Friday, 16 August 2013

24 & 25 August

Another chance to hear our programme on Andalusia!


Classical Break:  Andalusia


 

Track one:  Los Pacos Els Pacos, Vincente Perez LLedo

 

This is Classical Break, on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham.  Today’s music is from Spanish composers attracted to the theme of Granada and the region of Andalusia.  You have just heard Los Pacos Els Pacos, a festive ‘Moorish’ March associated with Christian Spain’s age-old driving out of its borders of the Arabian and Moroccan invader.  The composer was Vincente Perez Lledo.  The performers are the Sociedad Musica “La Alianza” de Muchamel (a town near Alicante).  The  timbre of the trumpets possesses the almost explosively effortful vibrato common to much of Spain.

 

They came to Andalusia, the Southern Kingdom of Spain, in force,  in  811AD:  the Moors of North Africa.  Their influence did not end with the Catholic reconquest of the Kingdom in 1492, when joint rulers of Spain, Ferdinand and Isabella passed laws requiring Muslims to convert to Christianity or leave.  Andalusia had been occupied for over 6 centuries, and had been a place of trade with the whole of the Mediterranean for far longer than that.  The influence of North Africa and the Middle East was strong (incidentally, Sephardism was almost as important as Islam, before the Inquisition closed in), and Andalusians have been suspected of divided loyalties as well as a people of great cultural fascination for poets, musicians, artists of all kinds, proud and distinct. 

 

Spanish music has often been aped by Germans, Russians, Frenchmen,  Englishmen; it was á la mode throughout the 19th Century, and - via South America to some extent - added to the melting-pot of popular music in the 20th.  Frequently, just as Hungarian and zigeuner sounds have been confused, so Andalusian music  has coloured our idea of Spanish music plus non ultra standing for music of the other just as distinct regions.  Many of the catchy rhythmical patterns of what we take to be Spanish music originated in Moorish and Gypsified Andalusia.  Zapateados, Sevillanas, Alegrias, Bulerias, Tarantas, Malaguenas, Polos – many, flamenco steps - belong to the Andalusians, to a limestone-rocky, mountainous country of tropical vegetation that is lush near water, dusty and barren elsewhere, a land of cities such as Granada, Malaga, Alicante, Seville, and of villages perched on vertiginous slopes connected by high bridges or steep, dusty tracks, where water must be carried from a spring-head.  A land of religious processions, ferias, corrida, municipal bands, and folk-musicians. 

 

Here is a typical example of ‘Moorish’ Romantic-Nationalist music, a dance written by Enrique Granados (1867-1916), one of his Danzas Espagnolas.  It contrasts dusky, almost stealthy measures and a simple lilting and extremely touching song-theme developed from them.  The dance was composed for piano-solo.  Here, Edouado Fernandez plays his arrangement of it for guitar.      

 

Track 2:  Andaluza, No 5, from Danzas Espagnolas, Granados

 

Above Granada stands a monastery.  By an irony that suits the occasion, the water of the fountains, waterfalls and pools of the celebrated and most lavish Moorish palace in Spain, the Alhambra, is ducted from its spring.  Let’s hear some characteristic Gregorian chant from the Mass.  Gloria.

 

Track 3:  Gloria

 

The Andalusian School of music of the Moors was just one loss to Spain brought about by the reconquest of Andalusia.  Arabian music derives much of its hypnotic quality from short, self-repeating phrases and a firm, regular beat emphasized by percussion.  The vocalist or pipe-soloist is encouraged to perform straight or embellish a simple line above a bare instrumental background of sparse harmony.  The Sufic style that originally inspired Dervishes to entranced worship remained to colour Christian Andalusian hymns, secular songs and dances, and performance practices.  For ourselves, here in the 21st Century, we may feel ourselves to be in realms of psychedelia – though not those of the contemporary Costa Del Sol.  Here’s the anonymous hymn to Allah, Jalla Man.   

