| Transcriptions of Lieder Piano seul Carl Fischer
Chamber Music Piano SKU: CF.PL1056 Composed by Clara Wieck-Schumann, Fran...(+)
Chamber Music Piano
SKU: CF.PL1056
Composed by Clara
Wieck-Schumann, Franz
Schubert, and Robert
Schumann. Edited by
Nicholas Hopkins.
Collection. With Standard
notation. 128 pages. Carl
Fischer Music #PL1056.
Published by Carl Fischer
Music (CF.PL1056).
ISBN 9781491153390.
UPC: 680160910892.
Transcribed by Franz
Liszt. Introduction
It is true that Schubert
himself is somewhat to
blame for the very
unsatisfactory manner in
which his admirable piano
pieces are treated. He
was too immoderately
productive, wrote
incessantly, mixing
insignificant with
important things, grand
things with mediocre
work, paid no heed to
criticism, and always
soared on his wings. Like
a bird in the air, he
lived in music and sang
in angelic fashion.
--Franz Liszt, letter to
Dr. S. Lebert (1868) Of
those compositions that
greatly interest me,
there are only Chopin's
and yours. --Franz Liszt,
letter to Robert Schumann
(1838) She [Clara
Schumann] was astounded
at hearing me. Her
compositions are really
very remarkable,
especially for a woman.
There is a hundred times
more creativity and real
feeling in them than in
all the past and present
fantasias by Thalberg.
--Franz Liszt, letter to
Marie d'Agoult (1838)
Chretien Urhan
(1790-1845) was a
Belgian-born violinist,
organist and composer who
flourished in the musical
life of Paris in the
early nineteenth century.
According to various
accounts, he was deeply
religious, harshly
ascetic and wildly
eccentric, though revered
by many important and
influential members of
the Parisian musical
community. Regrettably,
history has forgotten
Urhan's many musical
achievements, the most
important of which was
arguably his pioneering
work in promoting the
music of Franz Schubert.
He devoted much of his
energies to championing
Schubert's music, which
at the time was unknown
outside of Vienna.
Undoubtedly, Urhan was
responsible for
stimulating this
enthusiasm in Franz
Liszt; Liszt regularly
heard Urhan's organ
playing in the
St.-Vincent-de-Paul
church in Paris, and the
two became personal
acquaintances. At
eighteen years of age,
Liszt was on the verge of
establishing himself as
the foremost pianist in
Europe, and this
awakening to Schubert's
music would prove to be a
profound experience.
Liszt's first travels
outside of his native
provincial Hungary were
to Vienna in 1821-1823,
where his father enrolled
him in studies with Carl
Czerny (piano) and
Antonio Salieri (music
theory). Both men had
important involvements
with Schubert; Czerny
(like Urhan) as performer
and advocate of
Schubert's music and
Salieri as his theory and
composition teacher from
1813-1817. Curiously,
Liszt and Schubert never
met personally, despite
their geographical
proximity in Vienna
during these years.
Inevitably, legends later
arose that the two had
been personal
acquaintances, although
Liszt would dismiss these
as fallacious: I never
knew Schubert personally,
he was once quoted as
saying. Liszt's initial
exposure to Schubert's
music was the Lieder,
what Urhan prized most of
all. He accompanied the
tenor Benedict
Randhartinger in numerous
performances of
Schubert's Lieder and
then, perhaps realizing
that he could benefit the
composer more on his own
terms, transcribed a
number of the Lieder for
piano solo. Many of these
transcriptions he would
perform himself on
concert tour during the
so-called Glanzzeit, or
time of splendor from
1839-1847. This publicity
did much to promote
reception of Schubert's
music throughout Europe.
Once Liszt retired from
the concert stage and
settled in Weimar as a
conductor in the 1840s,
he continued to perform
Schubert's orchestral
music, his Symphony No. 9
being a particular
favorite, and is credited
with giving the world
premiere performance of
Schubert's opera Alfonso
und Estrella in 1854. At
this time, he
contemplated writing a
biography of the
composer, which
regrettably remained
uncompleted. Liszt's
devotion to Schubert
would never waver.
Liszt's relationship with
Robert and Clara Schumann
was far different and far
more complicated; by
contrast, they were all
personal acquaintances.
What began as a
relationship of mutual
respect and admiration
soon deteriorated into
one of jealousy and
hostility, particularly
on the Schumann's part.
Liszt's initial contact
with Robert's music
happened long before they
had met personally, when
Liszt published an
analysis of Schumann's
piano music for the
Gazette musicale in 1837,
a gesture that earned
Robert's deep
appreciation. In the
following year Clara met
Liszt during a concert
tour in Vienna and
presented him with more
of Schumann's piano
music. Clara and her
father Friedrich Wieck,
who accompanied Clara on
her concert tours, were
quite taken by Liszt: We
have heard Liszt. He can
be compared to no other
player...he arouses
fright and astonishment.
His appearance at the
piano is indescribable.
He is an original...he is
absorbed by the piano.
