire ideas about ornamentation today.
Orchestration Chart
This chart gives an overview of the work, showing which soloists and instruments are in each movement. It has also been useful in planning rehearsals, since one can see at a glance all the music that a particular musician plays. Red X's indicate major solo moments for a singer. An X in parentheses indicates that the use of that instrument is ad libitum.
This is a preview of the beginning of the chart. You can download or view a PDF of the whole chart here.
© Boston Baroque 2020
Boston Baroque Performances
Die Schöpfung
October 4 & 5, 2024
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Hera Hysesang Park, soprano
Paul Appleby, tenor
Nicholas Newton, bass-baritone
October 21 & 22, 2011
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Keith Jameson, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
May 2 & 3, 2008
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sari Gruber, soprano
Brian Stucki, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
April 20, 1989
St. Anselm’s College, Manchester, NH
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Carol Ann Allred, soprano
Tony Boutte, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
March 3, 1989
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Carol Ann Allred, soprano
Tony Boutte, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
"Anna m'ascolta" (from Il ritorno di Tobia)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This brilliant aria comes from an oratorio that is rarely heard today. A quarter of a century before Haydn's late oratorios, The Creation and The Seasons, he wrote another oratorio, Il ritorno di Tobia (The Return of Tobias), which, although it was one of the major works of his decades at Esterháza, has been so eclipsed that few music lovers today know of its existence and even fewer have heard it. Written in 1775 for a concert of the Vienna Tonkünstler Societät (Society of Musicians) to benefit their charity for widows and orphans, it was an enormous success not only financially but also artistically. It made Haydn more famous than ever, and copies of the score circulated throughout Europe.
It is indeed a major work with some beautiful music, virtuosic arias and powerful choruses, but several factors have worked against it. Six years after the premiere, Haydn mounted a new production, for which he shortened the work from its original three hours of music, reduced some of the difficult passage work in the arias, and wrote a few new choruses. But popular tastes had changed by then, and the revival was not the kind of success that Haydn had had at the premiere. When he first wrote the work, any oratorio or opera performed in Vienna was expected to be in Italian -- including even Handel's oratorios, which were translated into Italian. But by the time of this revival in 1781, that fashion had passed, and an Italian oratorio like this one was not as much of an attraction as it had been.
The greatest problem, though, even beyond being overwhelmed by the success of his later oratorios, is in the libretto. It was written by Giovanni Boccherini, the brother of the composer, and it is based on a story from the ancient Book of Tobit in the Apocrypha. It was an extremely popular and well known story in Haydn's day and one that had inspired many musical settings and paintings. Tobias's journey to find a cure for his father's blindness leads to exciting adventures, including a battle with a sea monster and an encounter with an evil demon who, on their wedding nights, has killed seven bridegrooms of the woman that Tobias is about to marry.
But none of this plays much of a role in the oratorio. The adventures are simply reported in a recitative, and most of the libretto is devoted to moralizing thoughts about the story and to conversation between characters. As a result, Haydn does not have the kinds of dramatic opportunities that he has in his later oratorios. Instead, he gives us extended arias that are wonderfully inventive and virtuosic but that almost seem to stand on their own, like concerto movements. This is wonderful music that deserves to be known and heard, even if it means that individual arias may be extracted to be played as concert pieces.
The aria, "Anna, m'ascolta" occurs early in the oratorio. It is sung by the archangel Raphael, who is disguised as Tobias's traveling companion and prophesies to his friend's distraught mother, Anna, that her son will return safely from his journey and cure his father's blindness.
Translation
Anna, m'ascolta!
Quel figlio a te sì caro,
che alfine il Ciel ti rende,
al padre, che l'attende,
la vista renderà.
Sarà ministro il figlio
dell' opra portentosa,
e la sua man pietosa
l'opra compir saprà.
Anna, listen to me!
This son, so dear to you,
whom heaven at last brings back to you,
will restore sight
to his father who awaits him.
Your son will be the instrument
of this great miracle,
and his compassionate hand
will accomplish the work.
Boston Baroque Performances
"Anna, m'ascolta" from Il ritorno di Tobia
October 25 & 27, 2019
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Amanda Forsythe, soprano
Scena di Berenice ("Berenice, che fai?")
