Korean Concert Society - Program Notes

Beethoven’s works for cello & piano, like his string quartets, fall into the three periods (early, middle, late) that we use as convenient categories of his output. In the first group are the two sonatas of Op. 5, and three sets of variations. Next comes his monumental Sonata in A, Op. 69, and then finally the two cryptic, late sonatas of Op. 102. Two of the sets of variations are on themes from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte, the later of which is heard tonight, based on the Act I duet that Papageno sings with Pamina, Bei Männern. It was composed in 1801, and, though published the following year in Vienna, was apparently not deemed significant enough for an opus number. The two earlier sets (composed in 1796) both had 12 variations; the present work has only seven, but is much more deep and substantive. Rather than rattling through a string of brief, single-idea episodes, this set presents seven miniature tone poems, with marvelous opportunities for the cello to show how it can sing.

Schumann was conscientious in all he did. He edited a magazine, was director of an orchestra, wrote pedagogical works (both musical and prose), and studied the past masters industriously his entire life. When rehearsing his “Spring” symphony, in 1849, he realized that his writing for the winds was unschooled and sometimes awkward. He immediately set to work on a series of solo works for horn, oboe, and clarinet, determined to capture the instruments’ true character. He succeeded in one way – the works were effective and touching – and could be said to have failed in another – while idiomatic, they were nonetheless easily adapted to other instruments.

Cellists have eagerly expropriated the charming Fantasiestücke Op. 73 for clarinet, and the even-more-sublime Adagio und Allegro Op. 70 for horn, heard tonight. Leonard Rose said he could not play the opening phrase of this work without tears coming to his eyes, and most of the major cellists (Starker, Casals, Fournier, Ma, etc.) have recorded it. Rostropovich performed it in his Kennedy Center recital debut, in 1972.

The Adagio introduction plunges immediately into the most poignant emotional state possible; in four short minutes we seem to have taken a journey through Schumann’s entire soul. The Allegro which follows immediately is an impetuous rondo, with a descending hunting-call theme that profiles the French horn perfectly.

Yun had an eventful and harrowing life. After showing musical promise as a youngster, he eventually went to Tokyo for advanced musical studies, in the early 1940’s. While in Japan, he took part in underground activities against the Japanese occupation of Korea, which led to a two-year imprisonment. After his release, he settled in Germany but continued his music studies in Darmstadt, Switzerland, alongside iconoclastic artists such as Boulez, Stockhausen, and Henze. While in Germany, he was openly sympathetic to North Korean’s nationalistic and self-deterministic political doctrines, which angered the South Korean government. In 1967, he was secretly brought back to South Korea, imprisoned, and sentenced to death, for treason, by the ruling military dictatorship. An international outcry and diplomatic intervention by the German government secured his release, and he was allowed to return to Germany after two years in prison. In the early 70’s he was appointed to a professorship at the prestigious Berlin Hochshule fűr Musik.

South Korea prohibited public performance of his music until 1992 and he was never permitted to return. North Korea, however, founded the Yun Isang Music Institute in 1984 in Pyongyang, to study and perform his work. Today, both South and North Korea warmly embrace his legacy and his music is performed widely all over the world.

Nore (literally “song”) was composed, in Germany, in 1964. It does not hew to the rigid serialism that marked the work of many of the Darmstadt composers. While the harmonic language and jagged intervals recall Webern, there are tonal-sounding motifs that recur along the way. The instruments maintain their own distinct lines – there are no shared motifs between them – but blend and complement one another in highly creative, stylized ways. Yun manages to invoke the spirit of his homeland in the midst of the thickly-dissonant “modern” European language, the cello line often alternating between long, sustained notes and sharp, declamatory gestures with many trills.

Laderman studied with Stefan Wolpe and Otto Luening. He has taught at Sarah Lawrence College and SUNY-Binghamton, and from 1989 to 1995 was Dean of the Yale School of Music. His tonal language combines tonal and atonal elements, but overall his music is quite romantic in form and approach. He uses experimental styles within traditional forms (ten string quartets so far, a violin sonata, sets of variations, etc.) and always seeks to communicate a sense of human drama through his music. The Fantasy For Cello, Laderman’s third work for solo cello, was written in 1998 for Patrick Jee, who was still a student at Yale at the time. It is an immensely difficult work, composed with a young, confident virtuoso in mind. In its substantial quarter-hour, the composer ingeniously exploits the instrument’s many facets and characters. There are undulating, yearning melodies that reach to the top of the instrument; rapid pizzicato passages recalling a jazz bass; and some complicated implied polyphony that recalls the great unaccompanied works of Bach and Britten. The ear is constantly tickled with a procession of different styles and techniques. This is a major addition to the solo cello repertoire, heard in its Washington premiere tonight. Mr. Jee’s performance is available on CD on the Albany Records label.

Franck’s instrument was the organ (he was professor of organ at the Paris Conservatoire), and he wrote very little chamber music. It consists of one piano trio, one piano quintet, a single string quartet, and tonight’s sonata. The Sonata in A was written in 1886, originally for violin, a wedding present to his countryman Eugene Ysaÿe. It was immediately transcribed (but not transposed) for cello by another Belgian, Jules Delsart, and the existence of a copy signed by Franck indicates the composer’s approval.

Franck sought to adapt the thematic transformation techniques of Liszt and Wagner to smaller instrumental works. In this sonata, each of the principal themes is heard in at least two of the four movements, and most of them are similarly-shaped. This extraordinary thematic cohesion across the entire work is both a strength and a weakness; the piece has a remarkable organic quality, but at times the listener can become disoriented. However, Franck takes care that all of the strands are pulled convincingly together at the end.

The first movement is wistful and meandering, in sonatina form, but in the character of an introduction. Curiously, the soaring second theme, in the relative minor, is played exclusively by the piano. The stormy Allegro that follows contains contrasting passages in a much broader style. The movement almost comes to a stop at one point before a slow, dramatic climb to a thrilling close. The Recitativo-Fantasia, as the title implies, is a free-form movement that introduces quietly what will become the climactic trumpet call near the close of the finale. The finale features a theme derived from that of the first movement, but stated canonically. As noted, all the themes of the sonata are woven together somewhere in the finale, though many of them have been transformed along the way. The brilliant final pages end one of the great sonatas of the literature in rousing fashion.

Martinu, the greatest Czech composer since Dvorak, although not a cellist himself, composed prolifically for the instrument: three sonatas with piano; two concertos and a Concertino for cello and wind ensemble; and numerous short works, of which the charming Rossini Variations is by far the best-known.

The work was composed here in the US during World War II, and is based on a theme from the opera Moses, which Paganini had also used in his famous set of variations to be played on the G-string alone. The theme is a slightly comical one, and the four variations are themselves slightly comical; off-balance, if you will. Like its predecessor by Paganini, this work is a virtuoso romp, calling for utmost aplomb throughout the full range of the instrument, but with particularly challenging bow techniques. Given a proper “deadpan” performance, the piece is both amusing and astounding.

Seven Variations on “Bei Mannern, Welche Liebe Fuhlen” from Mozart’s Die Zauberflote, WoO 46	Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Nore (1964)	Isang Yun (1917-1995)
Adagio and Allegro, Op. 70	Robert Schumann (1810-1856)
Fantasy for Solo Cello (1998)	Ezra Laderman (b.1924)
INTERMISSION
Sonata in A Major	Cesar Franck (1822-1890)
Allegretto ben moderato Allegro Recitativo-Fantasia Allegretto poco mosso
Variations on a Theme by Rossini	Bohuslav Martinu (1890-1959)