Liszt, too, was impressed
with Clara--at first the
energy, intelligence and
accuracy of her piano
playing and later her
compositions--to the
extent that he dedicated
to her the 1838 version
of his Etudes d'execution
transcendante d'apres
Paganini. Liszt had a
closer personal
relationship with Clara
than with Robert until
the two men finally met
in 1840. Schumann was
astounded by Liszt's
piano playing. He wrote
to Clara that Liszt had
played like a god and had
inspired indescribable
furor of applause. His
review of Liszt even
included a heroic
personification with
Napoleon. In Leipzig,
Schumann was deeply
impressed with Liszt's
interpretations of his
Noveletten, Op. 21 and
Fantasy in C Major, Op.
17 (dedicated to Liszt),
enthusiastically
observing that, I feel as
if I had known you twenty
years. Yet a variety of
events followed that
diminished Liszt's glory
in the eyes of the
Schumanns. They became
critical of the cult-like
atmosphere that arose
around his recitals, or
Lisztomania as it came to
be called; conceivably,
this could be attributed
to professional jealousy.
Clara, in particular,
came to loathe Liszt,
noting in a letter to
Joseph Joachim, I despise
Liszt from the depths of
my soul. She recorded a
stunning diary entry a
day after Liszt's death,
in which she noted, He
was an eminent keyboard
virtuoso, but a dangerous
example for the
young...As a composer he
was terrible. By
contrast, Liszt did not
share in these negative
sentiments; no evidence
suggests that he had any
ill-regard for the
Schumanns. In Weimar, he
did much to promote
Schumann's music,
conducting performances
of his Scenes from Faust
and Manfred, during a
time in which few
orchestras expressed
interest, and premiered
his opera Genoveva. He
later arranged a benefit
concert for Clara
following Robert's death,
featuring Clara as
soloist in Robert's Piano
Concerto, an event that
must have been
exhilarating to witness.
Regardless, her opinion
of him would never
change, despite his
repeated gestures of
courtesy and respect.
Liszt's relationship with
Schubert was a spiritual
one, with music being the
one and only link between
the two men. That with
the Schumanns was
personal, with music
influenced by a hero
worship that would
aggravate the
relationship over time.
Nonetheless, Liszt would
remain devoted to and
enthusiastic for the
music and achievements of
these composers. He would
be a vital force in
disseminating their music
to a wider audience, as
he would be with many
other composers
throughout his career.
His primary means for
accomplishing this was
the piano transcription.
Liszt and the
Transcription
Transcription versus
Paraphrase Transcription
and paraphrase were
popular terms in
nineteenth-century music,
although certainly not
unique to this period.
Musicians understood that
there were clear
distinctions between
these two terms, but as
is often the case these
distinctions could be
blurred. Transcription,
literally writing over,
entails reworking or
adapting a piece of music
for a performance medium
different from that of
its original; arrangement
is a possible synonym.
Adapting is a key part of
this process, for the
success of a
transcription relies on
the transcriber's ability
to adapt the piece to the
different medium. As a
result, the pre-existing
material is generally
kept intact, recognizable
and intelligible; it is
strict, literal,
objective. Contextual
meaning is maintained in
the process, as are
elements of style and
form. Paraphrase, by
contrast, implies
restating something in a
different manner, as in a
rewording of a document
for reasons of clarity.
In nineteenth-century
music, paraphrasing
indicated elaborating a
piece for purposes of
expressive virtuosity,
often as a vehicle for
showmanship. Variation is
an important element, for
the source material may
be varied as much as the
paraphraser's imagination
will allow; its purpose
is metamorphosis.
Transcription is adapting
and arranging;
paraphrasing is
transforming and
reworking. Transcription
preserves the style of
the original; paraphrase
absorbs the original into
a different style.
Transcription highlights
the original composer;
paraphrase highlights the
paraphraser.
Approximately half of
Liszt's compositional
output falls under the
category of transcription
and paraphrase; it is
noteworthy that he never
used the term
arrangement. Much of his
early compositional
activities were
transcriptions and
paraphrases of works of
other composers, such as
the symphonies of
Beethoven and Berlioz,
vocal music by Schubert,
and operas by Donizetti
and Bellini. It is
conceivable that he
focused so intently on
work of this nature early
in his career as a means
to perfect his
compositional technique,
although transcription
and paraphrase continued
well after the technique
had been mastered; this
might explain why he
drastically revised and
rewrote many of his
original compositions
from the 1830s (such as
the Transcendental Etudes
and Paganini Etudes) in
the 1850s. Charles Rosen,
a sympathetic interpreter
of Liszt's piano works,
observes, The new
revisions of the
Transcendental Etudes are
not revisions but concert
paraphrases of the old,
and their art lies in the
technique of
transformation. The
Paganini etudes are piano
transcriptions of violin
etudes, and the
Transcendental Etudes are
piano transcriptions of
piano etudes. The
principles are the same.
He concludes by noting,
Paraphrase has shaded off
into
composition...Composition
and paraphrase were not
identical for him, but
they were so closely
interwoven that
separation is impossible.
The significance of
transcription and
paraphrase for Liszt the
composer cannot be
overstated, and the
mutual influence of each
needs to be better
understood. Undoubtedly,
Liszt the composer as we
know him today would be
far different had he not
devoted so much of his
career to transcribing
and paraphrasing the
music of others. He was
perhaps one of the first
composers to contend that
transcription and
paraphrase could be
genuine art forms on
equal par with original
pieces; he even claimed
to be the first to use
these two terms to
describe these classes of
arrangements. Despite the
success that Liszt
achieved with this type
of work, others viewed it
with circumspection and
criticism. Robert
Schumann, although deeply
impressed with Liszt's
keyboard virtuosity, was
harsh in his criticisms
of the transcriptions.