Libretto from Metastasio's Antigono
For soprano with 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 bassoons and strings
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Haydn's two visits to London late in his life were among the highlights of his career. Not only was he celebrated as the greatest living composer, but he managed to make a considerable amount of money from his compositions. One of the most celebrated successes of his second visit was a benefit concert which he produced for himself on May 4, 1795, in which some of the greatest artists in the world performed. Among other works, the program included the premieres of Haydn's last symphony (No. 104) and his dramatic cantata Scena di Berenice, the latter written for the most famous prima donna of the day, Brigitta Giorgi Banti. One anonymous listener wrote comments on his program. "Very noisy" was his only remark about the symphony, but he was a bit more informative about Brigitta Banti's singing in the cantata. "Banti," he wrote, "has a clear, sweet equable voice, her low & high notes equally good. Her recitative admirably expressive. Her voice rather wants fulness of tone; her shake [trill] is weak & imperfect." Haydn too seemed a bit disappointed with his prima donna. In his diary he wrote (in English), "she sang very scanty." Of the concert in general he was more enthusiastic: "The whole company was thoroughly pleased and so was I. I made four thousand Gulden on this evening. Such a thing is only possible in England."
The Scena de Berenice (Berenice's scene) is one of the great eighteenth-century concert arias. The text is taken from an opera libretto by the poet Pietro Metastasio. The complete opera, Antigono, had first been set to music by Hasse in 1743 and subsequently by Galuppi, Piccinni, Paisiello and many other composers throughout the century. Haydn chose a single scene out of the libretto, which occurs near the end of the opera, just before the denouement. Berenice has been separated from her lover, Demetrio, and, as he is about to die, she becomes overwhelmed and delirious. The first section of the scene mixes free dramatic recitative and short ariosos, and the work ends with a dramatic aria in F minor. The form, though irregular, is found in many dramatic concert arias of the time, including Beethoven's Ah, perfido! which is directly modeled on this work.
Boston Baroque Performances
Scena di Berenice, ("Berenice, che fai?")
March 4 & 5, 2016
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Ann Maria Labin, soprano
May 6 & 7, 2005
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Lauren Skuce, soprano
February 22, 1991
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Lorraine Hunt, mezzo-soprano
Mass in Bb, Schöpfungsmesse (Creation Mass)
First performance: September 13, 1801
Vocal soloists (SATB)
Chorus (SATB)
Orchestra: 2 oboes, 2 clarinets in Bb and Eb, 2 bassoons, 2 horns in Bb and Eb, timpani, strings, organ (obbligato in Et incarnatus)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Haydn's Schöpfungsmesse (Creation Mass), so called because it briefly quotes a passage from his oratorio The Creation, is not as frequently performed today as his dramatic Lord Nelson Mass or his Harmoniemesse. Nonetheless, Haydn scholar H. C. Robbins Landon has written that "many consider it Haydn's finest achievement in the genre." Haydn's contemporary, the composer Johann Adam Hiller, one of Bach's successors at the St. Thomas Church in Leipzig, wrote on his copy of this mass, "the greatest work of a very great man, J. Haydn."
After his triumphant visits to England, where he composed his last symphonies, Haydn devoted the final years of his career mainly to a series of masses and oratorios. It had been some fourteen years since he wrote the last of his earlier masses, but in this last period of composition, 1796 to 1802, Haydn's output included the oratorios The Creation and The Seasons, as well as an annual series of masses to celebrate the name day of the Princess Josepha Maria Hermenegild, the wife of his patron, Nicholas II of Esterhazy. The composition of these masses was one of the few duties still required of the aging capellmeister. Compared to his earlier works, these late masterpieces are on a grander scale with writing that is more symphonic and demanding. For this most celebrated composer in the world, these new works represented not only the pinnacle of his achievement but also a new direction, inspired in part by having heard Handel's oratorios in England.
The Creation Mass is the fifth of Haydn's six late masses. It was completed on September 11, 1801, only two days before its premiere on the princess's name day. At the time, Haydn was busy preparing his oratorio The Seasons for publication, having premiered it earlier that year, and he had only a month and a half to compose the mass.
