Reminiscences of Ernst, or The Carnival of Venice Fantasy, op.126

Johann Strauss (Elder)

Descended from a family of Hungarian roots, Johann (Baptist) Strauss, the eldest of a family of gifted composers and dance-ensemble leaders, was born in Vienna on March 14, 1804 and died there on September 25, 1849. Although his musical career was slow to develop, by 1833 he was lauded as “the Mozart of the waltz, the Beethoven of the cotillons, the Paganini of the galop, the Rossini of the potpourri.” The composer in all of these dance genres, Strauss’s Reminiscences of Ernst, or The Carnival of Venice Fantasy was composed around 1840.

After a march-like introduction, we hear the popular tune played by the violins, followed by several clever variations that highlight the virtuosity of individual members of the orchestra. The solos for piccolo, solo string bass, violin (with humorous touches in the bassoon), are particularly amusing.

Konzertstück for Four Horns and Orchestra, op. 86

Robert Schumann

The great German romantic composer and critic, Robert Schumann was born in Zwickau, Saxony, June 8, 1810 and died in Endenich, near Bonn, July 29, 1856. Although best known for his works for the piano, the breadth of his compositions extends far beyond that category. Among his works for orchestra he composed four symphonies and several concertos, including his popular Concerto for Piano, Op. 54. Less familiar, however, are two concertos for violin, one for cello, and the present work, his Konzertstück for Four Horns, composed in 1849, and first performed on February 25, 1850 at the Leipzig Gewandhaus under the direction of Julius Rietz. The soloists were members of the Gewandhaus Orchestra’s horn section. In addition to the quartet of soloists, the work is scored for piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns ad libitum, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, and strings.

It is fair to say that the horn (Ger. Waldhorn) was the quintessential instrument of German Romanticism. One reason for this is the fact that this instrument was the musical symbol for hunting (Jagd). More than mere sport, hunting was the most vital part of German culture and economy—a means of putting food on the table throughout the land. Many representations of the horn’s significance may be found in literature, for example in the title of Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano’s anthology of poetry, Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Carl Maria von Weber’s landmark opera, Der Freischütz (1821), features horns prominently in its overture and Chorus of Hunters.

Robert Schumann was hardly immune to the call of this instrument. His Adagio and Allegro, Op. 70 for horn and piano was composed in 1849, the same year he composed his Konzertstück [Concert Piece] for Four Horns and Orchestra, op. 86. This year also witnessed his Jagdlieder, Op. 137 for men’s choir and four horns. A concerto in all but name, the Konzertstück is a tour de force for the instrument that explores the sound and color of the natural horn, as well as the emerging valved instrument. The work comprises three movements: Lebhaft (Lively), Romanze. Ziemlich langsam, doch nicht schleppend (Rather slow, but without dragging), and Sehr lebhaft (Very lively).

Symphony in C Major

Georges Bizet

Few works in the symphonic repertoire can match Bizet’s Symphony in C for sheer verve of expression and spontaneity of tunefulness. Bizet penned this work at the age of 17, while a student of Charles Gounod at the Paris Conservatory, and whose own Symphony in D he had been transcribing for his teacher at the time. Naturally, the influence of Gounod may be discerned by those who know this work, but the spirit of Schubert, whose music Bizet may have known only to a limited sense in 1855--the year in which he composed this Symphony--speaks even more directly to audiences today. Bizet was a precocious talent who stemmed from a family where his abilities were highly encouraged. Admitted to the Conservatory at the tender age of ten, Bizet’s Symphony in C easily represents the finest work of his youth. One can hardly be blamed for forming a comparison with another, and earlier, composer who produced one of his first masterpieces at the same age as Bizet’s Symphony--Felix Mendelssohn and his Overture to Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Bizet cast this work in the classical four movement design, opening with a spirited Allegro vivo in sonata form. The energetic opening theme is based on a rising and falling arpeggiated chord that allows the composer ample opportunity for clever developments. The lyrical second theme, however, is so nicely self-contained (a Schubertian trait) that Bizet has little choice but to repeat it in new keys and orchestrations. An early sign of maturity is that the listener rarely tires of this theme’s repetitions. The second movement, Adagio, offers the contrast of the key of A Minor (although, interestingly enough, it begins with a progression that starts in F Major). A repeated dotted pattern in the winds prefigures the evocative--even exotic--principal melody of the movement, which is sung in long phrases by the solo oboe. Again the ghost of Schubert may be discerned, especially the second movement of the Viennese master’s Symphony no. 9 (“Great”). The middle section of Bizet’s slow movement shows that the composer had been paying close attention to his counterpoint lessons at the Conservatory, as it features a finely-wrought fugato. But what one remembers most distinctly from this Adagio is the haunting oboe tune. The Scherzo is a whirling Allegro vivace that again is reminiscent of Schubert. The trio section is particularly piquant because of the bagpipe-like drones and modal (Lydian) inflections of the melody. The opening theme of the finale is a perpetual motion, Allegro vivace, which, as was the case with the first movement, is balanced by a tuneful second theme. Bizet found occasion in later years to make further use of these themes in the entr’acte of his opera, Don Procopio.

