Asere

Direct from Havana!
Exclusive London club date for one of Cuba’s hottest Son bands, previewing their brand new album ‘Junio Groove’

Emerging at the same time as the Buena Vista Social Club over 10 years ago Asere have been an integral part of the re-emergence of Cuba in the global music scene. Their new album and red-hot live shows are proof that the future of Cuban music is in safe hands. With inventive song writing and a soulful groove these musicians are building a fresh sound for a new generation.

‘A classic son sextet, featuring trumpet, guitar, percussion and bass: superlative musicians who know exactly how to modernise without losing soul’ Songlines

+ Movimientos DJs with the sounds of the Latino underground from vintage Cuban nuggets to the freshest dance floor flavours

+ Short documentary films on Cuba from 8pm including:
Asere’s own ‘Zoom In Havana’, a film about the band, their lives, music and the new album Junio Groove.

And the brand new film ‘Historias del Fin del Mundo’ – Stories of the end of the World. (27 min Dir, Yahima Pardo La Red)
That explores the reaction of three groups of people in Cuba, presented with the prospect that the world will end in a few hours. The film observes the human condition, both negative and positive, and sends a message that through co-operation we can save our world. With music by Roberto Fonseca.

@ Passing Clouds

Friday 4th December

8pm – 3am

£5 b4 10 / £8 after

Passing Clouds
Richmond Road
E8 4AA
(Corner of Kingsland Road)

With Background and Analysis of Joseph Haydn’s L’Infedeltà delusa

By Sara Hartley Llewellyn (nee. Frister)

Spring 2001

When music critics of today look back at Classical era opera, they see Mozart, not his equally talented, overshadowed counterpart, Joseph Haydn.  This inequality is very unfortunate, but when we take a closer look, we see that it is quite understandable.  In order to appreciate and perform Haydn’s opera to its greatest potential we must look beyond our preconceived ideas about Classical opera and try to discover Joseph Haydn’s music in a new light.  To this end, we will explore the attitudes, motivation and limitations of Haydn, his critics and audience, that a close look at his comic opera L’Infedeltà delusa, and analyze how this information has been passed down into our present day conception of how this opera should or should not be performed.

To fully appreciate Haydn’s operas, it is helpful to understand why they came to be and what conditions they were composed under.  During this time when Haydn wrote most of his operas he was the court composer for Prince Nikolaus Esterházy.  In this role Haydn was expected to compose very specific types of works for specific events.  He further had to do so for a given group of musicians, and , of course, to suit the tastes of his employers.  For these reasons it is important to take into consideration Haydn’s many physically imposed limitations and pressures while creating such productions.  If, as directors and performers, we can forgive these restrictions to understand his composition in context, we begin to comprehend the strengths that Haydn as so masterfully sewn into his work.  Then perhaps we can take the burden off of the listeners and set about a new appreciation for this work.

Haydn spent an enormous portion of his career at the palace of Esterházy employed as the Kapellmeister.  For more than a quarter of a decade, from 1763 to 1790 he worked diligently as composer, conductor, instructor and supervisor for all of the musical events in this very esteemed musical atmosphere.  A great deal of his time at Esterházy was spent composing and directing operas.  Haydn composed a total of fourteen stage works, nine in Italian and five in German between 1766 and 1780.  Between 1780 and 1789 alone at least 1034 performances of 73 operas were given under Haydn’s direction.

At the 1975 International Haydn Conference, Andrew Porter was quite accurate in stating that “as we go through the operas, we begin to discover the vocal personalities and the temperaments of the singers in Haydn’s company, especially the resourceful and versatile Maddalena Friberth, Karl Friberth, and Leopold Dichtler”. (Haydn Studies, 256)  Also notable are the character and limitations of Haydn’s orchestra, such as is demonstrated in L’Infedeltà delusa.  “The orchestra is of modest size, including oboes, horns and strings, augmented by bassoons (specified only in the opening quintet).  Timpani are used only in the three C major pillars of the structure (where the are combined with horns): the overture, Filippo’s area early in Act 2 and finale.” (Branscombe, 801)  These limitations need not be viewed as a handicap, however, to Haydn’s style, but rather simply the colors that lay on his palate.