The brief eight-bar quotation from his oratorio The Creation, which gives this work its popular name, was initially controversial. It appears at the first occurrence of the words "Qui tollis peccata mundi" ("Thou who takest away the sins of the world") and comes from a duet in the oratorio in which Adam and Eve sing of the pleasures of the newly created world -- the morning, the evening breezes, and the sweetness of fruit. To some listeners, it was an inappropriate mixing of the sacred and the secular, but Haydn left it as he wrote it. Nonetheless, in the copy that he prepared for the Empress Marie Therese, he altered the passage and removed the quotation at her request.
Boston Baroque Performances
Mass in Bb, Schöpfungsmesse (“Creation Mass”)
April 8, 1988
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Gloria Raymond, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
Mass in Bb, Harmoniemesse
First performance: September 8, 1802
Vocal soloists (SATB)
Chorus (SATB)
Orchestra: Flute, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings, organ
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
Composed in 1802, Haydn's Harmoniemesse is his last completed composition. By that time, the seventy-year old Haydn, celebrated as the greatest living composer, held what was essentially an emeritus position, sitting at table with Prince Esterhazy himself and being obliged only to compose one mass each year to commemorate the princess's name day. But composing a major choral work each year was taxing on a man who felt himself to be old and in failing health, and he was no doubt glad to be freed of this obligation for the future.
The Harmoniemesse was given its first performance on September 8 of 1802, the princess's name day, at a mass in her honor. After the mass, the invited guests returned to the Esterhazy palace for a dinner which offered scores of various dishes and many fine wines. The round of toasts, including one to Haydn, was punctuated by trumpets and drums in the gallery and the sound of cannon from outside the hall. The evening concluded with a ball.
The Harmoniemesse, named for its unusually large "Harmonie" (or wind) section, is the last -- and many would say the greatest -- of the series of six masses which Haydn wrote toward the end of his life. It has always been held in special esteem by musicians and others who knew it, but, being a mass, it has never enjoyed the wide popularity of his two great oratorios, The Creation and The Seasons, which date from the same period.
This mass has an enormous stylistic range, from fugues that look back to the Baroque to music that comes out of the Enlightenment or that looks forward to early Romanticism, all of it beautifully blended through Haydn's musical personality. Emotionally the work ends on a triumphant note, but it runs an entire gamut, beginning with what Haydn scholar H. C. Robbins Landon has called "an enormous slow movement, a surging Poco adagio which rolls on like some mighty river. Here is an entirely new kind of Kyrie," he writes, "mystical, slow-paced, exalted, but also filled with a sense of nostalgia. This is the real Spätstil, a genuine farewell to music."
Boston Baroque Performances
Mass in Bb, Harmoniemesse
March 6, 1992
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Nancy Armstrong, soprano
Eleanor Kelley, mezzo-soprano
Stanley Warren, tenor
David Ripley, bass-baritone
Missa brevis Sancti Joannis de Deo (Little Organ Mass)
Soprano solo (in Benedictus only)
Chorus (SATB)
Violins 1 & 2, basso continuo, organ (solo and continuo)
(A later adaptation has added winds)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
This beautiful, miniature mass is thought to come from Haydn's stay at Eisenstadt during the winter of 1777-78. He wrote it for the Brothers of Mercy, whose chapel in that town had a very fine small organ that is featured in this mass. He dedicated the work to the patron saint of their order, St. John of God (Sancti Joannis de Deo). The music calls for the limited forces that would have been available to him at the chapel: small chorus, strings without violas, and organ. Only in the Benedictus is there a soloist, one soprano who is accompanied by obbligato organ that was probably first played by Haydn himself. A surviving set of parts suggests that the mass was later adapted to add several wind parts, but it is normally played in its original, more intimate scoring.
The work is written in the tradition of the missa brevis, in which some of the lengthier parts of the text, particularly in the Gloria and Credo, are telescoped -- i. e. the four voices of the chorus sing different words of the text simultaneously. It does not make for a particularly intelligible text, but it does make the movements shorter, a trade-off that some worshipers in the freezing cold churches of the time may have found fair.
This small, intimate mass has always been popular, particularly in central Europe. It conjures up an image of the small country church of the Brothers of Mercy and the quiet, devotional character of their worship. As it ends, it turns inward and gradually dies away at the words dona nobis pacem ("grant us peace").