Schumann interpreted them
as indicators that
Liszt's virtuosity had
hindered his
compositional development
and suggested that Liszt
transcribed the music of
others to compensate for
his own compositional
deficiencies.
Nonetheless, Liszt's
piano transcriptions,
what he sometimes called
partitions de piano (or
piano scores), were
instrumental in promoting
composers whose music was
unknown at the time or
inaccessible in areas
outside of major European
capitals, areas that
Liszt willingly toured
during his Glanzzeit. To
this end, the
transcriptions had to be
literal arrangements for
the piano; a Beethoven
symphony could not be
introduced to an
unknowing audience if its
music had been subjected
to imaginative
elaborations and
variations. The same
would be true of the 1833
transcription of
Berlioz's Symphonie
fantastique (composed
only three years
earlier), the
astonishingly novel
content of which would
necessitate a literal and
intelligible rendering.
Opera, usually more
popular and accessible
for the general public,
was a different matter,
and in this realm Liszt
could paraphrase the
original and manipulate
it as his imagination
would allow without
jeopardizing its
reception; hence, the
paraphrases on the operas
of Bellini, Donizetti,
Mozart, Meyerbeer and
Verdi. Reminiscence was
another term coined by
Liszt for the opera
paraphrases, as if the
composer were reminiscing
at the keyboard following
a memorable evening at
the opera. Illustration
(reserved on two
occasions for Meyerbeer)
and fantasy were
additional terms. The
operas of Wagner were
exceptions. His music was
less suited to paraphrase
due to its general lack
of familiarity at the
time. Transcription of
Wagner's music was thus
obligatory, as it was of
Beethoven's and Berlioz's
music; perhaps the
composer himself insisted
on this approach. Liszt's
Lieder Transcriptions
Liszt's initial
encounters with
Schubert's music, as
mentioned previously,
were with the Lieder. His
first transcription of a
Schubert Lied was Die
Rose in 1833, followed by
Lob der Tranen in 1837.
Thirty-nine additional
transcriptions appeared
at a rapid pace over the
following three years,
and in 1846, the Schubert
Lieder transcriptions
would conclude, by which
point he had completed
fifty-eight, the most of
any composer. Critical
response to these
transcriptions was highly
favorable--aside from the
view held by
Schumann--particularly
when Liszt himself played
these pieces in concert.
Some were published
immediately by Anton
Diabelli, famous for the
theme that inspired
Beethoven's variations.
Others were published by
the Viennese publisher
Tobias Haslinger (one of
Beethoven's and
Schubert's publishers in
the 1820s), who sold his
reserves so quickly that
he would repeatedly plead
for more. However,
Liszt's enthusiasm for
work of this nature soon
became exhausted, as he
noted in a letter of 1839
to the publisher
Breitkopf und Hartel:
That good Haslinger
overwhelms me with
Schubert. I have just
sent him twenty-four new
songs (Schwanengesang and
Winterreise), and for the
moment I am rather tired
of this work. Haslinger
was justified in his
demands, for the Schubert
transcriptions were
received with great
enthusiasm. One Gottfried
Wilhelm Fink, then editor
of the Allgemeine
musikalische Zeitung,
observed of these
transcriptions: Nothing
in recent memory has
caused such sensation and
enjoyment in both
pianists and audiences as
these arrangements...The
demand for them has in no
way been satisfied; and
it will not be until
these arrangements are
seen on pianos
everywhere. They have
indeed made quite a
splash. Eduard Hanslick,
never a sympathetic
critic of Liszt's music,
acknowledged thirty years
after the fact that,
Liszt's transcriptions of
Schubert Lieder were
epoch-making. There was
hardly a concert in which
Liszt did not have to
play one or two of
them--even when they were
not listed on the
program. These
transcriptions quickly
became some of his most
sough-after pieces,
despite their extreme
technical demands.
Leading pianists of the
day, such as Clara Wieck
and Sigismond Thalberg,
incorporated them into
their concert programs
immediately upon
publication. Moreover,
the transcriptions would
serve as inspirations for
other composers, such as
Stephen Heller, Cesar
Franck and later Leopold
Godowsky, all of whom
produced their own
transcriptions of
Schubert's Lieder. Liszt
would transcribe the
Lieder of other composers
as well, including those
by Mendelssohn, Chopin,
Anton Rubinstein and even
himself. Robert Schumann,
of course, would not be
ignored. The first
transcription of a
Schumann Lied was the
celebrated Widmung from
Myrten in 1848, the only
Schumann transcription
that Liszt completed
during the composer's
lifetime. (Regrettably,
there is no evidence of
Schumann's regard of this
transcription, or even if
he was aware of it.) From
the years 1848-1881,
Liszt transcribed twelve
of Robert Schumann's
Lieder (including one
orchestral Lied) and
three of Clara (one from
each of her three
published Lieder cycles);
he would transcribe no
other works of these two
composers. The Schumann
Lieder transcriptions,
contrary to those of
Schubert, are literal
arrangements, posing, in
general, far fewer
demands on the pianist's
technique. They are
comparatively less
imaginative in their
treatment of the original
material. Additionally,
they seem to have been
less valued in their day
than the Schubert
transcriptions, and it is
noteworthy that none of
the Schumann
transcriptions bear
dedications, as most of
the Schubert
transcriptions do. The
greatest challenge posed
by Lieder transcriptions,
regardless of the
composer or the nature of
the transcription, was to
combine the vocal and
piano parts of the
original such that the
character of each would
be preserved, a challenge
unique to this form of
transcription. Each part
had to be intact and
aurally recognizable, the
vocal line in particular.
