(b. Bonn, Germany, 1770; d. Vienna, 1827)
Beethoven composed his Fifth Piano Concerto in 1809. It is scored for two each of flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns and trumpets; timpani; strings; and solo piano.
In 1809, Beethoven weathered the eruption of yet another Franco-Austrian war that brought chaos to the imperial capital. In the midst of this turmoil, Beethoven completed his fifth and final piano concerto, a weighty and triumphant work in E-flat. Six years earlier, the Eroica Symphony (No. 3, in the same key) led Beethoven into his heroic “middle period,” and the Piano Concerto No. 5, with its Emperor nickname, stands as a fitting bookend to that prolific and revolutionary stretch of composition. By that point, Beethoven had evolved his concerto style beyond the daunting shadow of Mozart and his 27 piano concertos. Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto, which premiered in 1808, pushed the genre toward uncommon intimacy; the Fifth would follow as an exercise in grandiosity. This most symphonic of the concertos was the only one Beethoven did not perform himself, given the deteriorated state of his hearing. It was also one of a handful of works that Beethoven dedicated to the Archduke Rudolph, youngest brother of the Emperor Franz. More than just a patron, Rudolph was a piano student of Beethoven’s from the age of 16, and the two maintained a warm friendship until the composer’s death.
The Emperor Concerto seems to be at its climax before it has even begun: The orchestra plays a firm tonic chord, then yields to the piano for a virtuosic cadenza. Only after two more chords from the orchestra, interspersed with another extended piano solo, does the concerto finally reach its opening tutti. The massive first movement maintains this grand posture throughout, living up to the piece’s nickname (the source of which is unknown, although it certainly did not come from Beethoven). Rounding out the work is a resplendent slow movement in the remote key of B major, which then craftily descends to B-flat, setting up a transition without pause into the romping finale. The Rondo’s principal theme generates extra propulsion through its unexpected climax on an accented offbeat.
© 2009 Aaron Grad
(b. Neustadt, Germany, 1952)
Goebbels composed Songs of Wars I Have Seen in 2007. It is scored for flute (doubling on piccolo), oboe, clarinet (doubling on bass clarinet), bassoon, horn, trumpet, trombone, two percussion, harp, piano (doubling on harpsichord), sampler, theorbo and strings.
Heiner Goebbels enjoys an international reputation as a composer of masterful and genre-bending large works. He has applied his unique synthesis of classical, music theater and popular styles in settings ranging from an art-rock trio to a full-length opera. One of his recent works for the concert stage, Songs of Wars I Have Seen, received its premiere in 2007 to mark the re-launch of London’s Southbank Centre. The first performance featured both the London Sinfonietta and the period-instrument Orchestra of the Age of the Enlightenment, but the ensembles were not employed as one might expect. Goebbels calls for the male musicians to sit in a row at the back of the stage and for the female musicians to form a semicircle in front. The women multitask by reading aloud the Gertrude Stein text upon which the work is based.
As explained in the musical score, “the title ‘Songs’ does not mean that the words are to be sung, but rather responds to the light, relaxed repetitive and songlike form of the 26 movements of this cycle.” Indeed, Stein’s text is a marvel of flip musings that, through repetition and shading, take on the spirit of sage aphorisms. Goebbels’ setting transposes Stein’s reflections from 1945 into our own turbulent times, building layer upon layer of reference and nostalgia. The text itself looks backwards, with passages on Shakespeare and the 19th century, and Goebbels echoes this with his own musical reminiscences, including snippets of Matthew Locke’s 1674 music for The Tempest as well as self-quotation from the 2002 opera Landscape with Distant Relatives. One key to the intimacy Goebbels achieves in these unconventional concert works is the amplification of each instrument and speaking voice, which conveys subtle details that would otherwise be lost in a large concert hall.
© 2009 Aaron Grad