In many respects Haydn was spoiled to have at his disposal a twenty-five member orchestra of excellent playing ability, facility to numerous musical instruments, elegant performing spaces, a gifted troupe of resident opera singers, an appreciative audience, and a supportive and appreciative employer.  Indeed, in his time, Haydn had just about everything a composer and musician could ask for.  His talents and productive capabilities were realized and he was grated security and immediate gratification that is rare for a composer in any era.

This luxury, however, was gained at the cost of a certain posterity.  Many present day observers wonder at the seeming loss of interest in much of Haydn’s work that allowed it to slip into near obscurity immediately after his lifetime.  The common assumption that this music worked its way out of the familiar repertoire of orchestras and opera companies because of lack of quality is unfortunate.  Most of the music composed for the Esterházy court was simply never released for performance outside of Esterházy.  Three of the five stage works that Haydn wrote in German were completely lost, and many sections of other works were lost as well.  These facts are important and rarely taken into account.

For almost two hundred years Haydn’s reputation lay primarily in the posterity of only his music composed for performance outside of Esterházy.  Mostly this responsibility lay with the works composed in the last decade of his life.  Even this fraction of his output, including The Creation, The Seasons, The London Symphonies, and a number of smaller works, was enough to write his name into musical history.

It is no wonder that his operas are not popular.  He wrote only one for performance outside of Esterházy, and the rest were locked away in the vaults of the castle shortly after their premieres.  The contract that Haydn entered into upon accepting his initial post at Esterházy in 1766 was very explicit about the compositional restrictions imposed upon him.  This was stated in the fourth clause of this contract, “The said Vice-Capellmeister shall be under obligation to compose such music as his Serene Highness may command, and neither to communicate such compositions to any other person, nor to allow them to be copied, but he shall retain them for the absolute use of his Highness, and not compose for any other person without the knowledge and permission of his Highness.” (Weiss and Taruskin, 299)

Many of Haydn’s stage works were destroyed in fire, and the remaining were not rediscovered until long after they would have been able to influence their predecessors.  This can be partially attributed to the fact that neither of Prince Nikolaus Esterházy’s most immediate descendants, his son Anton Esterházy and Nicholas II shared his love for music.  Upon his father’s death, Anton was quick to disband Haydn’s orchestra and send Haydn off with a pension.  The music, therefore, sat locked away to remain simply as another of the great possessions of the Esterházy estate from 1790 until their rediscovery by musicologists in 1960. (Rossi, 54)

Of course, musicologists and musicians argue there are other reasons why these operas are not performed.  The leading argument is that Haydn’s operas lack drama, as was most simply stated by Andrew Porter at the International Haydn Conference, “Haydn’s operas show little sense of theatrical timing or theatrical situation.” (Porter, 256)  While everyone involved agrees that the music is beautiful, not everyone agrees that it is properly set for stage production.

The easiest target for blame for this seeming lack of drama are the librettos Haydn set.  Georg Feder claimed that “Most of the librettos Haydn set were originally written for Italian composers like Galuppi, Piccinni, Anfossi, or Cimarosa.  Somebody in the Esterházy opera house took a copy of such a libretto originally printed, say, in Venice and made cuts or partial substitutions of newly written or borrowed text.  This revised libretto Haydn set to music, not without carefully considering the individual abilities of the singers engaged at the Esterházy opera house.” (Haydn Studies, 253)  Haydn is criticized for settling too quickly for the texts put before him.  “…of the sovereign mastery of drama, pace and psychological insight that we too easily take for granted in the very greatest of stage composers, there is scarcely a sign.  The faults – as we see it – lie in Haydn’s apparently uncritical acceptance of the librettos put before him…” (Branscombe, 676)  Critics say that he should have either demanded that those who brought libretti to him make further alterations in order to provide a better foundation for the music to serve the drama, or made such corrections himself.  As it was, Haydn made little or no corrections to these libretti, and left no evidence that he wanted to do so.