 

Track 4:  Jalla Man, the traditional Andalusian School

 

Flamenco-toque is a busy style of guitar-playing associated with Andalusia.  Its origins are said to be in Moorish and gipsy wedding-dances.  The costumes are bright and fussy, the dance-steps complex, the intensity of displays is known throughout the world, but, even in Andalusia, not always as is claimed to be authentic!  Fandango, for instance, a form imposing accelerando and crescendo, may be a South American import.   A famous gipsy family perform flamenco at inhabited caves not far from the famous Moorish Alhambra and Generaliffe palaces of Granada.  Of the Alhambra, more anon!  Flamenco takes many forms, some sung; in the case of the Tangos, which is emphatically not to be associated with the Argentinian dance, it is traditionally built on its own Phrygian modal scale.  Here is a Tangos by the great Spanish guitarist, Juan Martin – entitled simply Malaga.     

 

Track 5:  Malaga (Tangos),  Martin

 

(Joaquin Rodrigo was a Valencian, and his celebration of his daughter Cecilia’s fifth Wedding Anniversary took the form of a pastiche song-cycle for soprano and orchestra, Songs of Love and War! – the wars in question being the overthrow of the Nasrid dynasty in Granada and exploits of the Moriscotes – former Muslims fought for the Christians in another conflict.  Rodrigo’s home-city, the third largest in Spain, was of course liberated from the Moors by forces led by Rodrigo Diaz De Vivar, El Cid, First Prince of Valencia, In The 11th Century.  O Moon That Shines is a quiet paean to the Moon, which shines on in war and peace.

 

Track 6: O Moon That Shines! From Songs of Love and War, Rodrigo  

(Omitted owing to lack of time -Ed)

 

Tomas Breton was born in the city of Salamanca in the Western region of Spain, Castile y Leon.  He wrote fluently in many forms, in particular, in opera, zarzuela – a Spanish folk-form of the genre – and chamber and pictorial orchestral music.  His Andalusian Scenes are justly famous, a suite of four numbers, including a Bolero and Zapateado, and Polo.  Polo is an accompanied and sung form of flamenco.  Here’s Breton’s Polo, a beautiful example of scoring in which the sounds of string-pizzicato (ending on the cellos) seem to resonate as solo or tiered woodwind and even brass.  The sinuous phrases found in scalic figures, narrow melodic intervals and arabesques may be heard as Moorish – not far-removed from the Granados Andalucia we heard earlier.

 

Track 7: Polo, Breton  

 

(To the town of Muchamiel again for an eponymous pasodoble –two-step - by Manuel Berna.  Muchamiel.

 

Track 8:  Muchamiel, Berna  

omitted owing to lack of time)

 

(FX Collage:  Evening frogs, nightingale, Jalla Man – fades out before:)

 

The Alhambra was first built as a fortress, the Alcazaba, overlooking Granada.  Sultan Yusuf 1st chose it for his home in 899.  Over hundreds of years, additions were made until it became an unrivalled example of the superb palatial residences of Sultans and Governors in Moorish Spain.  After the expulsion of the Moors, it was added to largely by Christian royalty in the 16th Century – a whole new palace built within the gounds.  In reality, it is like a small town unto itself, with a huge pleasure-garden.  In buildings, the dominant colours are red, blue and yellow.   Art consists of non-representational geometrical patterns.  Filled with plainly adorned rooms and courts, fountains, cascades, its features also include tiled walls, colonnades, myrtle-, orange-trees, vines, roses...  In the park, there stands a copse of elms,  dating back to 1812, and gifted by the Duke of Wellington after the Peninsular War.  It is a place for tourists, dancers and musicians, a place of solemn contemplation of time and the greatness that lives on after its sponsors.

 

Andres Gaos-Berea, born in A Coruna, Galicia in North-West Spain, was a protégé of Pablo Sarasate,  a violinist of high reputation in South America - in especial, Argentina, where he lived for most of his life.  Our last work for today is his orchestral tone-poem of 1916, Granada – An Evening In The Alhambra.  It is scored for double woodwind, plus cor anglais and piccolo, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, full strings, and percussion that includes the dry festivity of castanets and tambourines.  The piece attracted accolades in Buenos Aires, A Corunna, Vigo and even Paris – there, in 1937, the famous Lamoureux Orchestra were conducted to great effect by the composer, himself, at the Salle Gaveau, and his masterwork of Alhambrismo was given once more the following year. 