Complications could be
manifold in a Lied that
featured dissimilar
parts, such as Schubert's
Auf dem Wasser zu singen,
whose piano accompaniment
depicts the rocking of
the boat on the
shimmering waves while
the vocal line reflects
on the passing of time.
Similar complications
would be encountered in
Gretchen am Spinnrade, in
which the ubiquitous
sixteenth-note pattern in
the piano's right hand
epitomizes the
ever-turning spinning
wheel over which the
soprano voice expresses
feelings of longing and
heartache. The resulting
transcriptions for solo
piano would place
exceptional demands on
the pianist. The
complications would be
far less imposing in
instances in which voice
and piano were less
differentiated, as in
many of Schumann's Lieder
that Liszt transcribed.
The piano parts in these
Lieder are true
accompaniments for the
voice, providing harmonic
foundation and rhythmic
support by doubling the
vocal line throughout.
The transcriptions, thus,
are strict and literal,
with far fewer demands on
both pianist and
transcriber. In all of
Liszt's Lieder
transcriptions,
regardless of the way in
which the two parts are
combined, the melody
(i.e. the vocal line) is
invariably the focal
point; the melody should
sing on the piano, as if
it were the voice. The
piano part, although
integral to contributing
to the character of the
music, is designed to
function as
accompaniment. A singing
melody was a crucial
objective in
nineteenth-century piano
performance, which in
part might explain the
zeal in transcribing and
paraphrasing vocal music
for the piano. Friedrich
Wieck, father and teacher
of Clara Schumann,
stressed this point
repeatedly in his 1853
treatise Clavier und
Gesang (Piano and Song):
When I speak in general
of singing, I refer to
that species of singing
which is a form of
beauty, and which is a
foundation for the most
refined and most perfect
interpretation of music;
and, above all things, I
consider the culture of
beautiful tones the basis
for the finest possible
touch on the piano. In
many respects, the piano
and singing should
explain and supplement
each other. They should
mutually assist in
expressing the sublime
and the noble, in forms
of unclouded beauty. Much
of Liszt's piano music
should be interpreted
with this concept in
mind, the Lieder
transcriptions and opera
paraphrases, in
particular. To this end,
Liszt provided numerous
written instructions to
the performer to
emphasize the vocal line
in performance, with
Italian directives such
as un poco marcato il
canto, accentuato assai
il canto and ben
pronunziato il canto.
Repeated indications of
cantando,singend and
espressivo il canto
stress the significance
of the singing tone. As
an additional means of
achieving this and
providing the performer
with access to the
poetry, Liszt insisted,
at what must have been a
publishing novelty at the
time, on printing the
words of the Lied in the
music itself. Haslinger,
seemingly oblivious to
Liszt's intent, initially
printed the poems of the
early Schubert
transcriptions separately
inside the front covers.
Liszt argued that the
transcriptions must be
reprinted with the words
underlying the notes,
exactly as Schubert had
done, a request that was
honored by printing the
words above the
right-hand staff. Liszt
also incorporated a
visual scheme for
distinguishing voice and
accompaniment, influenced
perhaps by Chopin, by
notating the
accompaniment in cue
size. His transcription
of Robert Schumann's
Fruhlings Ankunft
features the vocal line
in normal size, the piano
accompaniment in reduced
size, an unmistakable
guide in a busy texture
as to which part should
be emphasized: Example 1.
Schumann-Liszt Fruhlings
Ankunft, mm. 1-2. The
same practice may be
found in the
transcription of
Schumann's An die Turen
will ich schleichen. In
this piece, the performer
must read three staves,
in which the baritone
line in the central staff
is to be shared between
the two hands based on
the stem direction of the
notes: Example 2.
Schumann-Liszt An die
Turen will ich
schleichen, mm. 1-5. This
notational practice is
extremely beneficial in
this instance, given the
challenge of reading
three staves and the
manner in which the vocal
line is performed by the
two hands. Curiously,
Liszt did not use this
practice in other
transcriptions.
Approaches in Lieder
Transcription Liszt
adopted a variety of
approaches in his Lieder
transcriptions, based on
the nature of the source
material, the ways in
which the vocal and piano
parts could be combined
and the ways in which the
vocal part could sing.
