SKU: CF.MXE219
ISBN 9781491157794. UPC: 680160916399. 9 x 12 inches.
Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about HoffmeisterAs awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterA3despite scruples about treading on hallowed groundA3I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak MozartAs language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialA3MozartAs friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such A!improvementsA(r)A3I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were MozartAs A!blueprintsA(r) of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to A!flesh outA(r) the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composerAs dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the A!rightA(r) one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my BognerAs CafA recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888A+-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as A!a kind of keyboard chamber music.A(r) Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: A!The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldA3the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.A(r) That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called A!the crowning work of its kindA(r) by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of MozartAs mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltoA3an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementAs declamatory A!opera chorusA(r) persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The A!love duetA(r) between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned A!duettingA(r) between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the AndanteAs middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8a time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the A!Swiss clockA(r) section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my A!newA(r) Mozart Quintet endeavorsA3and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. A3Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeisteris awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterodespite scruples about treading on hallowed groundoI grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozartis language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialoMozartis friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such iimprovementsioI always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozartis iblueprintsi of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to iflesh outi the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composeris dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the irighti one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogneris CafE recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888n1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as ia kind of keyboard chamber music.i Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: iThe F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldothe world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.i That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called ithe crowning work of its kindi by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozartis mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltooan F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementis declamatory iopera chorusi persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The ilove dueti between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned iduettingi between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andanteis middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8+time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the iSwiss clocki section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my inewi Mozart Quintet endeavorsoand most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. oCompiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister's awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter--despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground--I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart's language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material--Mozart's friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such improvements--I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart's blueprints of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to flesh out the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer's dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the right one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogner's Cafe recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as a kind of keyboard chamber music. Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world--the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music. That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinu Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called the crowning work of its kind by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart's mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto--an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement's declamatory opera chorus persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E<= Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The love duet between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned duetting between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante's middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the Swiss clock section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinu Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my new Mozart Quintet endeavors--and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. --Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.PrefaceIn 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister’s awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter—despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground—I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart’s language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings.With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material—Mozart’s friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such “improvementsâ€â€”I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart’s “blueprints†of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to “flesh out†the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer’s dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the “right†one then became a most absorbing study.On the eve of releasing my Bogner’s Café recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888–1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as “a kind of keyboard chamber music.†Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: “The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world—the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.†That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet.Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinů Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called “the crowning work of its kind†by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart’s mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue.The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto—an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement’s declamatory “opera chorus†persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro.The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E≤ Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The “love duet†between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned “duetting†between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante’s middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement.In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the “Swiss clock†section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability.I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinů Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my “new†Mozart Quintet endeavors—and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990.—Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallmanby Hannah Woods Stallman,February 2, 2020.