 

Gaos’ piece begins in Debussyan whole-tone harmonics and level woodwind depth of twilight, a viola-shaded arabesque that fixes one’s attention, a tritone hinted-at in the relationship between arabesque and accompaniment; the cor anglais, accompanied by imitational alto and bass strings, sings a highly elegant and yet plangent song – piccolo and lower woodwind  suddenly providing brief bird-calls over this appealing sound.  The Alhambra is famed for its nightingales as well as walkers in the mild Summer twilight.  The tone lightens and builds bewitchingly in bassoon, brass and strings – castanets – and with clever play of rapidity over slowness – a Sibelian or Schubertian trick that precludes the audible ‘gear-change’ that disrupts impressions of expressive unity, we have a beautifully scored flamenco of syncopated beat, with tambourines and much exhilarating high woodwind detail, a variation deservedly repeated!  There is something autobiographical in the form of this dance.  It begins as Farruca. 

 

Farruca is a kind of danced flamenco thought to have come from Galicia – As a rule, it is characterized by minor key tonality rather than by a modal scale; the dancer comes in on a strong first beat, and syncopation - reinforced by clapping -gives rise to quick, unexpected twists and turns amid a complex step-pattern.  Significantly, it is associated with Galician travellers who feel far from home.

 

Farruca is a ‘male’ dance.  The ‘feminine’ reply that ensues is modal, regular, skippingly light in comparison, responsible for much of the exhilarating woodwind detail!  The birds comment on this dance almost in parenthesis.  A new theme on cellos adds its own commentary, about it, the bird-song plays.  It is the big, romantic tune in the piece, developed from the cor anglais tune of the introduction. The lead is turned over to violins for their higher-pitched fervour, and a quiescent, modal  chant follows its subsidence, wound about by flute and piccolo.  A guitar-like, deep pizzicato leads to a new, Moorish development on clarinet, the strings providing a bolero-like tread, and viola-shading.  It returns, and the modal chant  frames this austere, narrowly lyrical episode.  Abruptly, the flamenco is on us again, as high-spirited as before.  Instead of a two-fold repetition, Gaos plays what is surely his masterstroke in continuity – as the secondary crescendo launches straight into his passionate  big tune, full-throated in its fervour.  This seems the heart of Spain herself singing.  Extended, it is as though lifted higher by its  own afflatus, ending in the modal chant.  This muses lullingly, with great pathos and brings us back to the music of the rapt introduction, minus the opening tritonal passage – the strings draw out this lovely melody with Griegian harmonies which suggest that Gaos is more than loath to leave his dreamworld.  The birdcalls and dusky strings muse on this sublime, humane song of regret until it finds something of its own consolation, after which the birds sing more freely again.  The harmonics return, the ghostlier for what we have heard.  Flute and muted horn sound stealthily, almost mockingly, before the neither loud nor quiet last, repeated and extended chords of cadence on lower strings.

 

The success of this piece in Paris came as Spain endured the bloodiest Civil War in European history, the invader from North Africa and Canary Islands, this time, being the Spanish Army under the Fascistic, avowedly Christian General Franco.

 

This was Classical Break on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham.  Today’s programme was researched and written by Mike Burrows.  We hope that you enjoyed our musical tour of Southern Spain, and will join us again soon.  Adios!

 

Granada, Un Creposculo En La Alhambra, by Andres Gaos-Berea.          

 

Track 8:  An Evening In The Alhambra, Gaos-Berea

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, 9 August 2013

10 & 11 August

Classical Break - Harty
 
 
 
 
Intro Track:  The Star of The County Down
 
This is Classical Break on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham.  This week’s script was researched and written by Mike Burrows.  To begin the programme, we have a re-discovery lately recorded:  the Piano Quintet of the twenty-four years-old Herbert Hamilton Harty.  It was first performed in its entirety in 1906, two years after it had won him First Prize in a small privately-endowed competition arranged by a wealthy London socialite. 
 
