“Everything changes it is extraordinary how everything does change.”
That short quotation from Gertrude Stein’s Everybody’s Autobiography has provided Naomi Pinnock with two separate titles for two related works. Everything changes for viola and cello was composed in 2011 as the accompaniment to a short film by Pavla Scerankova titled Klatov. The following year Pinnock revised the material into everything does change for clarinet, violin and cello. In some respects i’ve come to regard Everything changes as the more ‘pure’ of the two, inasmuch as it’s rooted in basic pitch / motivic movement, only lightly varied, yet its ostensible solemnity is lightened by both an implied playfulness in the way the instruments occasionally take each other’s notes, as well as by a beautiful fleeting sequence of harmonics at the centre of the piece (corresponding to close-ups on tree blossoms in the film).
It’s interesting to consider the possibility of irony in the title. From one perspective, not a lot seems to be changing; Pinnock goes further than in many of her compositions and doesn’t merely obsess but seems to reduce the entire universe of musical creativity down to just a handful of pitch and gestural possibilities. Both figuratively and literally the trio clusters together, speaking together in cool, halting phrases that come to resemble a sequence of exhalations (following implied inhalations). To think of it as playful (as seemed the case in Everything changes) is less plausible here, partly because instead of moving around a bright central point, in everything does change the centre, following a short rhythmic phrase that for the first time breaks up the sustained notes, the music swells (previously the dynamic had been flat), turning dark, seemingly coming off the rails. Pinnock mentions memory in her programme note, and one wonders whether something troubling came to the surface. Either way, it leaves its mark: though the music returns to a semblance of its earlier state, it’s not the same. Clearly, everything does change.
This performance of everything does change took place in November 2019, given by members of the London Sinfonietta.
Programme note
everything does change is a re-working and extension of a piece I wrote for a film – Klatov – by the Czech artist Pavla Scerankova. After the death of her grandfather, Pavla unearthed reams of Standard-8 footage that he had taken of his family, friends and surroundings. With the digitised versions, she created an homage to the joyful beauty of a place and people she knew, but never experienced first hand. The music is my response to the everyday happiness that the film captures and to these forgotten memories.
‘In Italy, opera is like the football’ – Bill Bailey on classical music and the arts.
Picture:
Alamy
Bill Bailey joined Moira Stuart on Classic FM to speak about his music and comedy influences, his earliest memories of opera and the future of the arts – while choosing some of his favourite classical music along the way.
Music comedy legend Bill Bailey has spoken out about the hotly debated plans for the English National Opera to move to Manchester, driven by a redistribution Arts Council England funding and labelled last month as “absurd” by the ENO’s chief exec.
In an exclusive interview on Moira Stuart Meets… on Classic FM, the celebrated musician and comedian said he thought the potential relocation was “a shame”.
“You go to the great cities of Europe, and they’ve all got two or three opera houses,” Bailey told Stuart. “And this would leave us with only one, the Royal Opera House. I think a lot of people, rightly or wrongly, sort of associate opera as being quite elitist or sort of highbrow entertainment.”
Bailey went on to stress the importance in the arts of “getting people through the door”.
“We have to be more innovative more and agile about how to get more people to engage with the arts in the way that they do in Europe,” he said. “I mean I’ve been to see opera in Italy, and it’s like the football. People just buy a ticket to go and see the opera like… it’s not seen as any kind of hybrid entertainment, it’s the entertainment of everyone, for everyone.”
Read more: Leading UK opera companies have funding slashed in Arts Council announcement
Bailey reminisced about his first memory of opera: seeing Verdi’s Aida at the Arena di Verona in Italy. “I remember it so vividly,” he said. “I must have been seven or eight years old. We had to rent cushions to sit on the stone steps and you bought a candle and lit the candle and so the whole arena was full of 20,000 people holding a candle.
“It was most extraordinary experience… you know, your first exposure to opera stays with you for the rest of your life.”
In the interview (catch up on Global Player here), Bailey told Stuart about his earliest influences in comedy, crediting the legendary Danish comedian Victor Borge, whose unique marriage of humour and virtuoso pianism delighted generations.
“I would sit around with the family, and we would watch Morecambe and Wise… and Victor Borge was a big favourite. There was something about the way he used music and comedy which made a deep impression on me.”
Bailey also shared his love for Mozart’s Coronation Piano Concerto No.26 – the piece he played in his first public concert “at the encouragement of my music teacher… without whom I would never have had the confidence to do this” – as well as Bach’s seminal Prelude and Fugue No.21.