The argument of poor libretti is a hard one to dispute, because it is difficult to say what Haydn would have done given different tools.  Some argue that even with a more dramatic foundation, Haydn was not apt to take advantage of it.  This view is argued by Peter Branscombe about Haydn’s comic opera, L’Infedeltà delusa, with a libretto by Marco Coltellini, who also worked in the libretto for Mozart’s La finta semplice.  “Despite three pairings of lovers there is no love duet – indeed, apart from the rather brief two-tempo finales the score consists solely of recitatives and arias, and some of them anything but dramatic.  To take one instance, when Nanni is anxious to find out his sister’s further plans, she says she has no time to tell him now – and proceeds to sing a lovely six-minute-long aria (‘Ho teso la rete’) without even then putting him properly in the picture.” (Branscombe, 672)

Despite Branscombe’s harsh view of Haydn’s dramatic choices, the opera has many merits.  As is a very familiar story with most of Haydn’s operas, L’Infedeltà delusa enjoyed a very specific and well-tailored role in Esterházy. L’Infedeltà delusa (‘Deceit Outwitted’) is a Burletta per musica (type of opera buffa) in two acts.  It is the only purely comic opera of this type that Haydn composed, and was first performed for a special occasion, the name-day of the Dowager Princess Esterházy (July 26^th, 1773).  The opera enjoyed two subsequent revivals: the first on September 1^st of the same year during a visit of Empress Maria Theresa, which prompted the often repeated quote, “if I wish to hear a good opera, I go to Eszterhaza”, and in July of 1774 for “two distinguished Italians”.  No more performances of L’Infedeltà delusa were made during Haydn’s time despite its proud success at these performances.

Many sources claim that L’Infedeltà delusa marks a turning point in Haydn’s career as an opera composer.  Georg Feder asserted, “The most developed and most completely preserved of Haydn’s operas are those beginning with L’Infedeltà delusa of 1773…” (Haydn Studies, 255)  Barry S. Brook agreed that “…it seems that Haydn’s activity as an opera composer achieved its peak between 1773 and 1783.” (Haydn Studies, 253)  “This work marks an important step forward in Haydn’s development as an opera composer.  Compared with its predecessor, Le pescatrici (1769), L’Infedeltà delusa reveals a marked degree of concentration: the five characters are all from the peasant class, the chorus is excluded and the work is limited to two acts of equal length.” (Branscombe, 801) “Perhaps Haydn’s greatest progress as a theater composer was made in the short period between Le pescatrici and L’Infedeltà delusa. L’Infedeltà delusa … conforms much more closely to modern ideals of eighteenth-century opera than does the earlier, and fully justifies the empress’s memorable remark…” (Downs, 251)

In fact, Haydn’s operas do seem to demonstrate a higher degree of organization and dramatic intent beginning in 1773.  “in this opera, Haydn shows more insight into characterization by musical means and a greater sense of musical theater.  There is a noticeable enriching of the melodic materials and the orchestral textures as well, all of which broaden and deepen Haydn’s power to express the drama through the music.  He begins to use vocal color as effectively as he has hitherto used the orchestra.” (Downs, 251)  The opening quartet that follows the overture “anticipates parts of Muzart’s Così” with a sensuousness that celebrates the beauty of the cool evening.  The opening quartet in many ways takes the place of what is commonly sung by a chorus.  Since Haydn had no chorus available to him at Esterházy, he may simply have been substituting with the most adequate tools at his disposal, but the result is a refreshing number that is as effective as anything conventional at setting up “the calm before the storm”.

Haydn’s operas offer a combination of unique features based on familiar convention.  He uses many eighteenth-century stereotypes, such as the drinking song and the serenade, but he weaves them together in a unique way. (Landon and Jones, 126)  One example of this use of convention in L’Infedeltà delusa is Nencio’s serenade to Sandrina.  It is very typical, in 6/8 time with pizzicato strings imitating a guitar.  This serenade is not unusual in many respects, but Haydn does add some charming effects including a lifting progression on the word ‘cor’ (heart).