Between early days as an accompanist, an organist, pianist and violist in the County Down and Dublin of the ‘Nineties, and 1904, by which time he had settled well after emigrating to London, Harty produced a series of chamber works, a Violin Sonata, two String Quartets and this Quintet.  At the turn of the Century, he won a prize for a String Quartet at the Feis Coeil in Dublin, an achievement that helped to smoothe his path in London. 
 
The Piano Quintet in F Major begins with a movement in sonata-form marked simply, Allegro.  A rather crabbed Brahmsian flourish is responsible for most of the material that follows, a strikingly stressful First Group succeeded by the traditional feminine contrast, a tune whose scotch snaps are Irish in origin, and whose influence briefly mellows the impassioned music of the outset before providing the piano with the opportunity of more large, sonorous chords.  The development begins with subtler contrasts of string sound and piano timbres, the parts skilfully interwoven in counterpoint; the viola is conspicuous as the music dies down and slows for the recapitulation to come in and be made to seem more reflective between fits of gustiness.  The second subject is given beautiful full sonority on piano and diminished note-value decoration underneath, and a triumphant climax - quietness on viola again sounds and the flourish ends this brilliantly fluent movement.
 
Track One:  Allegro
 
 
This is Classical Break on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham. The prize for the Piano Quintet and another award at the Feis Coeil for an Irish Symphony in 1904, brought Harty some fame as a composer, but he was to be known to posterity for other skills.  As a pianist-accompanist to singers - including his wife for some time, the soprano, Agnes Nicholls, as a formidable conductor of the LSO and Halle Orchestras, and as an arranger of other men’s music, he was seen for what he was.  As a composer, ambition drove him, but was not fulfilled.
 
On the evidence of his actual compositions, this has been a great loss to the concert-going public.  This man, who was not an alumnus of a London music college, was possibly as gifted a composer as any Briton working at the time.  Fame enourages true genius to develop:  like so many other gifted provincials in this country, he was denied what would have been a far preferable destiny.
 
To return to the Piano Quintet:  after a dramatic, well-set-up opening movement in sonata-form, contrast is called-for: a Scherzo, in fact.  Marked Vivace, it is like a Brahms intermezzo, and also sports a neat jig-rhythm in tribute, perhaps, to an Irish muse.  If it begins a little nervously as well as skittishly, it soon opens out in piano arpeggios and slurred lyricism for the violin and viola in particular.  Harty evidently likes the effect of darting pizzicati, also.  The piano has a delightful treble chuckling downward scale figure.  Shifts between major and minor increase the charm of this movement.  Contrasts are subtle - this is no workaday scherzo with trio - and it ends circularly in the lightest and most abrupt of fashions.
 
What one should not miss amid the banter is the cunning of Harty’s skill in cyclical variation - this movement is a further development of thematic, rhythmical and harmonic elements of the Allegro; the motto-flourish haunts it.  
 
Track 2: Vivace
 
The motto-theme, smoothed, is present in the third movement.  This masterpiece, marked Lento, is solemn, but gloriously feeling and lyrical, beginning in violin, viola and cello-tone.  A yearning melody grows in large chords on piano, rolling itself out and accompanied by counterpoint, and dies away into a crescendo in sequences; this is a striking foretaste of the Elgar Piano Quintet of 1918.  It dies away in smouldering ‘Irish’ manner - only to begin to rise again, with the violins in unison.  The most passionate material in this movement arises again.  Repose always regathers itself here, in order to deliver a stronger message of loss or longing.  Again, the apparition passes - it seems like an apparition - and dies away in shadows of tremolando on cello in particular.  A further rise leads once more to the Irish dying fall.  One more strong unisonal, chordal, tremolando and trilled climax and one is left in peace and the close.
 
