 Igor Stravinsky b. Oranienbaum, near St. Petersburg, June 17, 1882; d. New York, April 6, 1971 The Firebird Suite (1919) The historical significance of The Firebird is twofold: it was the first full-length ballet Stravinsky wrote and it was his entrée to the international stage. Derived from the untested talent of the then unknown Stravinsky, The Firebird was likened to Athena bursting fully-formed and fully armed from the head of Zeus. The score manages to be technically accomplished, thoroughly secure in its handling of orchestration, and boldly original. The premiere made ballet history and placed Stravinsky immediately in the top echelon of contemporary composers. The story of the ballet is drawn from numerous Russian fairy tales. The scenario centers on Prince Ivan Tsarevich, who chases after a bird of flaming gold only to be captured by the green-clawed monster Katschei. The suite opens with a murky melody in the double basses depicting a nighttime scene in the forest near Katschei’s gloomy castle. Beyond the castle walls lies a magic garden of golden fruit, attended by a beautiful enslaved princess. The Prince rides into the scene, but is unable to penetrate the darkness until the Firebird appears in a shower of sparks. Her pas seul is played by the flute and clarinet, with polychromatic effects from the strings, harp, and trumpet. The next section is the pleading song of the imprisoned Princess. The oboe sings the melody first, answered by cello, clarinet, and bassoon. The strings take over in a sumptuously romantic phrase. The scene continues with a dialogue among solo winds, horns, and strings; ending with serene repose. This peace is shattered with a violent explosion from the orchestra when the monster Katschei takes the stage, planning to petrify the intrusive Prince. The blinding appearance of The Firebird magically induces Katschei and his attending demons to dance uncontrollably. The accompanying music is trademark Stravinsky: brutal syncopation underlying a crystalline reflection of instrumental sound. A lyrical Russian folk-song phrase is introduced, but the infernal dancers have not yet been subdued, and leap forward in a final erractic fury. A series of hanging piano and harp chords introduce the Firebird’s berceuse, a dialogue between bassoon and oboe. Here the magical bird casts another spell on the exhausted dancers, lulling them to sleep. Softly shimmering string chords lead into the Finale, where a noble solo from the horn indicates a happy ending. The Prince and Princess are united, the Firebird majestically resumes her place in the magic forest, and the castle of the evil monster is transformed into a radiant Paradise. Modest Mussorgsky b. Karevo, Russia, March 21,1839; d. St. Petersburg, March 28, 1881 Pictures at an Exhibition Orchestrated by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) Modest Mussorgsky, one of five key Russian composers, was known for his innovative nationalist music. Though he was plagued by alcoholism and mental illness for most his life and his initial efforts were met with cynicism from his contemporaries, his works, including A Night on Bald Mountain and his opera Boris Godunov, were enthusiastically received by the public. In 1874 an exhibition of works by the artist Victor Hartmann, a close friend of Mussorgsky’s who had passed away suddenly of an aneurism, was mounted. It featured over 400 paintings, watercolors, and architectural designs. Ten of these were the inspiration for Mussorgsky’s piano composition, Pictures at an Exhibition. The work was masterfully orchestrated in 1922 by Maurice Ravel. The most characteristic element of the work is Mussorgsky’s promenade, which serves as a device to transition from one artwork to the next, clearing the musical palette. Ravel cast the bold, opening bell-like chords of the promenade for trumpet and brass choir, accompanied by the rest of the orchestra after the initial phrase. Gnomus, the first picture, is a tiny nutcracker that Mussorgsky portrays stalking about on clumsy, stunted legs. Ravel uses the celeste in this selection as a nod to Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet. A bemused, reflective promenade leads to the second picture; a troubadour accompanying himself on the lute, standing next to an old castle. The saxophone sings Mussorgsky’s archaic-sounding tune. Promenading happily on, we arrive at picture number three, Tuileries. Hartmann’s original simply depicted the gardens near the Louvre, but Mussorgsky added a group of children playing and arguing pettily. The next movement follows without the intervening promenade: the picture portrays an oxcart being pulled along a muddy country road. Mussorgsky interprets the peasant scene with soulful Slavic empathy before an appropriately serious version of the promenade takes us on our way. The exhibit included a small number of watercolors depicting boys and girls dressed as canaries, costume designs Hartmann made for a ballet. The Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks is Mussorgsky’s imaginative response to these images. Again the promenade is omitted, bringing us directly to Samuel Goldenberg et Shmuyle--Hartmann’s depiction of two Yiddish figures, one rich, the other poor. Mussorgsky uses modal scale patterns as caricatures of speech-patterns in his musical impression of these portraits. We arrive without a break at Limoges, where all the bustle, gossip, and commerce of the small French town’s market-square is presented in a quick march. The carefree atmosphere abruptly vanishes, however, when the brass toll the opening of the next movement. Mussorgsky was inspired by a gloomy watercolor in which Hartmann presents himself with two colleagues in the catacombs of Paris. Human skulls are organized into a forbidding edifice on one side of the chamber. This is followed by an especially somber version of the promenade subtitled In the Company of the Dead in a Dead Language. The thread of grotesquerie continues in the next movement, along a more escapist vein. An elaborate charcoal drawing of a clock made to resemble Baba Yaga, a witch in Slavic fairy tales, was its inspiration. She is said to fly through the air in a mortar, using the pestle as a rudder and a broom to cover her tracks. She eats human bones and her house moves about on two chicken legs. In The Great Gate of Kiev, the promenade theme is transformed into an edifice of monumental proportions through a series of variations. Hartmann created this design for a competition to commemorate Tsar Alexander II’s narrow escape from assassination. Among the majestic variations bells ring out in a processional encompassing not just the gallery visitor, but the teeming masses beyond. Jim Cockey b. 1947 An Idaho Symphony (Symphony No. 3) I. An Idaho Autumn II. An Idaho Winter III. An Idaho Spring IV. An Idaho Summer Jim Cockey is an Idaho composer who received a Gold Album for his work with the Moody Blues and the Idaho Governor’s Award for Excellence in the Arts. His Symphony No. 2 received “Best International Recording of the Year” from the Seventh Annual Native American Music Awards. His Duo for bass Clarinet and Viola, commissioned by the Darkwood Consort, was performed internationally, most notably at the First International Bass Clarinet Conference in Rotterdam. Elegy for an Ancient Battlefield was commissioned for the Langroise Trio and performed at the Kennedy Center to much acclaim. The idea of a symphony about the four seasons was conceived by Boise Philharmonic Board member Dr. Paul Collins as a celebration of Maestro Jim Ogle's 20 years with the Boise Philharmonic. Thus, Jim Cockey’s composition, An Idaho Symphony, came to fruition and is premiered at tonight’s concert. An Idaho Symphony is more internal than external, more emotional than descriptive. In concept it is a piece of music inspired by, rather than written specifically about, Idaho. Each movement was composed during its respective season. Consequently, the work is a musical calendar of an Idaho year. Woven into the work is the composer's lifetime of living in and loving Idaho, his homage to other composers who have turned their music toward similar subjects, and his celebration of a long, collaborative association not only with Maestro Ogle, but also with the Boise Philharmonic. Ultimately, An Idaho Symphony is, indeed, about Idaho. For this amazing land is not separate from us. It exists within each of us and inspires within each of us our ideals, our dreams, and our music. Jim Cockey, May 28, 2007 |
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