SKU: BA.BA10303-01
ISBN 9790006559503. 33 x 26 cm inches. Key: C minor. Preface: Michael Stegemann.
The third symphony by Camille Saint-Saens, known as the Organ Symphony, is the first publication in a complete historical-critical edition of the French composer's instrumental works.I gave everything I was able to give in this work. [...] What I have done here I will never be able to do again.Camille Saint-Saens was rightly proud of his third Symphony in C minor Op.78, dedicated to the memory of Franz Liszt. Called theOrgan Symphonybecause of its novel scoring, the work was a commission from the Philharmonic Society in London, as was Beethoven's Ninth, and was premiered there on 19 May 1886. The first performance in Paris followed on 9 January 1887 and confirmed the composer's reputation asprobably the most significant, and certainly the most independent French symphonistof his time, as Ludwig Finscher wrote in MGG. In fact the work remains the only one in the history of that genre in France to the present day, composed a good half century after the Symphonie fantastique by Hector Berlioz and a good half century before Olivier Messiaen's Turangalila Symphonie.You would think that such a famous, much-performed and much recorded opus could not hold any more secrets, but far from it: in the first historical-critical edition of the Symphony, numerous inconsistencies and mistakes in the Durand edition in general use until now, have been uncovered and corrected. An examination and evaluation of the sources ranged from two early sketches, now preserved in Paris and Washington (in which the Symphony was still in B minor!) via the autograph manuscript and a set of proofs corrected by Saint-Saens himself, to the first and subsequent editions of the full score and parts. The versions for piano duet (by Leon Roques) and for two pianos (by the composer himself) were also consulted. Further crucial information was finally found in his extensive correspondence, encompassing thousands of previously unpublished letters. The discoveries made in producing this edition include the fact that at its London premiere, the Symphony probably looked quite different from its present appearance ...No less exciting than the work itself is the history of its composition and reception, which are described in an extensive foreword. With his Symphony, Saint-Saens entered right into the dispute which divided French musical life into pro and contra Wagner in the 1880s and 1890s. At the same time, the work succeeded in preserving the balance between tradition and modernism in masterly fashion, as a contemporary critic stated:The C minor Symphony by Saint-Saens creates a bridge from the past into the future, from immortal richness to progress, from ideas to their implementation.On 19 March 1886 Saint-Saens wrote to the London Philharmonic Society, which commissioned the work:Work on the symphony is in full swing. But I warn you, it will be terrible. Here is the precise instrumentation: 3 flutes / 2 oboes / 1 cor anglais / 2 clarinets / 1 bass clarinet / 2 bassoons / 1 contrabassoon / 2 natural horns / [3 trumpets / Saint-Saens had forgotten these in his listing.] 2 chromatic horns / 3 trombones / 1 tuba / 3 timpani / organ / 1 piano duet and the strings, of course. Fortunately, there are no harps. Unfortunately it will be difficult. I am doing what I can to mitigate the difficulties.As in my 4th Concerto [for piano] and my [1st] Violin Sonata [in D minor Op.75] at first glance there appear to be just two parts: the first Allegro and the Adagio, the Scherzo and the Finale, each attacca. This fiendish symphony has crept up by a semitone; it did not want to stay in B minor, and is now in C minor.It would be a pleasure for me to conduct this symphony. Whether it would be a pleasure for others to hear it? That is the question. It is you who wanted it, I wash my hands of it. I will bring the orchestral parts carefully corrected with me, and if anyone wants to give me a nice rehearsal for the symphony after the full rehearsal, everything will be fine.When Saint-Saens hit upon the idea of adding an organ and a piano to the usual orchestral scoring is not known. The idea of adding an organ part to a secular orchestral work intended for the concert hall was thoroughly novel - and not without controversy. On the other hand, Franz Liszt, whose music Saint-Saens' Symphony is so close to, had already demonstrated that the organ could easily be an orchestral instrument in his symphonic poem Hunnenschlacht (1856/57). There was also a model for the piano duet part which Saint-Saens knew and may possibly have used quite consciously as an exemplar: theFantaisie sur la Tempetefrom the lyrical monodrama Lelio, ou le retour a la Vie op. 14bis (1831) by Berlioz. The name of the organist at the premiere ist unknown, as, incidentally, was also the case with many of the later performances; the organ part is indeed not soloistic, but should be understood as part of the orchestral texture.In fact the subsequent success of the symphony seems to have represented a kind of breakthrough for the composer, who was then over 50 years of age.My dear composer of a famous symphony, wrote Saint-Saens' friend and pupil Gabriel Faure:You will never be able to imagine what a pleasure I had last Sunday [at the second performance on 16 January 1887]! And I had the score and did not miss a single note of this Symphony, which will endure much longer than we two, even if we were to join together our two lifespans!
About Barenreiter Urtext
What can I expect from a Barenreiter Urtext edition?
MUSICOLOGICALLY SOUND - A reliable musical text based on all available sources - A description of the sources - Information on the genesis and history of the work - Valuable notes on performance practice - Includes an introduction with critical commentary explaining source discrepancies and editorial decisions ... AND PRACTICAL - Page-turns, fold-out pages, and cues where you need them - A well-presented layout and a user-friendly format - Excellent print quality - Superior paper and binding
SKU: CF.YAS13F
ISBN 9780825848339. UPC: 798408048334. 8.5 X 11 inches. Key: G major.