Track 3:  Lento
 
The finale is a rondo, Allegro con Brio.  It is as glorious in its own fashion as the other movements.  It hints at every turn to the other movements’ material, too.  The clever counterpoint of canons, imitations, diminutions and augmentations and colourful interplay between instruments are as ever merely a means to expressive power, in this case, fervent happiness and a contrasting melancholy. An inspired, exciting fragment of melody succeeds the exultant stamping opening, and there’s something of a reprise of the opening section.  A more mysterious segment following, derived from subsidiary phrases, is carried into cheerfulness, only to be reasserted by viola and violin, courting scalic responses from the piano.  The piano is the author of much of the sanguine or humorous tone of this music, but its quicksilver runs - which impel jogging cello pizzicati, do not prevent the stubbornly shadier bowed sounds of the strings - led by the lovely but melancholy solo viola - from developing into a brown study, the poetic core of this movement:  Irish Brahms, but perhaps more spontaneous.  The brown study harks back craftily to the slow movement!  The happier material rises up out of this, the first subject and its inspired pendant striding out again, the piano either playing block chords or arpeggiating.  The quicksilver runs bring back a more cheerful viola and cello amid stirring textures and all builds to a confident, succinct climax; the brown study music returns in a typical change in character through change in tempo  - appropriately, it now hustles the Quintet to a close, accompanied at last with a Brahms-like downward glissando on piano.  This is an unstoppable finale, superbly proud and optimistic, with genuine deep shadows to contend with.    
 
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Track 4:  Allegro Con Brio
 
 
Harty’s Piano Quintet in F Major was performed in full once and once only, at a function held at the Langham Hotel....
 
The prize that this splendid score attracted, the in-those-days large sum of £50 - was awarded to the young composer by  Benno Schonberger - a pianist - and Frederic Cowen and Alexander Mackenzie, two eminent composers.  Why it went unpublished and dropped out of sight or sound for 106 years is a mystery.  Judged as music, it comes perilously close to perfection in all respects.  Its loss to the concert-hall then and later was a dunderheaded, very British tragedy  Did Paddy think he was Brahms?
 
Three Pieces for oboe and piano date from 1911, and were first performed in orchestral dress at a Wood Promenade-concert in that year.  These are character-pieces in a Romantic tradition that reaches as far back as Robert Schumann.  In a ternary form - a first subject with contrasting material - all three display lively invention and skilful workmanship which, although operating at a lower artistic level than the Piano Quintet, are unforeseeably evocative and touching.  Here is the first, entitled:  Chansonette: Andante con moto.
 
Track 5:  Chansonette: Andante con moto, Three Pieces, Harty
 
Here is the second of Harty’s Three Pieces for oboe and piano. Orientale: Grazioso e con moto. ‘Orientalism’ was a long-lasting fashion in European concert and domestic music.  The same clichés did duty  for ‘Turkish’, ‘Arabic’, ‘Chinese’, or ‘Japanese’.  Harty’s Eastern music is not thorough-going, Irish turns occurring even here.  Perhaps by Eastern, he meant London or Paris, rather than County Down or Dublin...  There is a witty middle part.
 
Track 6:  Orientale: Grazioso e con moto
 
Last of these engaging miniatures is a pastoral, A la Campagne:  Lento ma non troppo.  Interestingly, when Harty devized a book-plate for his library, he took two bars from A La Campagne to accompany a picture of a shepherd playing a pipe.  It may be the most inward-turned movement of the suite. If the orchestral version of Three Pieces is vividly colourful, the duo arrangement permits one to enjoy the work’s rhythmical qualities and the melodic contours in higher relief, as well as a more intimate mode of address.  What will be noticed - along with the big reach needed by any accompanist - is the very musicianly balance in the oboe and piano-parts - tact, given that Harty was a full-blooded pianist!  
  
This was Classical Break on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham.  Today’s programme was researched and written by Mike Burrows.  We hope that you enjoyed it and will join us again soon.  Goodbye!    
 
 
 
Track 7:  A la Campagne:  Lento ma non troppo