“What I loved about the 48 Preludes and Fugues was that this was an instruction manual for playing the piano, and yet it’s this beautiful selection… if you can work your way through these, you will understand all manner of performance, about syncopation, about technical ability.
“I love the fact that something so beautiful, something so extraordinarily written and so intuitive and so challenging… was written just to teach people the piano.”
Finally, Bailey touched on a campaign he is fronting this Christmas for the Kennel Club Charitable Trust which aims to feed at least 4,000 rescue dogs, with all donations doubled until midday on Tuesday 6 December, and every £10 donation ensuring they can feed one dog for two weeks.
“Being responsible for an animal is a good thing. They teach you a lot about yourself. They can enrich our lives in many ways,” Bailey said.
MOSES LAKE — A Celtic take on Christmas music comes to Moses Lake when the Gothard Sisters perform in concert at 7 p.m. Dec. 13 at the Wallenstien Theater on the Big Bend Community College campus. The concert is part of the Central Basin Community Concert Association series, and is sponsored with the help of Moses Lake Steel, according to information from the CBCCA.
The sisters are familiar to Moses Lake audiences; they have performed in town on multiple occasions, including earlier Christmas concerts. Sisters Greta, Solana and Willow are Puget Sound-area natives who’ve been performing together for more than a decade, starting at a local farmers market.
The sisters focus on contemporary Celtic music, much of it original, but their sound includes classical, folk and new age influences. Their vocals are accompanied by acoustic guitar, violin, mandolin, a whistle and traditional drums from Ireland and West Africa.
Tickets are $30 for adults, $10 for students, $35 for a single-parent family and $65 for families. They can be purchased in advance at the CBCCA website, www.communityconcertsml.com, or at the door.
The Gothard Sisters are the third concert of the 2021-22 season. The duo Hi Tide will appear April 23, and the Sapphire Trio will perform May 5.
The CBCCA was a subscription series for many years, where only season tickets were available. Now tickets are available for individual concerts as well.
The Central Basin Community Concert Association was formed in 1954 to bring live music to Moses Lake and the Columbia Basin. Since its founding the association has sponsored everything from opera and art songs to folk and country music, to classical music to soul to gospel, among others.
Season tickets also come with reciprocal agreements for concerts sponsored by other community groups that use the same booking company, Live on Stage. Members of CBCCA can attend concerts free of charge in Wenatchee, Richland, Shelton, Longview, Bremerton, Centralia and Everett.
Cheryl Schweizer may be reached at cschweizer@columbiabasinherald.com.
Pierre Boulez composed his piano work Douze Notations in 1945. After its première in February of that year (by Yvette Grimaud), the piece was subsequently withdrawn by Boulez (evidently already regarding it as outdated), who only relented and allowed it to be published in the mid-1980s. Despite this, in 1946 Boulez privately worked on an arrangement of 11 of them (No. 6 was omitted) for ensemble, and from the late 1970s reworked five of them, Nos. 1 to 4 and 7, for orchestra. Apparently, the intention was to create more orchestral versions, as Boulez mentioned in 2012 that he was working on No. 8, though this was never completed.
The orchestral Notations are markedly different from the piano versions, expanded in form and scope, so in 2011 German composer Johannes Schöllhorn set out to orchestrate them for ensemble, retaining the concise brevity of the originals. Three of these were given their first UK performance at the 2015 Proms, marking Boulez’s 90th birthday (he died the following January), by the Birmingham Contemporary Music Group conducted by Franck Ollu.
No. 2
Schöllhorn’s approach with No. 2 doesn’t quite have the ferocity of the piano original – interesting considering its progression from just one instrument to many – though it nicely colours the central shift away from wild, aggressive clusterbombs to something like a mechanical machine.
No. 10
Schöllhorn’s version of No. 10 shifts timbres according to Boulez’s playful mix of cross rhythms (triplets and quintuplets) and regular versus rapid phrases, around a centre where everything comes together for a brief moment of rhythmic focus and unity. BCMG’s performance nicely lives up to Boulez’s curt demand, “absoluement sans nuances”.
No. 11
Boulez mark’s Notation No. 11 ‘Scintillant’ (glittering), but Schöllhorn gives that an icy interpretation in his orchestrated version. The notes have a chilly demeanour, reinforced by a lack of vibrato and string tremolandos, and the two central chords are decidedly dark and foreboding. Appropriately, the original instruction that “Faire ressortir le chant en sauts disjoints” (bring out the melody in disjointed jumps) is realised by having the piano in the ensemble sustain each note of the melody, and Schöllhorn’s use of hanging notes creates a nice simulation of Boulez’s desired “beaucoup de pédale” effect.