One approach, common with
strophic Lieder, in which
the vocal line would be
identical in each verse,
was to vary the register
of the vocal part. The
transcription of Lob der
Tranen, for example,
incorporates three of the
four verses of the
original Lied, with the
register of the vocal
line ascending one octave
with each verse (from low
to high), as if three
different voices were
participating. By the
conclusion, the music
encompasses the entire
range of Liszt's keyboard
to produce a stunning
climactic effect, and the
variety of register of
the vocal line provides a
welcome textural variety
in the absence of the
words. The three verses
of the transcription of
Auf dem Wasser zu singen
follow the same approach,
in which the vocal line
ascends from the tenor,
to the alto and to the
soprano registers with
each verse.
Fruhlingsglaube adopts
the opposite approach, in
which the vocal line
descends from soprano in
verse 1 to tenor in verse
2, with the second part
of verse 2 again resuming
the soprano register;
this is also the case in
Das Wandern from
Mullerlieder. Gretchen am
Spinnrade posed a unique
problem. Since the poem's
narrator is female, and
the poem represents an
expression of her longing
for her lover Faust,
variation of the vocal
line's register, strictly
speaking, would have been
impractical. For this
reason, the vocal line
remains in its original
register throughout,
relentlessly colliding
with the sixteenth-note
pattern of the
accompaniment. One
exception may be found in
the fifth and final verse
in mm. 93-112, at which
point the vocal line is
notated in a higher
register and doubled in
octaves. This sudden
textural change, one that
is readily audible, was a
strategic means to
underscore Gretchen's
mounting anxiety (My
bosom urges itself toward
him. Ah, might I grasp
and hold him! And kiss
him as I would wish, at
his kisses I should
die!). The transcription,
thus, becomes a vehicle
for maximizing the
emotional content of the
poem, an exceptional
undertaking with the
general intent of a
transcription. Registral
variation of the vocal
part also plays a crucial
role in the transcription
of Erlkonig. Goethe's
poem depicts the death of
a child who is
apprehended by a
supernatural Erlking, and
Schubert, recognizing the
dramatic nature of the
poem, carefully depicted
the characters (father,
son and Erlking) through
unique vocal writing and
accompaniment patterns:
the Lied is a dramatic
entity. Liszt, in turn,
followed Schubert's
characterization in this
literal transcription,
yet took it an additional
step by placing the
register of the father's
vocal line in the
baritone range, that of
the son in the soprano
range and that of the
Erlking in the highest
register, options that
would not have been
available in the version
for voice and piano.
Additionally, Liszt
labeled each appearance
of each character in the
score, a means for
guiding the performer in
interpreting the dramatic
qualities of the Lied. As
a result, the drama and
energy of the poem are
enhanced in this
transcription; as with
Gretchen am Spinnrade,
the transcriber has
maximized the content of
the original. Elaboration
may be found in certain
Lieder transcriptions
that expand the
performance to a level of
virtuosity not found in
the original; in such
cases, the transcription
approximates the
paraphrase. Schubert's Du
bist die Ruh, a paradigm
of musical simplicity,
features an uncomplicated
piano accompaniment that
is virtually identical in
each verse. In Liszt's
transcription, the
material is subjected to
a highly virtuosic
treatment that far
exceeds the original,
including a demanding
passage for the left hand
alone in the opening
measures and unique
textural writing in each
verse. The piece is a
transcription in
virtuosity; its art, as
Rosen noted, lies in the
technique of
transformation.
Elaboration may entail an
expansion of the musical
form, as in the extensive
introduction to Die
Forelle and a virtuosic
middle section (mm.
63-85), both of which are
not in the original. Also
unique to this
transcription are two
cadenzas that Liszt
composed in response to
the poetic content. The
first, in m. 93 on the
words und eh ich es
gedacht (and before I
could guess it), features
a twisted chromatic
passage that prolongs and
thereby heightens the
listener's suspense as to
the fate of the trout
(which is ultimately
caught). The second, in
m. 108 on the words
Betrogne an (and my blood
boiled as I saw the
betrayed one), features a
rush of
diminished-seventh
arpeggios in both hands,
epitomizing the poet's
rage at the fisherman for
catching the trout. Less
frequent are instances in
which the length of the
original Lied was
shortened in the
transcription, a tendency
that may be found with
certain strophic Lieder
(e.g., Der Leiermann,
Wasserflut and Das
Wandern). Another
transcription that
demonstrates Liszt's
readiness to modify the
original in the interests
of the poetic content is
Standchen, the seventh
transcription from
Schubert's
Schwanengesang. Adapted
from Act II of
Shakespeare's Cymbeline,
the poem represents the
repeated beckoning of a
man to his lover. Liszt
transformed the Lied into
a miniature drama by
transcribing the vocal
line of the first verse
in the soprano register,
that of the second verse
in the baritone register,
in effect, creating a
dialogue between the two
lovers. In mm. 71-102,
the dialogue becomes a
canon, with one voice
trailing the other like
an echo (as labeled in
the score) at the
distance of a beat. As in
other instances, the
transcription resembles
the paraphrase, and it is
perhaps for this reason
that Liszt provided an
ossia version that is
more in the nature of a
literal transcription.
The ossia version, six
measures shorter than
Schubert's original, is
less demanding
technically than the
original transcription,
thus representing an
ossia of transcription
and an ossia of piano
technique. The Schumann
Lieder transcriptions, in
general, display a less
imaginative treatment of
the source material.