Haydn was well aware of the voices for which he had to write while at Esterházy.  When writing L’Infedeltà delusa he created his characters with the personalities and strenths of his talented cast in mind.  Leopold Dichtler, for example, the tenor who created the role of Nencio, seemed to have an extremely wide range, although Haydn never wrote any notable coloratura for him, suggesting that it was not Dichtler’s strength.

Maddalena Friberth, Barbara Dichtler, Carl Friberth, Leopold Dichtler, and Christian Specht were Haydn’s core singers in many of his opera productions at the castle, and were the complete cast of L’Infedeltà delusa in 1773.  With no chorus or supporting cast he built the entire opera upon only these voices, his modestly sized orchestra, and the libretto given to him.

Barbara (Fuchs) Dichtler was one of the singers in his company who’s voice Haydn knew as well as he did the singer.  She began singing at Esterházy as an apprentice in 1758.  After working her way up in the company for a number of years she became one of Haydn’s lead sopranos and married the tenor Leopold Dichtler, with Haydn as the “best man” in the ceremony.  Three years before she actually died on the Esterházy stage during a performance of Sacchini’s L’isola d’amoure in 1776, she created the role of Sandrina in L’Infedeltà delusa.

Barbara Dichtler must have been a soprano with a light, flexible voice and the ability to maneuver easily through coloratura. (Landon, Haydn: Chronicle and Works, 48) H.C. Robbins Landon elaborated, “see the beautiful writing for ‘Sandrina’, especially the E flat Aria in Act II, ‘È la pompa un grand imbroglio’, from L’Infedeltà delusa, which has a nobility and depth of feeling that tells us something of the person form whom it was so lovingly composed”.

Haydn gave Sandrina three compelling arias in the opera that demonstrate a notable move beyond convention.  Her character is billed as ‘an ordinary girl’, and by operatic standards she is not diva material.  Although she is to a degree a victim, Sandrina is at no point suicidal, at the brink of a nervous breakdown, or in danger of being murdered at the hands of a lover, admirer, or family member.  She is simply a well rounded, practical character with a strong will and admirable goals.   She is resolute in her actions and leaves the plotting to those around her.  Indeed, in an operatic sense Sandrina is anything but ordinary, and in a sense quite revolutionary in comparison to leading soprano characters of her time.

Haydn, in turn, treats this character in a more or less unique way.  Sandrina is the first and last character in the opera to sing a solo, she is the focal point around which all of the action revolves, and yet she does not participate in forwarding the plot either by motive or accident.  Most of the plotting is done by Filippo, her father, who is trying to wed her to the wealthiest suitor, and Vespina, a fellow soprano and friend, who’s complicated and devious plotting almost sing-handedly secures victory for Sandrina, herself, and love.  In fact, Sandrina is not even aware of the plotting that is done by Vespina on her behalf.

The music that Haydn gives Sandrina reflects her strong, resolute, and somewhat naïve personality.  Her text (Ex.1) is regular and uncomplicated, and her music is in a mini-sonata form framed within the da capo aria.  Her third aria, the penultimate number in the opera, “È la pompa un grand’ imbroglio”, demonstrates her determination and unfaltering personality.  Already in her wedding dress, Filippo attempts to finish preparing Sandrina for her marriage to a very wealthy (though unbeknownst to them, fictional) nobleman.  This aria is her last protest as she pleads for her father to have mercy and allow her to marry Nanni, the man she truly loves.

Ex. 1

È la pompa un grand’ imbroglio          Luxury is a great burden

Per un’alma, che disprezza                For my soul who scorns

Fasto, onor, e la ricchezza                  Pomp, glory, and riches.

Io non cerco, ed io non voglio             I don’t search for, and I don’t want

Che la pace del mio cor.                     But for peace in my heart.

The text is stated a total of three times, first in its purest form in the exposition, then the development, and finally in the resolution.  This form mimics her structured and grounded personality and provides a foundation for her lyric, delicately ornamented melody.  Sandrina’s character does not possess any of the comic elements that we see in the opera’s other soprano, Vespina.  She is refined and elegant, despite her peasant status, and most of all simple, wishing for nothing more than to live an honest, unpretentious life.  It is this sense of lack of pretentiousness that Haydn has mastered in this character’s music.