La treizième
In addition to orchestrating Boulez’s originals, Johannes Schöllhorn also created an additional Notation, which he titled La treizième. The piece is a patchwork, using a single bar from each of the 12 Notations, the bar number corresponding to the number of the Notation (i.e. No. 1 = bar 1, … No. 12 = bar 12). Though it’s clearly just a bit of tongue-in-cheek fun, the piece nonetheless highlights how behaviourally cohesive the original Notations really are, since when chopped up in this way, the effect is utterly schizophrenic, offering momentary windows into a dozen very different, self-contained worlds.
With apologies to Universal Edition for such a crude cut and paste job, below is a quick and dirty mock-up of what the imaginary ‘original’ piano score of La treizième would look like.
The religious celebration of Easter is a true dichotomy between death and life, endings and beginnings, grief and joy. The Easter story has been immortalised in some of the greatest classical works of all time, and inspired countless others. Discover our selection of the top 20 best classical music pieces for Easter encapsulating the ecclesiastical gravitas of the crucifixion, the poignancy of the resurrection, and the jubilation of springtime.
Listen to the best classical Easter music on Spotify and scroll down to discover our selection of the top 20 pieces.
Best Classical Easter Music: Top 20 Essential Pieces
20: Tallis: Lamentations Of Jeremiah The Prophet
Composed as early as 1565, Tallis’ Lamentations are settings of verse from the Book Of Jeremiah, specifically the first ‘Nocturn’ for Maundy Thursday, one of the best classical music pieces for Easter. Tallis opts for the lower, darker, richer tones of male voices, which he skilfully balances in contemplative, five-part polyphony. As a result of this relentless and complex counterpoint, these Lamentations are deeply emotional and utterly entrancing.
19: Berlioz: ‘Resurrexit’ from Messe Solennelle
Berlioz’s Messe Solemnelle has a resurrection story of its own: in 1824 the then twenty-year old Berlioz is said to have discarded large sections of his Messe Solemnelle. Thankfully for us, the complete score was later discovered in 1991. The ‘Resurrexit’ movement is fantastically dramatic, with proud brass fanfares and epic choral forces revelling in the euphoria of Jesus’ resurrection in full-blown, post-Beethovenian Romanticism.
18: Monteverdi: Vespro Della Beata Vergine
Monteverdi’s Vespers For The Blessed Virgin, published in 1610, were written to be performed on Marian feast days. In its time, Monteverdi’s vocal compositional style was pioneering: the use of figured based, the virtuostic solo writing, the use of dance forms, all seen manifest in these Vespers, are just a few ways in which Monteverdi revolutionised vocal composition. These stylistic innovations would eventually lead to the invention of opera. Indeed, moments in these Vespers certainly verge on the operatic, contrasted with animated, fugal passages. From pieces like these magnificent Vespers, it is clear to see why Monteverdi is often heralded as the most significant composer of the 17th century.
17: Bruckner: Mass No.1 in D minor
A fervent Catholic for all his life, Bruckner’s ouvre is littered with sacred works. His first setting of the Mass ordinary, written in 1864, is a delicate and contemplative masterpiece. For this piece Bruckner eschews his more experimental compositional tendencies in favour of a more conservative, straight-laced idiom, particularly in terms of harmony. His fiery, innovative Romantic flair that is apparent in his symphonies, is balanced perfectly with polyphonic technique, creating a truly uplifting setting of the Mass ordinary. Perhaps a little of Bruckner’s Romantic intensity pervades into the final section, the ‘Agnus Dei’ (‘Lamb of God’), which brings the piece to a tantalising conclusion.
16: Stravinsky: Mass
As you would expect from Stravinsky, this setting of the Mass is no way near as conventional as Bruckner’s. In fact writing music for a Catholic liturgical service was inconsistent with Stravinsky’s own Russian Orthodox faith. The piece, scored for an unusual combination of choir, with oboes, cor anglais, bassoon, trumpets and trombones, is by Stravinsky’s standards refrained, and largely unornamented. Nevertheless, a capsule definition of the harmonic language evades theorists and analysists to this day. In its own Stravinskian way, the strangely hypnotising soundworld of this Mass captures the significance of religious festivals such as Easter.
