 Michael Daugherty b. Cedar Rapids, Iowa, April 28, 1954 Red Cape Tango Michael Daugherty’s contemporary compositions are favored by American orchestras over the works of any living composer. His unique style is comprised of a fascination with American pop culture which infuses his work on every level. The exploration of pop icons gives Daugherty “an emotional reason to compose a new work” as well as providing both listener and performer with a layer of reference. Pieces entitled Desi, Sing Sing: J. Edgar Hoover, and UFO reflect Daugherty’s artistic perspective. Red Cape Tango comprises the fifth movement of Daugherty’s 1993 Metropolis Symphony. The symphony, along with Daugherty’s Bizarro for symphonic winds, was inspired by the 50th anniversary of the Superman comic strip. The work was premiered by the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra under the direction of David Zinman. The thematic material of the Red Cape Tango is the Gregorian chant dies irae from the Latin Requiem Mass. Its black velvet seriousness emanates first from castanets, orchestra chimes, and bassoon, then is garlanded by rose-biting violins. As the percussion section grows more insistent, it is insinuated that the Man of Steel is using his red cape to fight—could it be--El Toro? Camille Saint-Saëns b. Paris, Oct. 9, 1835; d. Algiers, Dec. 16, 1921 Piano Concerto No.2 in g minor, Op. 22
Saint Saëns’s Concerto No. 2 in G minor was composed in 1868. This concerto was no doubt intended as a continuation of previous concert successes. It is comprised of the usual three movements but the traditional roles of the first and second movements are reversed; the first is moody and slow, the second more energetic. The first movement opens with a solo passage for the piano, in the style of an imagined organ improvisation. The orchestra enters with a sudden, forceful statement, then accompanies the piano to the beginning of the main section of the movement: a bittersweet melody heard first from the soloist, with ever more elaborate figurations. A long, involved cadenza—both emotionally expressive and technically flashy—takes place near the end of the movement. A puckish rondo is next, with the soloist leading the way through a series of contrasting episodes, always returning to the bubbly main theme. The third movement is based on the tarantella, a folk dance from Taranto, a town in the heel of Italy. The soloist begins with an earthquake-like rumbling that sets the orchestra in motion. An agitated seriousness pervades the proceedings, with occasional splashdowns making dramatic punctuation. A mysterious central section is encircled by elaborate decorations from the piano before the tarantella theme is revisited. Vigorous variations on the theme fill the remainder of the work, until its bottled energy finally spills over. Ludwig van Beethoven b. Bonn, bapized Dec. 17, 1770; d. Vienna, March 26, 1827 Symphony No.7 in A Major, Op. 92 Beethoven relied heavily on a circle of aristocratic patrons, whom he usually treated with warmth and even deference, as long as they did not encroach on the composer’s artistic freedom or offend his very delicate sense of honor. On several occasions in 1800, Count Moritz von Fries hosted the volatile composer in his stately palace. The Count, who was the proprietor of a prestigious banking firm in Vienna and treasurer to the Imperial court, also contributed to an annual stipend collectively offered to Beethoven by a small group of aristocratic fans. Von Fries received more than one dedication in return. Violin sonatas Op. 23 and 24, along with the string Quartet, Op. 29, bear his name but the greatest dedication he was to receive was the Seventh Symphony. Beethoven composed the symphony at the height of his powers when his middle-period style, usually designated as “heroic,” was ripening into a mellow, sublime maturity. The Symphony premiered in a concert at the University of Vienna. The concert was arranged for the benefit of Austrian and Belgian soldiers wounded in the recent Battle of Hanau. The large orchestra occasioned something of a celebrity all-star group including many notable composers and musicians. Beethoven himself did the conducting, leaving an indelible impression on those present. A majestic rising scale becomes prominent in the introductory section of the first movement. Its vertically ascending power is cunningly counterpoised by passing it from higher to lower voices in the orchestra. Above this we hear the opening oboe melody passed between the first and second violins, then richly developed. After a culminating passage, the melody winds down to a single E natural that is taken up in a dotted triplet rhythm by the flutes and oboes. Beethoven makes a jubilant dance from the new theme, propelling the movement fiercely into an ambitiously generous coda. Its finish comes with the horns crying out their signal of victory. A soft woodwind chord begins the second movement, which broods obsessively over a single repeated rhythmic idea, funereal in mood. The image of a procession is unmistakable in the gradually piled-up orchestration which grows to a crest and then moves smoothly into a more delicate and rich central section. A flute sings the melancholy tune, accompanied by gently simmering triplet figures in the strings. These figures emerge as the subject of a serious fugato episode, which towers impressively. A final variation of the main theme, a call-and-response of alternating loud and soft chords, ends with resignation. The tumbling dance of the third movement is full of wicked syncopations and controlled outbursts from the timpani and brass. There are two whole cycles through the traditional circuit of scherzo-trio-scherzo, allowing us to better familiarize ourselves with some of the rhythmic jokes in this fast section and to observe the almost pious decorum of the slower sections--the latter given bawdy commentary by a deep second-horn part. Five swift exclamations finish the movement. An initial rhythmic motto multiplies and swarms into a thousand forms in the Finale, some filled with a ruddy good humor, others manic or menacing. Accents, like stomping boots, fall repeatedly on low D sharps or E naturals in the basses and cellos, rooting us to the ground. The work comes to a close with three increasingly steep culminating waves, each propelled another notch past the maximum octane level. |
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