Elaborations are less
frequently encountered,
and virtuosity is more
restricted, as if the
passage of time had
somewhat tamed the
composer's approach to
transcriptions;
alternatively, Liszt was
eager to distance himself
from the fierce
virtuosity of his early
years. In most instances,
these transcriptions are
literal arrangements of
the source material, with
the vocal line in its
original form combined
with the accompaniment,
which often doubles the
vocal line in the
original Lied. Widmung,
the first of the Schumann
transcriptions, is one
exception in the way it
recalls the virtuosity of
the Schubert
transcriptions of the
1830s. Particularly
striking is the closing
section (mm. 58-73), in
which material of the
opening verse (right
hand) is combined with
the triplet quarter notes
(left hand) from the
second section of the
Lied (mm. 32-43), as if
the transcriber were
attempting to reconcile
the different material of
these two sections.
Fruhlingsnacht resembles
a paraphrase by
presenting each of the
two verses in differing
registers (alto for verse
1, mm. 3-19, and soprano
for verse 2, mm. 20-31)
and by concluding with a
virtuosic section that
considerably extends the
length of the original
Lied. The original
tonalities of the Lieder
were generally retained
in the transcriptions,
showing that the tonality
was an important part of
the transcription
process. The infrequent
instances of
transposition were done
for specific reasons. In
1861, Liszt transcribed
two of Schumann's Lieder,
one from Op. 36 (An den
Sonnenschein), another
from Op. 27 (Dem roten
Roslein), and merged
these two pieces in the
collection 2 Lieder; they
share only the common
tonality of A major. His
choice for combining
these two Lieder remains
unknown, but he clearly
recognized that some
tonal variety would be
needed, for which reason
Dem roten Roslein was
transposed to C>= major.
The collection features
An den Sonnenschein in A
major (with a transition
to the new tonality),
followed by Dem roten
Roslein in C>= major
(without a change of key
signature), and
concluding with a reprise
of An den Sonnenschein in
A major. A three-part
form was thus established
with tonal variety
provided by keys in third
relations (A-C>=-A); in
effect, two of Schumann's
Lieder were transcribed
into an archetypal song
without words. In other
instances, Liszt treated
tonality and tonal
organization as important
structural ingredients,
particularly in the
transcriptions of
Schubert's Lieder cycles,
i.e. Schwanengesang,
Winterreise a... $32.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 1 to 2 weeks | | |
| Johann Sebastian Bach: Concerto For Oboe D'Amore In A Major, BWV 1055 Oboe d'amore, violin I, violin II, viola and continuo [Conducteur] Barenreiter
Composed by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750), edited by Wilfried Fischer. BWV 1...(+)
Composed by Johann
Sebastian Bach
(1685-1750), edited by
Wilfried Fischer. BWV
1055. Full score (parts
not included) for oboe
d'amore, violin I, violin
II, viola and continuo
(cello, bass,
harpsichord). Urtext of
the New Bach Edition. A
Major. 26 pages.
Published by
Baerenreiter-Ausgaben
(German import). ISBN
M006465637.
$39.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 1 to 2 weeks | | |
| Concertino geminis Editorial de Musica Boileau
Violin y 15 instrumentos de cuerdo (violin and 15 string instruments) SKU: BO...(+)
Violin y 15 instrumentos
de cuerdo (violin and 15
string instruments)
SKU: BO.B.3430
Composed by Xavier
Benguerel. Instrumental
Sets. Duration 20:00.
Published by Editorial de
Musica Boileau
(BO.B.3430).
The Geminis
Concertino was written in
2005 and dedicated to
Gerard Claret and the
National Chamber
Orchestra of Andorra
(ONCA). The work, as
its name implies, is a
small-scale concerto for
violin and 15 string
instruments. Its score is
basically a chamber piece
in which the solo part
never takes an overly
virtuoso role. Conceived
as a single movement,
played without
interruption, its
internal construction
consists of three classic
sections: A, bars 1-72,
B, bars 73-161, and C,
from bar 162 to the end
of the piece. Part B
begins with the two
opening measures of Bela
Bartok's Violin Concerto
simply as a reminder of a
composer and a work that
has impressed me since I
was very young.I should
confess that the entire
Geminis Concertino has a
certain Bartokian air
that I attribute to the
love I have always
professed for this
composer and that lately
seems to affect me much
as it did in my
youth. --The author.
Barcelona, march
2006 Comentarios
del Espanol: Concertino
Geminis es una obra
escrita el ano 2005, que
dedique a Gerard Claret y
a la Orquestra de Cambra
de Andorra. La
obra, como su nombre
indica, es un pequeno
concierto para violin y
15 instrumentos de
cuerda, sin que la parte
solista tome nunca un
papel excesivamente
virtuosistico, ya que la
partitura tiene un
caracter eminentemente
cameristico. Concebida en
un solo tiempo y, por lo
tanto, interpretada sin
interrupcion, su
construccion interna la
constituyen los tres
movimientos clasicos: A,
del compas 1 al 72; B,
del compas 73 al 161; y
C, del compas 162 al
final. La parte B
comienza con los dos
primeros compases del
Concierto para violin de
Bela Bartok, simplemente
como recuerdo de un
compositor y de una obra
que, ya desde muy joven,
me
impresionaron. Debo
confesar que entiendo que
todo el Concertino
Geminis adquiere un
cierto aire bartokiano,
que atribuyo al amor que
siempre he profesado por
ese autor y que
ultimamente vuelve a
estar presente, igual
como lo estuvo en mi
juventud. --El autor.