15: Haydn: The Seven Last Words Of Our Saviour On The Cross
A sobering commemoration of the crucifixion on Good Friday, Haydn’s Seven Last Words are a meditation on Christ’s last moments in human life, in the form of 9 movements. The work was originally scored for chorus and orchestra, but later arranged into an equally transformative and powerful string quartet, and is one of the best classical music pieces for Easter. The music is supremely graceful yet measured, exuding the gravitas and solemnity of Christ’s final moments on the cross, in the knowledge that in sacrificing himself, He would save all mankind.
14: Pärt: De Profundis
A musical setting of Psalm 130, De Profundis is an intriguing, mesmerising piece, perfectly suited for a portentous occasion such as Easter. Pärt reaches deep into the lower limits of the male vocal range, contrasting these grave, rich tones with a chiming organ ostinato and ethereal tubular bells that circle throughout. This piece certainly provides a moment of internal reflection, with gentle melodies that linger and build, almost to breaking point, before the voices pull back into blissful vocal harmony.
13: Pergolesi: Stabat Mater
The Stabat Mater is a sombre hymn, conveying the suffering of the Virgin Mary at the crucifixion of Christ. Pergolesi’s version was written just before his own death in 1736. Moments of grief, such as ‘Quando Corpus Morietur’, are contrasted with lighter moments, such as ‘Cujus Animam Gementem’, reflecting the duality that lies at the core of the Christian Easter festival. This particular setting of the Latin liturgy is potentially one of the most tender and evocative duets in the repertoire and one of the best classical music pieces for Easter.
12: Tavener: As One Who Has Slept
A modern Easter anthem, As One Who Has Slept (1996) is a musical setting of the liturgy of St Basil, written specifically to be performed on Easter Sunday. Tavener grounds the angelic, floating voices with a drone in the bass part which is maintained throughout, almost as though to put the listener into a trance-like, meditative state. Through heart-wrenching harmonies which gently jar, and then resolve, Tavener creates an ethereal, timeless setting for the words: “As one who has slept, the Lord has risen, and rising He has saved us.”
11: Purcell: ‘When I Am Laid In Earth’ from Dido And Anaes
‘When I am Laid in Earth’, also known as ‘Dido’s Lament’, from Purcell’s late 17th-century opera, is a secular work that today is most commonly associated with remembrance. However, the purity of emotion, and poignancy of the words, that ominously foreshadow death, lend themselves freely to ecclesiastical interpretation. This beautiful simplicity aria demands supreme vocal control and delicate sensitivity from the soprano, which simultaneously inflicts a profound emotional pull on the listener.
10: Messiaen: O Sacrum Convivium
This motet, written in 1937, is a setting of Latin prose that honours the Eucharist – the sacramental consumption of bread and wine in memory of Jesus. Religious teaching holds that this tradition began on the eve of Maundy Thursday, at the Last Supper. Messiaen’s musical offering if entirely homophonic, which rises and falls with the breath. The melange of voices linger on juicy chords, revelling in Messiaen’s distinctive musical rhetoric. The noticeable lack of harmonic resolution makes this a weightless, almost spiritual, listening experience.
9: Mozart: Mass in C minor
Or indeed the Great Mass, as history has rightly dubbed it – even in its partly unfinished form. The giant of classical music himself produce an equally gigantic setting of the Mass ordinary, with four soloists, double chorus and immense orchestra. This piece looks both to tradition, with the influence of Bach and Handel evident in ‘Cum Sancto Spiritu’, as well as to innovation, with vocal pyrotechnics more reminiscent a Mozartian opera than a sacred Mass. The compositional mastery of this piece is perhaps best exemplified by the ‘Sanctus’, where full performance forces are fully unleashed.
8: Rimsky-Korsakov: Russian Easter Overture
Based entirely on chants from the Russian Orthodox Church, Rimsky-Korsakov’s Easter Overture is a purely instrumental work for orchestra and one of the best classical music pieces for Easter. This piece is wonderfully programmatic: the underlying Easter narrative is unmistakable thanks to the composer’s genius use of orchestration. The contemplative opening section underlines the solemnity of the Passiontide in the lead up to Holy Sunday, before transitioning into the unbridled joy of Easter morning.
7: Bach: Easter Oratorio
Bach is renowned for his divine collection of large-scale church music. The Easter Oratorio is cantata written specifically for worship on Easter Sunday, the narrative of which follows the discovery of Jesus’ empty tomb, from the joyous, lilting opening chorus ‘Kommt, Eilet Und Laufet’, to the sorrowful lament in ‘Seele, Deine Spezereien’. The text is non-liturgical, comprised of newly-written poetry, and includes the characters of John, Peter, Mary Magdalene and Mary mother of James.