Boston Baroque Performances
Missa brevis Sancti Joannis de Deo (“Little Organ Mass”)
April 24, 1998
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloist:
Karyl Ryczek, soprano
Missa in Angustiis (Lord Nelson Mass)
Soloists: Soprano, alto, tenor, bass
Chorus: S-A-T-B
Orchestra: 3 trumpets, timpani, strings, organ
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In the summer of 1798, Haydn suffered from extreme exhaustion after having completed and premiered his great oratorio The Creation. On his doctor's orders, he was confined to his rooms, but confinement for Haydn meant that he had time to compose the mass that he needed to write for the name day of the Princess Esterházy, the wife of his patron. And thus, instead of the three months that it normally took him to write a mass, he was able to stay home and complete this work, one of his greatest compositions, in a little over one month. It is remarkable that a composer in his mid-60s, then considered an advanced age, could immediately follow a brilliant oratorio with a mass on an equally high level of inspiration.
Haydn called his mass Missa in Angustiis (Mass in a Time of Anxiety). In the previous year, Napoleon had defeated the Austrian armies and threatened Vienna, and then, in the summer of 1798, he had broken through the allied naval blockade and appeared ready to conquer Egypt. It was a tense and uncertain time, but in mid-September, about a week before Haydn's new mass was to be performed, word reached Vienna that the British Admiral Horatio Nelson had destroyed Napoleon's fleet in a brilliant victory at Aboukir. Exactly how or when Haydn's Missa in Angustiis became popularly known as the Lord Nelson Mass is something that no one even at that time was able to say for certain, but surely the first listeners would have associated the terrifying trumpets and timpani of the opening Kyrie and the jubilant, dramatic music that followed with the political turmoil -- and then the military victory -- that was on everyone's minds. Two years later, Haydn performed this work before the conquering hero himself during his visit to the Esterházy palace at Eisenstadt.
Composing masses for the name day of the princess was among the few obligations remaining to the aging Capellmeister in his later years. By this time, Haydn, who was widely celebrated as the greatest living composer, was no longer writing symphonies, piano sonatas or trios. Rather, he entered on a period that represented not only the pinnacle of his achievement as a composer but also a new direction, a period devoted mainly to a series of vocal masterworks. The Nelson Mass, written immediately after his oratorio The Creation, is the third of his six great masses written during this time.
Its orchestration is unusual and striking. In an effort to save money, Prince Nicolaus Esterházy had recently dismissed his woodwind players and horns, and Haydn was able to hire only trumpets and timpani to supplement his string ensemble. Occasionally, the organ -- which Haydn himself played at the premiere -- is given a brief solo passage, as if to compensate for the missing woodwinds. But out of this limited orchestration, Haydn created the stark, memorable sound that makes this mass so distinctive and powerful.
The strong, rhythmic D minor opening of the Kyrie establishes the tense tone of a work written "in angustiis," in a time of anxiety. In the Benedictus, we particularly feel this tension, when the trumpets and timpani repeat a powerful military rhythm, as the chorus intones its text on one note, an effect that conjures thoughts of the Last Judgment. However, much of the rest of the work is in a more joyful and brilliant D major. Throughout, Haydn creates a fascinating mix of Baroque-style counterpoint, still older Gregorian chant, and modern virtuosic writing in the lively string parts. For the opening of the Credo, the chorus sings a strict canon with two voice parts imitating each other at the interval of a fifth. The rigidity of the canon (the word meaning literally "rule" or "law") seems particularly apt for this strong declaration of faith. In the Et resurrexit, the chorus "speaks" a portion of its lengthy text, declaiming it on one repeated note, although here Haydn, who set his mass texts from memory, has apparently inadvertently omitted the words "qui ex Patre Filioque procedit.”
Despite the distinctive sonority of this Mass, there were some attempts made to "normalize" its orchestration by adding woodwinds and horns. Indeed Haydn made some suggestions to editors about how they might do this, but he did not supervise their work. An early edition published by Breitkopf during Haydn's lifetime, based on a pirated version that was full of errors, not only added a full complement of winds but also eliminated the organ solos and simplified the trumpet parts. In that form, the Mass became extremely popular. Although it is still often heard in this "normalized" version, Boston Baroque's performance follows the leaner, original orchestration of Haydn's manuscript.