Barcelona, marzo de
2006 $31.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 4 to 6 weeks | | |
| Quintet in F Major, K. 497 Carl Fischer
Chamber Music Cello, Flute, Viola 1, Viola 2, Violin SKU: CF.MXE219 Compo...(+)
Chamber Music Cello,
Flute, Viola 1, Viola 2,
Violin SKU:
CF.MXE219 Composed by
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
Arranged by Robert
Stallman. Sws.
56+16+16+16+16+12 pages.
Carl Fischer Music
#MXE219. Published by
Carl Fischer Music
(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—Mozartâ
™s friend Hoffmeister
had regrettably attempted
such
“improvementsâ€
—I always tried
to envision what Mozart
himself would have
desired. Many of the
sonatas can be heard as
if they were
Mozart’s
“blueprintsâ€
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.â€
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.â€
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
chorusâ€
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
“duettingâ€
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
6/8Â 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 clockâ€
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. $42.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Canti D'amor Chorale SATB SATB [Vocal Score] Helicon
By Bernard Rands. (SATB). Schott. Size 7x10.5 inches. 43 pages. Published by He...(+)
By Bernard Rands.
(SATB). Schott. Size
7x10.5 inches. 43 pages.
Published by Helicon.
$5.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Concerto d'Amore Orchestre d'harmonie [Conducteur] - Facile De Haske Publications
Concert Band/Harmonie - Grade 3 SKU: BT.DHP-0950624-140 Composed by Jacob...(+)
Concert Band/Harmonie -
Grade 3 SKU:
BT.DHP-0950624-140
Composed by Jacob De
Haan. Inspiration Series.
Concert Piece. Score
Only. Composed 2006. 36
pages. De Haske
Publications #DHP
0950624-140. Published by
De Haske Publications
(BT.DHP-0950624-140).
9x12 inches.
English-German-French-Dut
ch. In Concerto
dââ¬â¢Amore, a
maestoso opening is
followed by a quick and
energetic movement that
leads to a magnificent
adagio. A motif from this
adagio can be heard in a
swinging movement, after
which the piece comes to
a close with the return
of the adagio. This
arrangement for concert
band certainly brings
this beautiful music to
life.
In
Concerto
dââ¬â¢Amore worden drie
verschillende stijlen
gecombineerd: barok, pop
en jazz. De maestoso
introductie van de
compositie klinkt als een
barokouverture. Dan volgt
een energiek gedeelte in
popstijl, dat uitmondt in
eenadagio. Een motief
daaruit is daarna te
horen in een swingende
passage, waarna het werk
besluit met de terugkeer
van het adagio in een
nieuw
jasje.
Concerto
dââ¬â¢Amore vereinigt drei
unterschiedliche Stile:
Barock, Pop und Jazz. Die
Maestoso bezeichnete
Einleitung der
Komposition klingt wie
eine barocke
Ouvertüre. Es
folgt ein energiereicher
Abschnitt im Pop-Stil,
der wiederum zu einem
Adagio führt. Ein
Motiv aus diesem Adagio
ist in der darauf
folgenden Swing-Passage
zu hören. Dann
kehrt Adagio in neuem
Gewand zurück, um
das Werk zu beenden.
Concerto
dââ¬â¢Amore est composé de
trois périodes
thématiques aux
caractéristiques
de la musique baroque,
pop et jazz.
Lââ¬â¢introduc
tion majestueuse, aux
allures
dââ¬â¢ouvertur
e baroque, chemine vers
un passage vif et
énergique
écrit dans le
style de la musique pop.
Lââ¬â¢adagio
qui lui succède
progresse vers un passage
aux inflexions de swing.
Concerto
dââ¬â¢Amore se conclut par la
reprise du motif de
lââ¬â¢adagio
dont la forme
altérée
offre une conclusion
brillante cette Åuvre
richement
colorée.
Concerto
dââ¬â¢Amore si compone di tre
periodi tematici con
caratteristiche della
musica barocca, pop e
jazz. La maestosa
introduzione, dagli
accenti barocchi,
accompagna ad un
passaggio vivo ed
energico scritto nello
stile della musica pop.
Segue
lââ¬â¢adagio
che sviluppa un passaggio
dalle inflessioni swing.
Concerto
dââ¬â¢Amore si conclude con la
ripresa del motivo
dellââ¬â¢adagi
o la cui forma alterata
offre una conclusione
brillante. $29.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Concerto d'Amore Orchestre d'harmonie [Conducteur et Parties séparées] - Facile De Haske Publications
Concert Band/Harmonie - Grade 3 SKU: BT.DHP-0950624-010 Composed by Jacob...(+)
Concert Band/Harmonie -
Grade 3 SKU:
BT.DHP-0950624-010
Composed by Jacob De
Haan. Inspiration Series.
Concert Piece. Set (Score
& Parts). Composed 1995.
De Haske Publications
#DHP 0950624-010.
Published by De Haske
Publications
(BT.DHP-0950624-010).