6: Vaughan Williams: Five Mystical Songs
The first of Vaughan William’s Five Mystical Songs from 1911 is titled ‘Easter’. Scored for baritone solo and accompanied by choir and orchestra, ‘Easter’ is an endlessly joyful setting of a poem by George Herbert. The throbbing string accompaniment creates an atmosphere of excitement and exultation, whilst the rich baritone solo sores above. Uplifting and jubilant throughout, ‘Easter’ and the four other Mystical Songs, represent Vaughan Williams’ work at its absolute finest.
5: Victoria: Tenebrae Responsories
Tomás Luis de Victoria’s Tenebrae Responsories, perhaps one of the most stunning examples of relatively unknown early music, were composed in 1585 for performance during Catholic services on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. Comprised of eighteen motets with text derived from the Catholic liturgy, Victoria writes for simply four voices a cappella. The eighteenth responsory ‘Sepulto Domino’ is the epitome of pared-back vocal writing, with slushy suspensions and blissful harmonic progressions.
4: Bach: St John Passion
The first of Bach’s two mammoth sacred Passions, the St John Passion is an epic musical setting of the gospel. The John was first performed during service on Good Friday in 1724, it has remained a core part of the liturgical canon ever since and is one of the best classical music pieces for Easter. Scored for soloists, chorus and orchestra, John Passion is intense, dramatic, and evocative throughout. Perhaps the most breath-taking moments belong to the Evangelist, for whom, as narrator, Bach writes astounding recitative passages that border on the divine.
3: Bach: St Matthew Passion
The St Matthew Passion is a sacred masterpiece on a scale even grander than its John counterpart. Again, performed by chorus, orchestra, and the Evangelist narrator, the Matthew is arguably the pinnacle of Bach the church musician and one of the best classical music pieces for Easter. If you’ve got the stamina, the full three hours of the Matthew Passion are well worth your undivided attention, particularly at Easter.
2: Mahler: Symphony No 2, ‘Resurrection’
Mahler’s second symphony, nicknamed ‘Resurrection’, is the composer’s own meditation on rebirth and afterlife, themes reminiscent of Easter. Radical for its fusion of both vocal and orchestral genres on an unprecedented scale, the ‘Resurrection’ symphony is scored for an extra-large orchestra, full choir, organ and church bells. Mahler wrote the text himself. The fifth movement in particular is explosive yet poignant, beginning with a passage known as the “cry of despair” and ending with the words, “Die shall I in order to live/Rise again, yes, rise again.”
The final moments of the ‘Resurrection’ symphony will quite simply blow your socks off, punch you in the face, and break your heart in the space of five minutes.
1: Handel: Messiah
Handel’s Messiahis a mainstay of choral society singing, one of the best classical music pieces for Easter, and one of most enduring choral works of all time. This oratorio is synonymous with Easter, with the scriptural text of the King James Bible set to Handel’s dramatic and emotive music. Best known of course for the famous ‘Hallelujah’ chorus, however the rest of the Messiah is equally beautiful, featuring exquisite arias such as ‘Ev’ry Valley Shall Be Exalted’. In a word? Iconic.
Recommended Recording
Trevor Pinnock’s 1988 recording of Handel’s Messiah with the English Concert and Choir is one of the finest versions available to offer authentic instruments and lively, embellished singing that is idiomatic to the Baroque period. The soloists are soprano Arleen Augér, contralto Anne Sofie von Otter, countertenor Michael Chance, tenor Howard Crook, and bass John Tomlinson. BBC Music Magazine described Trevor Pinnock’s recording of Handel’s Messiah as, “One of the freshest and most exciting Messiahs on CD reconciling ‘authentic’ practice with the work’s undoubted scope for grandeur. Superb soloists.”
Trevor Pinnock’s recording of Handel’s Messiah can be bought here.
Classical music uplifts listeners. It can excite, inspire, surprise and confuse. Attendees at OLLI Orchestra’s free concert, “Melody Takes Flight,” on Sunday, December 4, will probably find the last piece, “Chicken Reel,” funny. Forget traditional holiday music! This concert’s music is all about birds. OLLI’s music will spark your imagination. You’ll hear the music while your mind’s eye sees a serious hen walking and a silly chicken dancing. You’ll see soaring birds and hear beautiful bird song.