In recent years, Bizet’s Symphony in C has been quite popular with concert audiences, as well as aficionados of ballet, even though the composer surely never intended it to be used for dancing. For reasons that are not entirely clear, Bizet never made any effort to have his Symphony performed or published. Perhaps he feared that Gounod, and the Parisian public, would accuse him, at best, of lack of originality, or, at worst, plagiarism. The manuscript did not surface until, in 1935, Bizet’s biographer D. C. Parker of Glasgow, discovered it in the archives of the Paris Conservatory. Parker showed the manuscript to Felix von Weingartner, who conducted the premiere of it in Basel on 26 February 1935. Universal Edition of Vienna promptly published the first edition of the work in that same year. We may for one last time evoke the ghost of Schubert, whose own popular work, the Symphony no. 8 (“Unfinished”), also went unpublished and unperformed until long after his death.

Overture to Orpheus in the Underworld 

Jacques Offenbach/Carl Binder

A French composer of German origin, Jacques Offenbach was born in Cologne on June 20, 1819, and died in Paris on October 5, 1880. His Les contes d’Hoffmann (The Tales of Hoffmann) remains one of the world’s most popular operas. Not unlike the Strauss family of Austria, Offenbach’s music, especially his operettas, achieved great popularity, laying the groundwork for the works of Gilbert and Sullivan in England, and paving the way for 20th century musicals. His operetta, Orphée aux enfers, was composed in 1858 to a text by Hector Crémieux and Ludovic Halévy. It was first performed at the Théâtre des Bouffes-Parisiens on October 21, 1858. The composer revised and expanded its two acts into a four-act version, first performed at the Paris’ Théâtre de la Gaîté on February 7, 1874. The overture, with its famous can-can, we now know, was not composed by Offenbach, but was the work of the Austrian Carol Binder (1816-1860) for a Viennese performance in 1860. Nevertheless, most of its music is derived from excerpts from the two versions of Offenbach’s opera. The overture is scored for piccolo, flute, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trompets, 3 trombones, tuba (originally ophicleide), timpani, percussion, harp, and strings.

There is scarcely a concert-goer alive who has not delighted in the strains of the overture to Offenbach’s comedy, Orpheus in the Underworld (Orphée aux enfers). Far from the seriousness of the myth celebrated in the operas by Claudio Monteverdi and Christoph Willibald Gluck, Offenbach’s opera is a spoof in which the demigod is turned into a violin teacher. The Overture (not by Offenbach, but comprising excerpts from his opera) is pure fun beginning with its rousing opening that leads into the more plaintive solos for clarinet and oboe. All of this is but prelude to a lyric melody for the solo cello, soon taken up by the woodwinds, and punctuated by arpeggios in the harp. The serenity is interrupted by a more sinister tone, but this passes quickly, yielding to a sublime solo violin (did Richard Strauss learn something from this when penning Der Rosenkavalier?). The entire orchestra gets caught up in the violin’s tune. But the pièce de resistance comes at the entrance of the famous and rousing “galop infernal” (can-can), music which itself is the unofficial theme of the Moulin Rouge and the demimonde of 19th-century Paris, celerated more recently in Baz Lurhmann’s 2001 film of the same name starring Nicole Kidman, Ewan McGregor, and John Leguizamo.