9x12 inches. In
Concerto d’Amore,
a maestoso opening is
followed by a quick and
energetic movement that
leads to a magnificent
adagio. A motif from this
adagio can be heard in a
swinging movement, after
which the piece comes to
a close with the return
of the adagio. This
arrangement for concert
band certainly brings
this beautiful music to
life.
In
Concerto
d’Amore worden
drie verschillende
stijlen gecombineerd:
barok, pop en jazz. De
maestoso introductie van
de compositie klinkt als
een barokouverture. Dan
volgt een energiek
gedeelte in popstijl, dat
uitmondt in een adagio.
Eenmotief daaruit is
daarna te horen in een
swingende passage, waarna
het werk besluit met de
terugkeer van het adagio
in een nieuw
jasje.
Concerto
d’Amore
vereinigt drei
unterschiedliche Stile:
Barock, Pop und Jazz. Die
Maestoso bezeichnete
Einleitung der
Komposition klingt wie
eine barocke
Ouvertüre. Es folgt
ein energiereicher
Abschnitt im Pop-Stil,
der wiederum zu einem
Adagio führt. Ein
Motiv aus diesem Adagio
ist in der darauf
folgenden Swing-Passage
zu hören. Dann kehrt
Adagio in neuem Gewand
zurück, um das Werk zu
beenden.
Concerto
d’Amore est
composé de trois
périodes
thématiques aux
caractéristiques de la
musique baroque, pop et
jazz.
L’introduction
majestueuse, aux allures
d’ouverture
baroque, chemine vers un
passage vif et
énergique écrit
dans le style de la
musique pop.
L’adagio qui lui
succède progresse vers
un passage aux inflexions
de swing. Concerto
d’Amore se
conclut par la reprise du
motif de l’adagio
dont la forme
altérée offre une
conclusion brillante
cette œuvre
richement
colorée.
Con
certo d’Amore
si compone di tre periodi
tematici con
caratteristiche della
musica barocca, pop e
jazz. La maestosa
introduzione, dagli
accenti barocchi,
accompagna ad un
passaggio vivo ed
energico scritto nello
stile della musica pop.
Segue l’adagio che
sviluppa un passaggio
dalle inflessioni swing.
Concerto
d’Amore si
conclude con la ripresa
del motivo
dell’adagio la cui
forma alterata offre una
conclusione
brillante. $184.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Concerto d'Amore Orchestre d'harmonie [Conducteur] - Facile De Haske Publications
Concert Band/Harmonie/Fanfare Band - Grade 3 SKU: BT.DHP-0950624-215 Comp...(+)
Concert
Band/Harmonie/Fanfare
Band - Grade 3 SKU:
BT.DHP-0950624-215
Composed by Jacob De
Haan. Inspiration Series.
Original Light Music.
Score Only. Composed
1995. 28 pages. De Haske
Publications #DHP
0950624-215. Published by
De Haske Publications
(BT.DHP-0950624-215).
9x12 inches. In
Concerto d’Amore,
a maestoso opening is
followed by a quick and
energetic movement that
leads to a magnificent
adagio. A motif from this
adagio can be heard in a
swinging movement, after
which the piece comes to
a close with the return
of the adagio. This
arrangement for concert
band certainly brings
this beautiful music to
life.
In
Concerto
d’Amore worden
drie verschillende
stijlen gecombineerd:
barok, pop en jazz. De
maestoso introductie van
de compositie klinkt als
een barokouverture. Dan
volgt een energiek
gedeelte in popstijl, dat
uitmondt in eenadagio.
Een motief daaruit is
daarna te horen in een
swingende passage, waarna
het werk besluit met de
terugkeer van het adagio
in een nieuw
jasje.
Concerto
d’Amore
vereinigt drei
unterschiedliche Stile:
Barock, Pop und Jazz. Die
Maestoso bezeichnete
Einleitung der
Komposition klingt wie
eine barocke
Ouvertüre. Es folgt
ein energiereicher
Abschnitt im Pop-Stil,
der wiederum zu einem
Adagio führt. Ein
Motiv aus diesem Adagio
ist in der darauf
folgenden Swing-Passage
zu hören. Dann kehrt
Adagio in neuem Gewand
zurück, um das Werk zu
beenden.
Concerto
d’Amore est
composé de trois
périodes
thématiques aux
caractéristiques de la
musique baroque, pop et
jazz.
L’introduction
majestueuse, aux allures
d’ouverture
baroque, chemine vers un
passage vif et
énergique écrit
dans le style de la
musique pop.
L’adagio qui lui
succède progresse vers
un passage aux inflexions
de swing. Concerto
d’Amore se
conclut par la reprise du
motif de l’adagio
dont la forme
altérée offre une
conclusion brillante
cette œuvre
richement
colorée.
Con
certo d’Amore
si compone di tre periodi
tematici con
caratteristiche della
musica barocca, pop e
jazz. La maestosa
introduzione, dagli
accenti barocchi,
accompagna ad un
passaggio vivo ed
energico scritto nello
stile della musica pop.
Segue l’adagio che
sviluppa un passaggio
dalle inflessioni swing.
Concerto d’Amore
si conclude con la
ripresa del motivo
dell’adagio la cui
forma alterata offre una
conclusione
brillante. $23.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
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