“The Birds” (Italian: Gli Uccelli), was composed by Italian Ottorino Respighi. Dating from 1928, the composer transcribed birdsong into musical notation, and illustrated bird actions, such as fluttering wings or scratching feet. Movements include “The Dove,” “The Nightingale” and “The Cuckoo.” It’s exciting, delightful music that, when you close your eyes, you’ll soar among the trees with the violins.
“Lark Ascending” is a short work by English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, “The piece portrays the lark’s song, movement and ‘lifts us with him as he goes.’ Larks nest on the ground then fly up. The poem helps make sense of the piece,” explains violin soloist Jolán Friedhoff. The poem the music is based on is in the concert program.
Franz Joseph Haydn is called “Father of the Symphony.” OLLI will perform his “Symphony No. 83 in G minor,” popularly known as “The Hen” (French: La Poule). The nickname comes from the clucking second subject in the first movement, which reminded listeners of the jerky back-and-forth head motion of a walking hen.
This is not silly chicken music, though. You’ll have to wait until the last piece of the concert, “Chicken Reel,” for the folk song arranged for orchestra by Leroy Anderson. It’s been used for countless cartoons.
There’s no question that at this time of year our tea pots and coffee machines are doing extra duty. And the warm drink jokes are flying, too. Listeners send me the funniest ones, often about the need for coffee: “First I do the coffee, then I do the things,” and “The ‘ea’ in tea is silent,” were just two of the most recent.
But love of the warm cups isn’t something new. At the same time that coffee drinking was becoming widespread, 16th century clergymen were petitioning to have “this devil’s brew” banned. It wasn’t until Pope Clement VIII drank some, liked it and gave his blessing, that people felt free to drink without recrimination.
In the late 17th century, coffee houses started springing up all over Europe. What was it about this amazing drink that energized one into being more productive, even more creative? Composers not only loved their brews, they also saw coffee houses as places to perform music and coffee as a worthy music subject.
Georg Philipp Telemann jumped on the idea of coffee house concerts, in which you would bring new music to a place where people were already gathering. In 1701 he founded a music society, the Collegium Musicum, made up of university students who performed in one of Leipzig’s coffee houses. He later took that same idea with him to Frankfurt for performances in a private club where people drank coffee and smoked.
Telemann’s good friend, Johann Sebastian Bach, loved his coffee, too. What’s not known is whether or not he was already a coffee drinker when he took over Telemann’s Leipzig concerts at Gottfried Zimmermann’s coffeehouse. What is known is that some prominent Europeans of the day believed that coffee drinking could lead to an addiction that would result in poor morals for women, and possible impotence for men. It’s possible that the “evils” of coffee addiction were the underlying theme that drove Bach’s comic piece, Schweigt stille, plaudert nicht (“Be still, stop chattering”). In what has come to be known as his “Coffee Cantata,” a father tries to ban the drink to stop his daughter’s addiction.
Liesgen, the daughter, sings, “Coffee, I have to have coffee, and if someone wants to pamper me, ah, then bring coffee as a gift.” Later she claims that, without coffee, she will “turn into a shriveled-up roast goat.”
Her father goes so far as to say he’ll prevent her from marrying if she cannot stop drinking the brown brew. Liesgen says she‘ll tell potential suitors they must allow her to drink coffee if they are to marry. All ends well with her father writing into her marriage contract that she must be guaranteed three cups of coffee a day.
Here’s Ton Koopman and the Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra and guest soloists with the piece.
How much did Bach love his coffee? It is said that he could drink up to 30 cups a day!
Mozart also loved his coffee. In a 1791 letter to his wife, he wrote, “Right after you left I played two games of billiards … then I sold my nag for 14 ducats; then I had Joseph summon Primus and bring me black coffee, with which I smoked a wonderful pipe of tobacco; then I orchestrated almost all of Stadler’s rondo.” The description of working under a combination of caffeine and nicotine could easily have been written by someone today!
No surprise, then, that his characters mention coffee (and hot chocolate, which was also appreciated for its caffeine effect), in at least two of his operas. In Don Giovanni the protagonist calls to the servants to bring a drink which will make his intended conquest loosen up: “Ehi! caffè!” The character Leporello adds “Cioccolata!” To which the peasant Masetto answers “Ah, Zerlina, giudizio,” or “Ah, Zerlina, be careful!”
In Act 1, Scene 1, of the opera Così fan tutte, the old philosopher Don Alfonso is sitting in a coffee house, debating with other patrons about human nature, especially women’s nature. In the next scene Despina, the housemaid, is whipping hot chocolate for her mistresses, the sisters Dorabella and Fiordiligi. Here’s Teresa Stratas singing the role of the maid.
