Enjoy this deep-dive into the compositions on Sunday’s program, then make your reservation to join us at the CMW Center!
José Manuel Joly Braga Santos: Concerto for Strings in D
Notes by Jesse Holstein
A highly accessible work, the first movement opens forcefully with a stately, muscular theme in the violins atop insistent pounding below in the lower strings. A spaciousness opens up and we hear Kimberly, Miguel, and Sebastian singing out a melancholy tune that seems to pay homage to Ralph Vaughn Williams or Big Ralph (as he was not called by anyone). The tempo quickens with a recycled snippet from the opening theme and we are off on a frenetic and determined scamper. Akin to a Baroque Concerto Grosso, the solo violin and cello emerge from the texture prior to the movement’s impassioned and lyrical second theme. After a brief development and recapitulation, the movement closes quietly with three pizzicatos by guest artist Justin McCarty on the double bass.
The second movement opens with a repetitive march-like dirge that sets up a somber and heartfelt violin theme. This movement was actually played at the composer’s own funeral in 1988. The procession pauses briefly in the middle of the movement for an emotional release before returning to the elegaic march from the beginning. This time, we hear the melody sung by a solitary viola and some elegant variations in the second violins.
The English influence is again unmistakable in the final movement. A country dance skips across the landscape in a sunny D-major. Something is a bit peculiar however as Santos chooses a meter of 5 beats per bar instead of the customary 2 or 4, giving the musical flow a unique lilt. Written in a rondo (or refrain) form, Santos has some fun deconstructing the melody harmonically and rhythmically in the episodes between the statements of the main theme. An acceleration and drive to the end closes a very satisfying work by an unjustly unknown voice.
Hawa Kassé Mady Diabaté: Tegere Tulon
Notes by Professor Lucy Durán
Tegere Tulon revisits the handclapping songs of Hawa Diabaté’s childhood, which were such formative experiences for her, and which are gradually dying out except in remote villages. Performed exclusively by girls outdoors in a circle, usually on moonlit nights, the handclapping songs are normally very short, consisting of one or two phrases repeated in call and response, often involving counting, each one with its own dance. Children make them up spontaneously, using the rhythms of language to generate musical rhythm, with playful movements, some individual, some coordinated by the whole circle.
Building on her own memories of the handclapping songs she used to do as a young girl in Kela, Hawa has created four new pieces in handclapping style, which she hopes will encourage Malians not to abandon this rich cultural heritage. The lyrics are humorous and poignant—they talk about the importance of family, the teasing relationship between kalime “cross-cousins” (a man’s children and his sister’s children are cross-cousins), a girl who loves dancing so much she falls into a well and then climbs out, and how long it takes to get to Funtukuru, her husband’s village, where she went to film handclapping.
Read the full program notes here
Merlijn Twaalfhoven: Play
Artist statement by the composer
“What is music making? Is it high performance? Or can it be … play? Is it the delivery of an achievement with set expectations or can it be open to the moment, challenge the players and connect everybody?
In the classical music of today, the separation of performer and listener is very strict and clear. We might forget how for centuries (and still today, outside the conventional concert halls), music was the most effective way to connect, to create together, to participate, to play. Both in religious service as in celebrations or ritual, music establishes a sense of unity.
Today, our society is fragmented and divided. Can musicians play a role to create new forms of connectedness and community? In this composition, I invite all people that are present to contribute and … to play.”
Play and Tegere Tulon were composed for 50 For The Future: The Kronos Learning Repertoire. Learn more about the project here
Antonín Dvořák: Piano Quintet
Notes by Jesse Holstein
Atop the gentle lilt of the piano, a most lyrical and touching opening theme in the cello begins our journey. Suddenly, a dramatic emotional and harmonic pivot injects a serious and rhythmic energy to the narrative. Written in the customary sonata-form, the wistful second theme is introduced by the viola before being picked up by others. Dvořák’s ability to present both themes through multiple emotional hues is on full display in this large-scale movement. After a development section playing with both principal themes, a recapitulation and a monumental coda bring this deeply rewarding first chapter to a close.
Part of the confidence that Dvořák found with his acceptance by Brahms and Simrock, and subsequently the musical establishment, was the courage to be himself and to celebrate his Bohemian heritage. The middle two movements of the quintet pay homage to his background with two of his favorite Czech dances as the vehicles: a stately and elegant Dumka followed by a scampering Furiant. The second movement Dumka follows a customary roadmap of quicker, more upbeat interludes between the somber main theme. It is none other than the viola (one of his primary instruments) that presents the Dumka theme at the outset.
While the third movement is marked Scherzo, Dvořák parenthetically added Furiant to the title. While it lacks some of the usual rhythmic idiosyncrasies of a traditional Furiant, the intent is to possibly inject some Furiant-like energy into the mix after the elegiac Dumka. The trio captures a wonderfully spacious nostalgia that ironically employs some of the rhythmic characteristics of a typical quick Furiant before the return to the quicker opening material.
The finale opens with a bristling expectancy before a most satisfied and joyous melody in the first violin lets us know that this is going to be a fun conclusion to the work. Indeed, in this proverbial “victory-lap” finale, Dvořak fully squeezes every expressive and compositional drop out of the main theme and the warm, dancing second theme. Packaged in a rondo structure, he has tremendous fun with both themes using imitation, call and response, games of tag, a raucous Bohmian Fugue, and towards the end, slowing the main theme down very slowly into a stately chorale before the final push to the finish line.
Intrigued? Make your reservation for Sunday’s concert!
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