Sticky Notes: The Classical Music Podcast

You might be wondering: why on earth would I choose a piece that is literally called "Dissonance" when I was looking for something a bit simpler or cleaner to talk about on the show today? Actually, Mozart's Dissonance quartet, probably his most famous and beloved quartet, was not called "Dissonance" by Mozart, and the rest of the piece is thought of as one of Mozart's most outgoing and cheerful works, though I think there's a bit more to it than that. This quartet was part of a set of quartets dedicated to his friend and mentor Joseph Haydn, the father of the String Quartet. Upon their publication, Mozart wrote to Haydn: "Behold here, famous man and dearest friend, my six children. They are, to be sure, the fruit of long and arduous work, yet some friends have encouraged me to assume that I shall see this work rewarded to some extent at least, and this flatters me into believing that these children shall one day offer me some comfort." The final one of this set of six quartets is the one we're going to talk about today, the one that has been dubbed "Dissonance." This single dissonance caused massive controversy in its time, which we'll get to later, but it is a fascinating insight into the rules of harmony at the time. Our sojourns into late Romanticism over the last few weeks, and especially my conversation with Case Scaglione about Wagner and the Tristan Chord, should help us understand the intensely heated debates that arose over that chord I just played you. So today on the show, we'll spend some time on that famous dissonance, then dive right into this glorious quartet, exploring Mozart's unparalleled ability to write the most glorious melodies and the most perfect harmonies. Recording: Alban Berg Quartet First Sight Analysis: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IctjJOMU9dk Produced by: Charlie Koczela

Thank you to Jerry for sponsoring today's episode on Patreon! Goethe's Faust is considered to be the greatest work of German literature. This sprawling, 2-part play occupied Goethe's life for nearly 60 years, from its original version, begun in 1772, all the way to Goethe's final revisions before his death. It inspired just about every Romantic era composer who came after it, including Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, Berlioz, Gounod, Mahler, and our subject for the show today, Franz Liszt. Liszt, who was in many ways the world's first pop star, was initially skeptical of Faust, saying that he couldn't relate to the eponymous main character of the play. He wrote: "Faust's personality scatters and dissipates itself; he takes no action, lets himself be driven, hesitates, experiments, loses his way, considers, bargains, and is interested in his own little happiness." But slowly, Liszt began to be taken in by this remarkable play and decided to try his hand at a reflection on it, writing a massive, 3-movement, 75-minute-long symphony that never attempts to tell the story of Faust, but instead reflects on the psychological nature of the 3 central characters: Faust, Gretchen, and Mephistopheles (the Devil). A lot of English-speaking listeners will know this as the story of a man who sold his soul to the devil, but for Goethe it was much more than that, and it was for Liszt as well. I've never talked about Liszt on the show, because frankly I've never been in love with his music. But this is one of the great things that these Patreon-sponsored episodes can do — help me discover pieces that I've never come across before. So today, we're going to talk about Liszt, Faust, and then take a stab at some of the greatest moments in this symphony. We'll talk about thematic transformation, a technique Liszt essentially invented and which is a vital part of understanding this piece.

This is a continuation of my new series where I learn about a new piece from a great friend/musician. This week I'm thrilled to welcome Case Scaglione, the Music Director of the Orchestre National D'Ile de France, for a discussion of the Prelude and Liebestod from Wagner's Tristan and Isolde. This is one of the most beloved pieces in the entire repertoire, and my longtime skepticism of Wagner has always kept me away. But Case has such a beautiful way of talking about Wagner that I might very well be convinced to give it another shot! This is a really fun and also philosophical episode - I hope you enjoy it! https://open.spotify.com/track/3HcRU6WhAZ6ZON9tFhanJv?si=4cf47cfde06a4434 https://open.spotify.com/track/7AtzmeOGG4PdXcfoVklSo1?si=69034a5a52704929

Nowadays it's hard to imagine Maurice Ravel as a "bad-boy" revolutionary, a member of a group whose name can be loosely translated as The Hooligans. To most listeners today, Ravel's music is the very picture of sumptuous beauty. But the group he belonged to, Les Apaches ("The Hooligans"), earned its name because of its members' uncompromising attitudes about music; attitudes that clashed sharply with the conservative tastes of the establishment. Another composer who belonged to Les Apaches was the Spanish composer Manuel de Falla. Falla is certainly not as well known as Ravel, but the two became fast friends when he arrived in Paris in 1907. They formed a kind of mutual-admiration society that proved immensely fruitful for both of them. Falla was deeply impressed by Ravel's Spanish-inflected music, marveling at its authenticity given that Ravel was French. But Ravel, now a symbol of French music, was the son of a Swiss father and a Spanish-speaking mother, and he was born just eleven miles from the Spanish border in the Basque region. His Spanish voice was no affectation; it came from somewhere deep within, and Falla noticed this immediately, remarking that Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole was "a Spain ideally presented by his mother." Today on the show we'll explore the Spanish world of Falla and Ravel through two central works: Falla's Nights in the Gardens of Spain and Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole. These pieces, both astonishing in their creativity and craftsmanship, offer a wonderful opportunity to compare and contrast the music and approaches of these two close friends. We'll also talk about Les Apaches and their goals, legacy, and some of their legendary members. All this and more is coming up on this final collaboration on Ravel and Friends with G. Henle Publishers! Join us!

