Daria Program Notes

Musical Offering: Ricercar a 3 (1747) Johann Sebastian Bach (1695-1750) One of Bach’s final two masterpieces (along with his Art of Fugue, uncompleted at his death), the Musical Offering was written after his meeting with King Frederick II in Potsdam, where one of his sons was employed as a court musician.  Upon his arrival, the elder Bach was directed to the keyboard, whereupon the king presented him with a fugue theme and requested Bach to play a three-voice fugue.  Bach did so, to the amazement of the audience, but then the king asked for another fugue to be improvised on the spot, only this time in six voices.  Bach then requested time to notate it, and two months later, sent the three-voice and six-voice fugues (the Ricercars), along with a series of canons in inverted, puzzle forms.  Although always the royal theme is at the core, its nature is introverted and far from earthly glory.

Choral Prelude, “Nun komm der heiden heiland” (trans. 1908) and Chaconne, from Partita no.2 in D minor for violin (trans. 1897) Johann Sebastian Bach, arr. Ferrucio Busoni (1866-1925)  From 1888 through 1910 the extraordinary pianist and composer Ferrucio Busoni bent his will (?) towards editorial work, revising and often recomposing many of the keyboard works of Bach and Liszt.  Along with a complete edition of the Well-Tempered Clavier (truly a radical approach to this pianists’ tome), he left behind nine choral-preludes, originally transcribed by Bach himself from his cantata-mass settings for organ.  In the performance-geared traditions of the pianists at the close of the nineteenth century (as opposed to the scholarly historical performance practices more commonly taught since then), Busoni transformed these choral preludes into a rich and thoroughly pianistic texture, as he said, “transcribed for the piano in chamber style.”  While it is immediately apparent that Busoni’s transcriptions for the piano would never have remotely fit on a harpsichord of Bach’s time, one can still very clearly hear the somber bass pedals of the organ in “Nun komm der heiden heiland,” and the voices that could be brought forth with a myriad of organ stop combinations.  In addition to his transcriptions of choral-preludes, as well as preludes, fugues, and toccatas, there was the Chaconne, the fifth and final movement (a movement longer than the sum of the other four) of Bach’s Second Partita for solo violin.  A chaconne is, by definition, a series of variations on a theme in triple meter, stressing the second beat of each measure.  This might ordinarily suggest a dance-like set of variations, as many of Bach’s contemporaries, including Handel, wrote, but here Bach sets out to stretch the musical, emotional, and technical limits to the utmost.  Brahms at one point transcribed the work for piano, left hand; Busoni instead reworks this into a massive display of pianism and contrapuntally rich tapestries, ushering forth probably the greatest of all Bach transcriptions.

Variations on Chopin’s Prelude in c minor, Op. 22/K. 213a (1922) Ferrucio Busoni  The young Busoni wrote his Chopin Variations at the incredible age of eighteen, a massive outpouring of pianistic and compositional virtuosity stretching for a solid half-hour.  This was one of his first truly important compositions, and though he claimed to have been something of a late-bloomer as a composer, he brought to the drawing board an incredible dialogue of new dissonances and ways of weaving Chopin through Busoni’s piano.  Tonight’s work is a late reworking of the youthful behemoth, reduced to only ten of the original variations, reordered, and with a much more brusque closing.

Romeo and Juliet, Op. 75 (1937) Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953) Originally commissioned by the Leningrad (later renamed Kirov) opera house in 1935, though ultimately commissioned by the Bolshoi in Moscow, Prokofiev’s stunning setting of Shakespeare’s classic tale was his first major work upon his return to the Soviet Union following a fourteen year stay in Europe.  Despite the promise of more performances, Prokofiev was struggling to remain in the good graces of the worst of the Stalinist regime; the purges were raging beneath the surface at the time of his return.  His compatriot Shostakovich’s opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk had been performed eighty-three times, yet following a performance at which Stalin attended and walked out after the first act, calling the music “degenerate,” a politically condemning review of Lady Macbeth was issued, together with Stalin’s decree that music should be, among other things, “realistic (not too dissonant),” and eulogize the State.  This was a severe threat not only to Shostakovich, but to all Soviet artists, especially Prokofiev and his non-Russian wife. 

Here in Romeo and Juliet, Prokofiev was able to write colorful and clear music, and most importantly to set it to a timeless and politically safe story.  In 1937 Prokofiev selected ten pieces to transcribe for solo piano, and premiered the setting himself later that year.  Notably, this transcription only takes us partway through the journey of the epic, coming to a heartbreaking close at the point of the two lovers’ final hopeful departure in life from each other.  While the audience of course knows the fate of the couple, this music hangs painfully at a point of infinite hope and sadness.  To those who are further interested and wish to visualize the music’s basis, a video performance of Rudolf Nureyev and Margot Fonteyn is a remarkable interpretation of the ballet.

Season Ticket prices this year are $50 per Ticket.
Admission at the door is $20.  Student Ticket is $10 at the door.