O dearest ladies, You have the substance, And I only the smell! Damnit, I’m going to try it. [She tastes it] Delicious! [She wipes her mouth] Someone’s coming! Goodness, it’s my ladies!
Although Mozart’s works often mention wine, it is pretty telling about the growing popularity of coffee and hot chocolate that they, too, are featured drinks.
Beethoven was also a coffee lover. One of the first things he did when he arrived in Vienna was to invite his teacher, Haydn, for a coffee. Later, he had instructions written for his housekeeper that he would start each day with a cup made from exactly 60 coffee beans.
The French writer Honoré de Balzac quoted the Italian opera composer Gioacchino Rossini as saying that the effects of what we’d call a “caffeine rush” today would wear down with time. “Coffee is a matter of fifteen or twenty days: luckily, the time to make an opera.”
If Beethoven was particular about his perfect cup, and Rossini was worried about a caffeine “plateau,” Glenn Gould had them beat on quantity. The celebrated Canadian pianist described himself in a 1979 TV documentary as regularly drinking “gallons of coffee.”
Two other composers known to frequent coffeehouses were Frédéric Chopin, and Heitor Villa-Lobos. Chopin began visiting cafés in Warsaw when he was a teenager so he could discuss Poland’s cultural life with other coffee drinkers. Villa-Lobos made quite a name for himself in Paris coffeehouses. The Brazilian composer held court and wove stories about exploring the Amazon jungle and confronting cannibals. People were enthralled by his tales, which turned out to be just that…made-up stories. But in the meantime, they got him local recognition.
The German composer Engelbert Humperdinck turned to the exotic with his 1898 Moorish Rhapsody. The three movements describe scenes Europeans could only imagine, including the bustling second movement’s “Night in a Moorish Coffee-House.” The Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra is conducted by Martin Fischer-Dieskau.
Not as much has been written about another caffeinated drink, tea, but there are a couple of pieces in the classical genre.
In 1924 the song “Tea for Two” was included in the Broadway musical No, No, Nanette. It was an instant hit for composer Vincent Youmans and lyricist Irving Caesar. A few years later, the Russian conductor Nikolai Malko bet composer Dmitri Shostakovich he couldn’t orchestrate a song after having heard a recording just once, and to do it in an hour. Malko chose “Tea for Two,” which Shostakovich re-named “Tahiti Trot.”
Shostakovich not only won the bet, he did the orchestration in about 45 minutes!
In 2002 composer Tan Dun composed an opera entitled Tea: A Mirror of Soul. Briefly, a prince-turned-monk teaches lessons about life through performing tea rituals. Here’s a little bit to give you “a taste.” Tan Dun conducts this performance in Suntory Hall, Tokyo
One of the poignant moments in this full-of-symbolism opera happens at the end, as one character dies and must drink the “tea of emptiness.”
Coffee, tea, and chocolate all appear in a holiday favorite. Tchaikovsky’s ballet, The Nutcracker, brings the lead characters, the Nutcracker Prince and the young girl, Clara, to the Palace of Sweets where Mother Ginger, Peppermint Sticks, and other delights dance before their honored guests.
Coffee is also known as the Arabian Dance. This is the scene from a Boston Ballet production:
Tea is known as the Chinese Dance. This video is from the Mariinsky Ballet.
And finally, Chocolate, the Spanish dance, is danced by New York City Ballet dancers dressed in chocolate-colored costumes.
What’s true is that whether you prefer your coffee, tea, and hot chocolate smooth, sweet, or robust…you’re sure to find something for everyone in smooth, sweet, or robust classical music.
CODA: Here’s a perfect song to wrap up how so many feel about their cups of warmth: Java Jive is often called “I love coffee, I love tea!” The King Sisters made it a huge hit in 1940.
Today’s Advent Calendar piece is an example of what may well prove to be a substantial body of work that we might call ‘Covid music’, composed during the pandemic. Hold, by Northern Irish composer Elaine Agnew, is a short work for string orchestra responding to the experience of lockdown in December 2020, when Agnew was “mindful of the word ‘hold’, and all that it suggests. That need of wanting to support each other, to hold and to keep ourselves and our families secure and safe, was foremost in our minds. We globally needed to hold each other and to hold ourselves up.”
