Arnold Schoenberg - Complete Piano Music
Performed by Edward Steuermann - piano
The piano music of Arnold Schoenberg holds an especially significant place in his oeuvre. Every important change in style announced itself in compositions for "piano solo," as if to test the complete autonomy and self-sufficiency of the new works by resorting to this genre of the most absolute music - the most absolute music, as there are no words to explain, no colors to enhance, no dialectics of a chamber music ensemble to differentiate the expression or the meaning.
...
The novelty and originality of Schoenberg's piano style is often overlooked. It seems that in the post-romantic period there is hardly a composer, with the possible exception of Debussy, whose writing for piano is so personal and so intimately connected with the idea it has to express. The pianist is confronted with new problems. It is mainly the extremely scarce use of pedal which often deprives the sound of the romantic vibration for which the piano is known, and the polyphony requires the most exact differentiation by the use of all kinds of touch.
Even a master like Busoni, who was one of the first great musicians (and at this time almost the only one) to understand the importance of these works (Op. 11), thought it necessary to adjust one of the pieces to the more accepted piano sonority. (He recognized this as a mistake later on.) The reception by audiences and press was for a long time frosty or outright negative. But, by the time Op. 23 appeared, Schoenberg's name was world famous after the great success of some of the earlier works; one has learned now to listen with more confidence, trust, and devotion. (Edward Steuermann)
Tracklisting:
Side 1
1. Drei Klavierstuke, Op. 11 {13:02}
2. Funf Klavierstuke, Op. 23 {9:51}
Side 2
1. Sechs kleine Klavierstuke, Op. 19 {4:35}
2. Suite fur Klavier, Op. 25 {14:00}
3. Zwei Klavierstuke, Op. 33a and b {5:27}
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Arnold Schoenberg - Quintet for Wind Instruments, Op. 26
Performed by The Philadelphia Woodwind Quintet:
William Kincaid - flute
John de Lancie - oboe
Anthony Gigliotti - clarinet
Sol Schoenbach - bassoon
Mason Jones - French horn
Schoenberg's first two creative "periods" were both crowded into the sixteen years before the First World War. During this comparatively short space of time, he traversed such different styles as those of Verklarte Nacht, Op. 4, and Pierrot Lunaire, Op. 21 From 1914 to 1923, however, he published no music at all. It would almost surely be incorrect to suppose lying fallow during these years, and were to spring completely rejuvenated to loftier conceptions at their end. Actually, the time was spent in serving two rather brief stretches in the Austrian army, doing some literary writing, sketching the music for Die Jakobsleiter (an oratorio that he was never able to bring himself to complete), and teaching some of his best pupils.
Schoenberg was never a man to write music merely for the sake of doing something. He seems always to have felt that he must have something definite to say, and he preferred that that something should be fresh and new. In his later compositions, this general attitude caused him to avoid exact repetitions of his thematic materials. But in addition to this characteristic, there are reasons for supposing that by 1914 he had come to realize, consciously or unconsciously, that the freedom he had gained through espousing atonal music with its equal use of all twelve tones of the chromatic scale was simply not enough. Music may seem to flourish from a completely free use of fancy, but past centuries have demonstrated very conclusively that the difference between man-made music and that of the birds is that man prefers to work within the prescribed limitations of an organized system of tones.
At any rate, Schoenberg only started to compose once more when he moved to Modling near Vienna in 1920 and met Josef Matthias Hauer. Schoenberg has hotly maintained that he "invented" the row-technique and, conversely, that he was uninfluenced by Hauer, but those who were close to him during those years, notably Egon Wellesz, have admitted that this was not quite true. However much the row-technique differs from Hauer's Tropes and Grundgestalten, the idea of organizing the twelve tones according to some new principle, together with details of method and terminology, are sparks from Hauer that set Schoenberg's tinder once more in flame.
It is easy to see from the first compositions of this period that the technique had not matured during any previous "fallow" period. The five piano pieces of Opus 23 show a definite striving towards new types of organization, but only the last of them, Walzer, is completely realized in the row-technique. And even it uses the row in the most primitive fashion possible. There is a single 12-tone row, used only in its prime position without recourse to a mirror inversion, and only two statements of the crab of the row are introduced near the end of the piece by way of furnishing accompaniment. In the Serenade for baritone and seven instruments, Op. 24, the picture is not much different. Of its seven movements, the third, Variationen, is based on a theme of 14 notes (one of the twelve notes is omitted and three are repeated), and only the fourth movement, Sonett Nr. 217 von Petraca, uses the technique consistently. In both movements, the first regular use of the mirror inversion may be found, but still no transpositions of either the row or the mirror. Indeed, the baritone (who sings only in the fourth movement) must negotiate nearly thirteen straight statements of the prime row, varied only rhythmically and by occasional octave displacements of the notes.