There are so many great apocryphal stories in the long history of classical music, from the reason Tchaikovsky wrote his Sixth Symphony to what famous composers supposedly said on their deathbeds, to my favorite story: how Joseph Haydn's Symphony No. 96, The Miracle, got its name. Apparently, during the premiere of the symphony, a chandelier fell, but miraculously didn't hit anyone. Hence, The Miracle Symphony. The chandelier did, in fact, fall, but we now know it happened during the premiere of Haydn's Symphony No. 102, which has no nickname. Coincidentally, or perhaps not so coincidentally, the 96th Symphony is performed far more often than the 102nd, likely because of its nickname, even though it's the nickname of the wrong symphony. The Barber Violin Concerto has a great and true story behind it. But before certain information was revealed in 2010, the story everyone knew was quite different. The original version goes like this: Barber had completed the first two movements of his Violin Concerto and sent them to the soloist scheduled to premiere the work, Iso Briselli. Briselli didn't like the concerto, claiming it wasn't virtuosic enough, and asked Barber to write something more difficult. Barber, perhaps with an evil laugh, obliged and returned with the third movement. When Briselli received it, he realized he couldn't play it because of its extreme difficulty and ultimately withdrew from the premiere, which instead went to violinist Albert Spalding. It's a perfect "Icarus flying too close to the sun" kind of classical music story, but as it turns out, it isn't the full story. In 2010, letters were released between Barber, Briselli, and the real instigator in this little operetta, Briselli's violin teacher, Albert Meiff. I'll get into the whole story later, but it's a good one, even if it's not quite as cinematic as the legend. More important than the dispute over its last movement is the remarkable beauty and creativity of this masterful 20th-century concerto. Barber's Violin Concerto is one of my favorite pieces to play and to conduct, and it has charmed audiences ever since its premiere. It features Americana music of a kind only Copland could equal, as well as a heartbreaking oboe solo that might be one of the greatest moments in the history of American classical music. And then there's that pesky third movement, a challenge to every violinist (and orchestra) and a movement that remains controversial for many reasons.

The great Polish composer Witold Lutoslawski said this after the premature death of his contemporary Grazyna Bacewicz: "She was born with an incredible wealth of musical talent, which she succeeded to bring to full flourish through an almost fanatical zeal and unwavering faith in her mission. The intensity of her activities was so great that she managed, in a cruelly-shortened life, to give birth to such treasures that any composer of her stature with a considerably longer life span could only envy." Bacewicz is a name that is probably not that familiar to you, but during her lifetime she was an extremely popular composer in her native Poland and across Europe as well. In the United States, her music has been rarely performed, though this has started to shift thanks to a renewed interest in female composers of the past. This new look at Bacewicz has revealed an incredible wealth of music. Bacewicz was one of the most prolific composers of the 20th century, writing over 200 works during her short lifetime! Some call her style neo-classical, but the main thing that I hear in her music is a sharp originality that permeates her music and makes her compositions a thrill to listen to. The vitality, energy, and creativity that embodies Bacewicz's works will be the main part of the show today, as we'll go through a set of some of her most representative pieces, pieces that I hope will enter the standard repertoire of performers all over the world even more so than they already have. So join me today to explore the life and music of this unfamiliar but vital 20th century master!

For a long time I've received emails and messages from people asking, and sometimes demanding, that I explore the solo piano repertoire. Other than a look at the Goldberg Variations of Bach, I've basically neglected a huge amount music, including some of the greatest works ever written. Why have I been doing this? Well, if I'm totally honest, it's been slightly out of a sense of intimidation. I'm not a pianist, and I've always been somewhat in awe of the piano and pianists. Even after spending years with this music, I still felt that I just simply didn't know the solo piano repertoire well enough to do it justice. Well, now that I've gone through ALMOST all of the symphonic standard repertoire, and now that I've started exploring the string quartet repertoire, I think it's time to throw off this sense of awe and dive right in. You might think I might not reach too high to start off, maybe an early Beethoven sonata, or a Mozart or Haydn Sonata. Well, in my opinion you've got to go big or go home, so I've decided to explore one of the towering masterpieces not only of the solo piano genre, but of all music, Schubert's Sonata in B Flat Major. This is a piece that has been described as "well-nigh perfect," as "beyond analysis," as including "the most extraordinary trill in the history of music," and as "the climax and apotheosis of Schubert's instrumental lyricism and his simplicity of form." These are just a few of the superlatives I've found in researching this piece. It was written in the last weeks of Schubert's short life, and it truly does take the listener on an unforgettable journey. There is nothing quite like Schubert's final works, and so over the next two episodes, I will take you through this remarkable sonata, a piece that Alex Ross has described as "a premature communication from the beyond." This is a huge piece, with so much to talk about, so I've split this episode into two parts. This week we'll look at the first movement, and then in two weeks we'll cover the final three movements. Join us!