That sentiment, though positive, is nonetheless driven by necessity in what were difficult, trying and upsetting circumstances. As such, Hold primarily exhibits a great deal of tension and discomfort. Throughout the opening minute, while a couple of soft, harmonically ambiguous chords move below, the violins sustain a high note overhead, something of an unsettling presence. That note is subsequently extended into a slow-moving line during what follows, a cautious, tight kind of lyricism, as if all the strings were moving in a confined space. The resultant, slightly gnarly, harmonies have a whiff of Berg to them, lending the music a conflicted blend of warmth and anxiety.
That ominous high violin line finally slides downward, leading to a brisk sequence filled with rhythmic pizzicati, a burst of movement that turns out to be short-lived: the high violin note returns, triggering a repeat of the work’s opening chords, a lyrical moment followed by another brief stab at energy. The aftermath of this is a beautiful though even more constricted upper string sequence that suddenly finds itself at a rich D major tried. The opening chords return, and the piece enters its most oblique episode, not merely slow and cautious but rather lost and forlorn. The D major triad and the opening chords return again but, as they repeat, their blurred major / minor tonality brings Hold to a close as a soft, poignant triadic mess.
The world première of Hold was performed by the Ulster Orchestra conducted by Jac van Steen.
Boris Berman performed music of Valentin Silvestrov Thursday night at the Baryshnikov Arts Center.
Valentin Silvestrov is the most prominent Ukrainian composer of the last 100 years. He is also one of the important voices that came out of classical music in the last years of the Soviet Union, working his way through and past the orthodoxies of both East and West.
Silvestrov met pianist Boris Berman, a decade his junior, in the Soviet Union in the 1960s. It was then that Berman began exploring Silvestrov’s music, a decades-long process that culminated in a sublime concert Tuesday night at the Baryshnikov Arts Center, where the pianist played music from the composer that spanned 60 years.
This was clearly just as much a personal as musical project. Berman spoke about each piece, delivering his own insights as well as passing along Silvestrov’s previous comments and explanations of his work.
Berman’s playing was deeply dedicated to the music. His touch was light and clear and also had a sense of determination to have the music sound as transparent and beautiful as possible. Berman spoke about the inherent delicacy and gentleness in Silvestrov’s aesthetic, which was merely one part of this performance—there was no concession to the expressive weight of Silvestrov’s composing. (Silvestrov is currently living in Berlin while Ukraine fights off Russia’s invasion.)
That quality was clear in the earliest work, Triad, from 1961-66, through Five Pieces (2021) and Three Pieces, March 2022. No matter the tonality, mood, or structure of the piece, there was a powerful sensation—something Berman brought out that one doesn’t often hear on recordings—of a deep expansiveness that came from an inward contraction. That was not a paradox; Silvestrov’s music has an introverted focus while also being completely open to the listener, he is like a performance art figure going about private tasks while featured in a display window.
The opening Triad switched between a skittering atonality and quizzical tonality, contrasting quickness and stillness. While post-Schoenberg atonality was the orthodoxy in the West, it was avant-garde among Silvestrov’s peers. The composer’s gradual move to tonality (also echoed in various ways by Alfred Schnittke and Arvo Pärt) disappointed them but Silvestrov followed a path that sounded clear in Triads and the following work, Sonata No. 2. The music seemed to explore multiple paths, but consistently teased out luminous, lyrical phrases that centered the expression and the listening experience.
Kitsch Music (1977) was a clear and palpable transition in this concert. Through Berman’s introduction, and especially his playing, one heard Silvestrov exploring both personal and cultural memory—tonality was more than a formal and structural means, it was a way to live inside, and at the forward edge of, history. That meant music with a fundamental simplicity, the goal to state a single idea, but that also kept recalling fragments of Brahms and Chopin.
Berman’s playing, which was already lovely, became special here and completely absorbing in its beauty and focus. This ran through the final two works (and the encore, Postludium), collections in a larger set of bagatelles.
Berman quoted Silvestrov as saying the bagatelles were “full of lofty insignificance,” and no critic could describe them better. The music’s recursive phrases were again fundamentally simple, but the way they came in repeated waves created accumulating, and gripping, sensations. The music insisted that even the smallest thing deserved attention, that the most private experiences were as profound as the most public utterances. This was profound musical art.
The paper, owned by Amazon’s Jeff Bezos, has laid off a dozen employees.
Prominent among them is the dance critic Sarah L. Kaufman, a Pulitzer Prize winner who has kept the flame burning for ballet in DC for half a century. She says: ‘By eliminating the dance critic position and all that dance coverage can be, The Washington Post is narrowing its arts journalism and its scope. I can’t fathom why this institution is shutting itself off to what dancers and choreographers have to say about our lives and the world we live in.’