With the Suite fur Klavier, Op. 25, the first use of a transposition occurs, but even here it is introduced for a special purpose. The row includes a tritone, G to D-flat, and Schoenberg inverts it about an axis that will produce the interval on the same two notes; he also transposes both row and mirror up a tritone, so that the same notes will also appear in these transpositions. Needless to say, the emphasis on these two notes make them predominate throughout the Suite, and Schoenberg has to display considerable ingenuity to restore the balance between his "twelve equal notes."
Thus only with the Wind Quintet, Op. 26, does Schoenberg's experimentation with the method reach its logical end and give us the first composition written with all of the resources that we now associate with the technique. This, of course, is not to say that for Schoenberg the Quintet marks the end of the road. It was, in fact, only a beginning, and periodically he instituted changes in the method to perfect it further. For example, in the Quintet he used the various transpositions merely to provide himself with different series of notes. Since they had no functional significance for him at this stage, he could use more than one transposition simultaneously. Starting with the Begleitungsmusik, Op. 34, however, the transpositions were treated exactly like keys. By using only one at a time, he could establish pitch-levels and build structures resembling the forms of classical music. What he gained thereby from the point of view of form, however, deprived him of a free use of the transpositions and lessened motility in the design of subtly varied themes. It is precisely this characteristic that is exemplified at its richest in the Wind Quintet, making it a work particularly worth close listening and study. (Richard S. Hill)
Tracklisting:
Side 1
1. Quintet for Wind Instruments, Op. 26: I. Schwungvoll {10:53}
2. Quintet for Wind Instruments, Op. 26: II. Ammutig und heiter; scherzando {11:50}
Side 2
1. Quintet for Wind Instruments, Op. 26: III. Etwas langsam (Poco Adagio) {10:25}
2. Quintet for Wind Instruments, Op. 26: IV. Rondo {9:33}
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Matachines Tarahumares - Tarahumara Matachin Music
released on LP in 1979
Recorded on the morning of January 6, 1979, with the Alta Tarahumara of the Sierra Madre Occidental, Chihuahua, Mexico, inside a church.
The Tarahumara - Raramuri or "Runners" in their own language - occupy the plateaus, valleys, and barrancas of Mexico's Sierra Madre Occidental in Western Chihuahua, Due mostly to the extreme ruggedness and isolation of their homeland, they have been left pretty much to their own devices since the mission days of colonial New Spain. In recent years the logging and tourist industries have made inroads into the Sierra, and Tarahumara crafts, if not the people themselves, have come to be somewhat familiar to interested city dwellers in Mexico and the United States. Their isolation is still a very real thing, however, and it has led to the preservation of a good deal of traditional Tarahumara life, complete with skills, activities, and world views which seem to have taken their present form in the years prior to 1800.
Like almost all of Mexico's Indians, the Tarahumara show evidence of the intense Christianization programs which were carried on under the auspices of the Spanish Crown by Catholic missionaries. Due to their isolation, Tarahumaras accepted less of European culture than did other groups, and adopted much of what they did accept to their own ancient patterns and preferences. The Spanish influences remain, however, and are very important in the music and dances which make up this record.
The Matachines dance is widespread throughout the area that once was Northwestern New Spain - an area which now lies on both sides of the recently imposed International Border between the United States and Mexico. It is a European ritual dance with New World details and flavor, and is found among both Indians and Spanish-descended populations. It is usually performed by two lines of men, to the music of such Old World instruments as violins, guitars, and harps. The dancers wear special costumes which often include headdresses, colorful shirts, and sashes tied round the body. The dance figures are reminiscent of such familiar secular dances as the Virginia Reel. These are not recreational or social dances, however; Matachines dance as an act of religious devotion. The dance can best be described as a prayer in motion, sound and color.
Matachines dances are an important part of the ceremonial year in many Tarahumara communities, especially in the eastern highland area where these recordings were made. They only appear at specific times, usually around December. In one community, for example, the Matachines start dancing at household fiestas in late November. They then appear at a big fiesta in the church on Our Lady of Guadalupe's Day, December 12. Other appearances may be made on Christmas and New Year's Eves. They appear for the last time to celebrate the Day of the Kings, Epiphany - which falls on January 6. Only during this brief period do the Matachines dance, and only at this time can one hear violin music in Tarahumara country.
The violin is the lead Matachina instrument. In fact, where this recording was made, only violins are used for the dance, although guitars are permitted in other communities. Since its introduction into the area by Jesuit missionaries, the violin has become an important Tarahumara instrument and their manufacture is a common household craft. All the violins heard here were homemade of local mountain woods. The instruments vary in size and tone, a feature which lends interest and variety to the ensemble music. They are held at an angle across the chest, in an archaic playing position. The usual tuning employed is CFGG, a deviation from the standard classical tuning. When there is a large group of fiddlers, as is the case on this record, they may play both in unison and in parts. One musician (not always the same one) will lead each tune.