Not long after the premiere of this mass, Haydn simplified -- and some say weakened -- several passages in the solo vocal parts, evidently in order to make them easier to sing for less accomplished soloists. In places, this involved lowering high notes and thus changing the contours of some of the melodic lines. Once again, it is preferable to follow the manuscript and sing the original vocal lines.
Boston Baroque Performances
Missa in Angustiis (“Lord Nelson Mass”)
April 20, 2013
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Mary Wilson, soprano
Abigail Fischer, mezzo-soprano
Keith Jameson, tenor
Kevin Deas, bass-baritone
February 21, 1986
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Pamela Dellal, mezzo-soprano
Jeffrey Thomas, tenor
James Maddalena, baritone
While not listed on the cover, Haydn’s Symphony No. 102 in Bb Major is also included in this CD.
Purchase Boston Baroque’s recording of Symphony No. 102 in Bb Major on Amazon
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Purchase Boston Baroque’s recording of Symphony No. 102 in Bb Major on Linn Records
Missa in tempore belli (Mass in Time of War)
Missa in tempore belli ("Paukenmesse")
Mass in Time of War ("Timpani Mass")
First performances: September 13 and December 26, 1796
Four vocal soloists (SATB)
Chorus (SATB)
Orchestra: 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings, organ
(flute added later)
Program Notes by Martin Pearlman
In 1796, when Haydn was composing this first of his six late masses, Europe was in turmoil. Napoleon's army was winning one battle after another in Italy and now threatened the entire continent. In August, the government in Vienna ordered its troops to be mobilized and prepared for war. Although Haydn was ostensibly writing a mass to celebrate the name day of the Princess Hermenegild of Esterhazy, the wife of his employer, he could hardly ignore the atmosphere all around him. While he did not often express political views, his title for this mass, Missa in tempore belli (Mass in Time of War), as well as its music reflect a sense of foreboding as Austria and its allies were about to face Napoleon.
This mass is thought to be the one that Haydn premiered on September 13, 1796 in Eisenstadt to commemorate the princess's name day. He then gave a public performance of it on December 26 of that year in suburban Vienna. Along with the Lord Nelson Mass, another work concerned with war, it has remained one of Haydn's most popular religious works. The nervous quality of the introductions to the first and last movements and the brilliant symphonic writing and military fanfares made this work a novel and moving experience for the apprehensive, patriotic audiences that heard the first performances.
The famous timpani solo near the beginning of the Agnus Dei creates a tone of apprehension, "as if one heard the enemy approaching in the distance," as one of Haydn's associates remarked. This passage, which was imitated by Beethoven in the Agnus Dei of his Missa Solemnis, gives the Mass in Time of War its popular nickname, the Paukenmesse, or Timpani Mass. The timpani solo is followed by terrifying trumpet fanfares, and military music then leads into an unusually forceful and urgent setting of "dona nobis pacem" ("grant us peace").
The dramatic, symphonic character of this last movement, as well as the beautiful virtuosic cello solo in the Gloria are among the features that offended some later critics, who found them too secular for a mass. But these were preconceptions about religion from a later age. Haydn would no doubt have been surprised at the controversy, since he himself was a devout Catholic. Rather, he has found a new way of treating the traditional mass text, one that looks forward more to Beethoven than it looks back to earlier settings.
When Haydn brought the work to Vienna, he augmented the orchestration, writing more extensive parts for the clarinets and horns and adding a flute to the orchestra. He evidently preferred this larger orchestration, since he kept it for the first printed edition.
The war against Napoleon continued throughout the remainder of Haydn's lifetime. Shortly before his death in 1809, Napoleon occupied Vienna, but war and culture were different from what we might expect today. One of Napoleon's first commands was to station a guard before the aged composer's house to protect him from danger. During Haydn's last days, a French officer came to visit him and sang for him an aria from his oratorio The Creation.
Boston Baroque Performances
Missa in Tempore Belli (“Mass in Time of War”)
February 22, 1991
NEC’s Jordan Hall, Boston, MA
Martin Pearlman, conductor
Soloists:
Sharon Baker, soprano
Lorraine Hunt, mezzo-soprano
Frank Kelley, tenor
Myron Myers, bass