IApart from some of his Sonatinas, Opus 36, Clementi's life and music are hardly known to the piano teachers and students of today. For example, in addition to the above mentioned Sonatinas, Clementi wrote sixty sonatas for the piano, many of them unjustly neglected, although his friend Beethoven regarded some of them very highly. Clementi also wrote symphonies (some of which he arranged as piano sonatas), a substantial number of waltzes and other dances for the piano as well as sonatas and sonatinas for piano four-hands.In addition to composing, Clementi was a much sought after piano teacher, and included among his students John Field (Father of the 'Nocturne'), and Meyerbeer.In his later years, Clementi became a very successful music publisher, publishing among other works the first English edition of Beethoven's Violin Concerto, in the great composer's own arrangement for the piano, as well as some of his string quartets. Clementi was also one of the first English piano manufacturers to make pianos with a metal frame and string them with wire.The Sonatina in C, Opus 36, No. 1 was one of six such works Clementi wrote in 1797. He must have been partial to these little pieces (for which he also provided the fingerings), since they were reissued (without the fingering) by the composer shortly after 1801. About 1820, he issued ''the sixth edition, with considerable improvements by the author;· with fingerings added and several minor changes, among which were that many of them were written an octave higher.IIIt has often been said, generally by those unhampered by the facts, that composers of the past (and, dare we add, the present?), usually handled their financial affairs with their public and publishers with a poor sense of business acumen or common sense. As a result they frequently found themselves in financial straits.Contrary to popular opinion, this was the exception rather than the rule. With the exception of Mozart and perhaps a few other composers, the majority of composers then, as now, were quite successful in their dealings with the public and their publishers, as the following examples will show.It was not unusual for 18th- and 19th-century composers to arrange some of their more popular compositions for different combinations of instruments in order to increase their availability to a larger music-playing public. Telemann, in the introduction to his seventy-two cantatas for solo voice and one melody instrument (flute, oboe or violin, with the usual continua) Der Harmonische Gottesdienst, tor example, suggests that if a singer is not available to perform a cantata the voice part could be played by another instrument. And in the introduction to his Six Concertos and Six Suites for flute, violin and continua, he named four different instrumental combinations that could perform these pieces, and actually wrote out the notes for the different possibilities. Bach arranged his violin concertos for keyboard, and Beethoven not only arranged his Piano Sonata in E Major, Opus 14, No. 1 for string quartet, he also transposed it to the key of F. Brahm's well-known Quintet in F Minor for piano and strings was his own arrangement of his earlier sonata for two pianos, also in F Minor.IIIWe come now to Clementi. It is well known that some of his sixty piano sonatas were his own arrangements of some of his lost symphonies, and that some of his rondos for piano four-hands were originally the last movements of his solo sonatas or piano trios.In order to make the first movement of his delightful Sonatina in C, Opus 36, No. 1 accessible to young string players, I have followed the example established by the composer himself by arranging and transposing one of his piano compositions from one medium (the piano) to another. (string instruments). In order to simplify the work for young string players, in the process of adapting it to the new medium it was necessary to transpose it from the original key of C to G, thereby doing away with some of the difficulties they would have encountered in the original key. The first violin and cello parts are similar to the right- and left-hand parts of the original piano version. The few changes I have made in these parts have been for the convenience of the string players, but in no way do they change the nature of the music.Since the original implied a harmonic framework in many places, I have added a second violin and viola part in such a way that they not only have interesting music to play, but also fill in some of the implied harmony without in any way detracting from the composition's musical value. Occasionally, it has been necessary to raise or lower a few passages an octave or to modify others slightly to make them more accessible for young players.It is hoped that the musical value of the composition has not been too compromised, and that students and teachers will come to enjoy this little piece in its new setting as much as pianists have in the original one. This arrangement may also be performed by a solo string quartet. When performed by a string orchestra, the double bass part may be omitted.- Douglas TownsendString editing by Amy Rosen.
About Carl Fischer Young String Orchestra Series
This series of Grade 2/Grade 2.5 pieces is designed for second and third year ensembles. The pieces in this series are characterized by:--Occasionally extending to third position--Keys carefully considered for appropriate difficulty--Addition of separate 2nd violin and viola parts--Viola T.C. part included--Increase in independence of parts over beginning levels
SKU: KU.GM-1911
ISBN 9790206202384. 9 x 12 inches.
Monumentum, Music for String Sextet, was written in 2014 to a commission from the Moritzburg Festival, The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center New York and the Kathe Kollwitz House in Moritzburg. It is dedicated to the cellist Jan Vogler. The world premiere took place on 19 August 2014 at the Moritzburg Festival, performed by Timothy Chooi & Mira Wang (violins), Roberto Diaz & Hartmut Rohde (violas), Jan Vogler & Harriet Krijgh (cellos). The American premiere took place on 7 May 2015 in the Lincoln Center with the Amphion String Quartet, the violist Yura Lee and the cellist Jan Vogler.The String Sextet Momentum commemorates the outbreak of the First World War, the death of Peter Kollwitz – who died as a volunteer, aged just 18, in the early weeks of the war – and the manner in which his mother, the artist Kathe Kollwitz, mourned the loss of her son. The artist worked through her pain by creating her most famous sculpture, The Mourning Parents. It stands today at the German soldiers’ cemetery at Vladslo in western Flanders, where her son Peter also lies buried. During the 18 years that she worked on the Parents, Kathe Kollwitz attended several concerts at the Volksbuhne in Berlin, where from January to February 1927 she heard Arthur Schnabel’s cycle of all the Beethoven piano sonatas. Schnabel performed the Sonata op. 111 in c minor on 26 February 1927, and this work touched her in particular, as we can read in her diary: “The strange flickering notes turned into flames – a moment of rapture, taking one into a different sphere, and the heavens opened almost as in the Ninth (Symphony). Then one found one’s way back – but it was a return after having been assured that there is a heaven. These notes are serene – confident – and good. Thank you, Schnabel!” This encounter with Beethoven’s last sonata inspired the artist to take up work again on her sculpture after a long interruption and to consider different possibilities for arranging the two figures. For this reason, the first minutes ofMomentum are derived from this sonata by Beethoven – though without it being quoted in an audible manner – and they leave their mark on the form of the Sextet. The number 18 and the date of Peter Kollwitz’s death (23 October 1914) also have a direct impact on the work’s dramaturgy. This music is mostly calm in nature, but is time and again interrupted unexpectedly, being disturbed by unruly sounds and vehement eruptions until time itself seems to dissolve in an aleatoric passage. The work ends with an extended lament on “seed corn should not be ground”, a line from Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister’s Journeyman Years. Kathe Kollwitz often quoted this phrase to argue for peace, and also took it as the title for a lithograph that she made in 1942. - David Philip Hefti
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