There is a large body of Tarahumara Matachines tunes, concerning which outsiders still know almost nothing. There seems to be a different repertoire for each of four basic activities: dancing at private house fiestas, dancing in front of the church, dancing inside the church, and dancing in procession. Tunes vary in length from 5 to 6 minutes to as long as 30 minutes. This may be determined by the length and complexity of the figure being danced. In between tunes, the musicians may sit for five or more minutes, returning their instruments. Then one man will start to play, others will join him, and the dancing begins again.
There are from 20 to 30 dancers. They are dressed in a costume consisting of a loose-sleeved Tarahumara shirt, shoes and trousers (not normally items of Tarahumara apparel) and one or two embroidered capes over the shoulders. Several colorful bandana handkerchiefs are worn on the head, face, shoulders and waist. On each dancer's head is his crown or corona, constructed of a wood frame and covered with paper streamers and small reflectors. In his right hand he holds a rattle, which may be made locally of gourd or purchased in a store. In his left hand is the palma, a three-pronged wand with paper streamers attached. Each Matachina dances in total silence and concentration, timing his movements to coincide exactly with those of his fellows. On occasion, all stamp their booted feet on the ground - a sound that you can hear on the record.
Accompanying the Matachines at this fiesta were four leaders, or Chapeones. The chapeon is dressed in a normal Tarahumara costume of shirt, sash, breechcloth and sandals. He may carry a small coiled whip of office. His job is to gather the Matachines together and see that they do what is expected of them. The chapeones encourage the dancers with shrill falsetto cries which can be heard on the record and which add a special flavor to the musical experience. (Jim Griffith)
Tracklisting:
Side 1
1. track 1 {4:18}
2. track 2 {5:25}
3. track 3 {3:28}
4. track 4 {4:03}
5. track 5 {4:03}
Side 2
1. track 6 {6:42}
2. track 7 {14:58}
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Raymond Lewenthal - Toy Symphonies
LP released in 1975
Here is a record for the man who has everything. Music to wake up to. Music to surprise your friends with. Music for Christmas. Music for your children. A sugar-coated history lesson pill. An inquiry into the mores of bygone days.
Hear 'em and laugh!
But above all, here for once is happy music - frivolous, even silly, some will say... but who can deny its happiness? It was written for happy occasions, for a world that was prosperous, secure, and certain at a time when family life was the center of life and when music in the home was homemade. It comes from a time when the cracks in the plaster of society were scarcely noticeable to the naked eye.
This record is the evocation of an era: the 19th century; and a place: the home ... the comfortable home of the well-to-do bourgeois, where people had leisure but not so much money that they were too indolent or too preoccupied with the cares of supervising their fortunes to make their own entertainment, and had to resort to hiring it.
Long ago, a hundred years ago and more, anyone who studied anything studied music. It was part of one's education. One was expected to learn it as one was expected to learn the ABC's. One didn't study music only if one intended (perish the thought) to go into it as a profession, nor did one decide to go into it as a profession simply because one could play a scale decently or eke out a high tone (as is happening more and more today).
No ... music, drawing, letter writing, reciting poetry, these were all part of the general education of those classes which had any leisure for any kind of education at all ... adjuncts to a culture civilized life. Music in those days was part of all family occasions, from the quiet evenings at home to the big festive holiday reunions, when visiting relatives came from afar and the house was full to the brim with the laughter (well-mannered!) of children, the warmth of the hearth and all the happiness that humans are capable of in those periods when troubles, misery and sadness can be warded off, forgotten or hidden in cupboards. The only mechanical music available then was from the music box standing in a corner of the parlor. All other music had to be made. People lifted their voices in song, and created sounds with the aid of their lungs and their fingers. Composers were kept busy supplying music to fill all needs. For this world came most of the lieder of Schubert, Schumann and Brahms, most chamber music and four-hand piano music, and a good deal of the music written for two hands.
And for this world also came the music for this record. Here was music in which the whole family could participate ... the elders playing on "serious" instruments such as the piano, violin and cello, while the children took care of organized noise in the form of peeps, tweets, thumps and what have you. Sometimes the elders took all the parts, to the delectation of the children. Sometimes the children were advanced enough to manage everything, to the vast entertainment of doting grown-ups.
Thus, toy symphonies form a not inconsiderable literature. (The French called them Symphonies burlesques, or Foires des enfants [Children's Fairs]; the Germans called them Kindersymphonien, Children's symphonies.) Their popularity made them a lucrative business for publishers, who sold not only the music but the toy instruments as well. Toy symphonies go back quite a bit in time. Both Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Michael Haydn experimented with the idea, and it now seems to be pretty conclusively proven that "The Toy Symphony by Haydn" was actually written by Leopold Mozart. An inspiration for writing this kind of music came, in the 18th century, from the existence of a world famous toy industry in the mountains near Salzburg ... not far from Berchtesgaden (which, ironically later, became infamous as the eyrie of Adolf Hitler). During the long winter months the peasants, confined much of the time to their huts, manufactured all manner of musical toys ... bird calls, drums, rattles, whistles, toy trumpets and the like. The tradition of toy symphonies grew and flourished in the German-speaking countries throughout the 19th century and spread elsewhere, though never to the same extent.
One of my musical hobbies (I have many) has been the collection of Toy Symphonies. Those presented here are a culling from among the best of many. All these pieces were written lovingly, with imagination and with care and, given the built-in pitch limitations of the toys (cuckoos are rather single-minded), they contain delightful music. The parts for the toys are always written out very specifically. Nothing is ad libitum or left to chance. The players are expected to follow all the rhythms and markings with scrupulous attention and the works only really sound well when played with the same care with which they were written.
The first time I conducted a toy symphony was for a gala benefit a few years ago in Newport, the famous summer gathering place of old-time American wealth. The concert took place in the hundred-room "cottage" of the Vanderbilts, The Breakers. The toys, tea trays and glass bowls were manned (or rather, womaned) by pillars of Newport dowagerdom. These formidable ladies took their work very seriously and were a most conscientious orchestra. At the concert they covered themselves with glory (and made only a minimum of wrong entrances). Other toy performances which I have led, numbering among the performers some well-known musicians, have sometimes been on a less high artistic level due to the fact that some of the professional players seemed to have had more difficulty counting correctly than my Newport dowagers!
In Newport there was, however, one major disaster. Before the first rehearsal a tour of the grand homes was made for the purpose of auditioning glass bowls, in order to find one which had the proper pitch and timbre. The lady entrusted with the very important glass-bowl part, while an excellent musician, had not yet mastered the technique of managing the bass-drum stick which was to make the bowl ring forth in all its glory. In one of the grandest homes, she swung her drum stick with a trifle too much vigor and shattered into a thousand sparkling splinters a very large, very expensive and very precious crystal bowl ... thereby almost putting an end to toy symphonies in Newport. (Raymond Lewenthal)
Pieces:
Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C, for piano, two violins & cello with nightingale, cuckoo, toy trumpet, drum, ratchet, bell tree, glass bell & tea tray - composed by Carl Reinecke
Adagio & Finale from the Toy Symphony, for piano, violin & cello with cuckoo, nightingale, fairy bells, sleighbells, triangle, toy trumpet, drum, bass drum & cymbals - composed by Franklin Taylor
Kitchen Symphony, Op. 445, for piano with trumpet, funnel trumpet, wine glass, bottle, saucepan, fire irons, milk jug & tin covers - composed by Henri Kling
Three Bacchanales, Op. 53, for piano with tambourine & triangle - composed by Daniel Steibelt
Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C, Op. 169, for piano, violin & cello with quail, cuckoo, nightingale, triangle, toy trumpet & drum - composed by Cornelius Gurlitt
Ouverture Burlesque, for piano and violin with three mirlitons, triangle, toy trumpet, drum, ratchet and whistle - composed by Etienne-Nicolas Mehul
Performers:
Raymond Lewenthal - conductor, piano
Nathan Ross - violin
Marshall Sosson - violin (tracks 1-4, Side 1)
Eleanor Aller - cello
Malcolm McNab - trumpets
Tom Raney (including solo tambourine), Hubert Anderson, Larry Bunker, Richie Lepore, Wally Snow, George Sponhaltz - toy instruments and percussion
Tracklisting:
Side 1
1. Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C: I. Allegro un poco maestoso {5:38}
2. Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C: II. Andantino {5:44}
3. Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C: III. Moderato {1:42}
4. Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C: IV. Steeple Chase (Molto vivace) {1:42}
5. Adagio from the Toy Symphony {5:17}
6. Finale from the Toy Symphony {5:49}
Side 2
1. Kitchen Symphony, Op. 445 {5:49}
2. Three Bacchanales, Op. 53 {4:21}
3. Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C, Op. 169: I. Allegro con fuoco {4:28}
4. Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C, Op. 169: II. Scherzo (Poco vivace) {3:11}
5. Toy Symphony (Kindersymphonie) in C, Op. 169: III. Rondo burlesco (Allegro, non troppo) {3:57}
6. Ouverture Burlesque {4:12}
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