Upon its recovery from the Esterházy vaults, “L’Infedeltà delusa has enjoyed considerable esteem, even popular success, since World War II.  Before the war it had been arrange as a Singspiel, Die Liebe macht erfindrisch, with a German text by Hermann Goja, and the music edited by Gottfried Kassowitz (Vienna, c1930).” (Branscombe, 800)  Since then it has been staged at the Holland Festival and several times in Germany, England, France, Sweden and the USA.  “It has also been easily the most favoured Haydn opera in both number and quality of recordings.” (Ibid)

It seems that an interesting side effect of reproduction and circulation of a work such as this, which has not made its way into the popular main stream of classical music, is that the existing editions and copies are more accurate on average than those of more popular works.  This may be the case because only those musicologists who are truly interested in the music, and are not exploiting it for its commercial value, take much more care to represent it as completely and accurately as possible.  H.C. Robbins Landon, Jenö Vécsey, and Denes Bartha have done a considerable amount to promote the renewed awareness of Haydn’s opera through research and publication of the Haydn editions of 1960 and 1964.  The only other copies of the aria “È la pompa un grand’ imbroglio”, for example, that were easily accessible when sourcing this research were a score of L’Infedeltà delusa copied by H.C. Robbins Landon himself and a collection of five Haydn arias compiled by Jenö Vécsey.

H.C. Robbins Landon, the musicologist whom without question has had the most direct experience interpreting and copying Haydn’s autographs stated that “The most immediate characteristic of Haydn’s autographs is the obvious haste with which they were written down… Haydn’s autographs are neat, firm, business-like and, above all other things, conceived and intended as practical scores for practical musicians.” (Landon, 75)  Although at first this statement seems a contradiction, it may simply attest to a very efficient writing style.

One of the greatest challenges that Landon faced when copying Haydn’s scores for modern musicians was in interpreting the articulation and subtleties that Haydn’s musicians would have performed as second nature.  “It is not possible for us to take Haydn’s autograph and engrave the score from it, nor can we play a Haydn autograph today without supplementary explanations; for not only were certain instruments commonly used but not noted in the score, but the interpretation of Haydn’s phrasing and dynamic marks requires elucidation if a modern orchestra is to interpret his music with any degree of authenticity.” (Landon, 74)

Haydn did leave hints in writing from the time he was in Esterházy regarding some of his underwritten expectations.  “In his ‘Applausus’ letter of 1768, Haydn tells us that a bassoon should play with the bass; he thought that in a soprano aria, comparable to a slow movement of a symphony, the bassoon ‘could be left out’ but he preferred it to remain.” (Landon, 78)  Also, “Haydn’s use of accidentals also deserves our attention.  It was a typical baroque trait, and still part of Haydn’s tradition, that an accidental held good over the bar line even if this negated the basic series of accidentals prescribed by the key signature.”

Haydn most likely never imagined performances of his music two centuries later.  Therefore, the question of how he would want us to perform it is irrelevant.  When performing his music we must simply consider what we know of Haydn’s musical intentions, the style and limitations of the musicians at his disposal, the attention of our audience, and the picture of this work that we want to ultimately bring back to life.  With all of this in mind, regardless of whether we choose to give an “authentic” performance of Haydn’s work or a performance that is quite divergent from the original, it can only improve our performance to know as much about the original as possible.

Attempts at modern performances of these operas has faced strong positive and negative criticism.  In his recent article Why Haydn and Opera Mix Uneasily, Bernard Holland wrote “It is probably no accident that while Mozart’s operas have not lost their grip on the public, Haydn’s never had one to begin with.  …Yet for all their power and humanity, Beethoven and Haydn are uneasy players on the stage. …One reason may be this: that while Beethoven and Haydn then do conceive music and then impose it on theatre, Mozart is in thrall to his characters.”  Here we are back to the unfortunate comparison of Haydn to Mozart combined with the assertion that drama is secondary to music.  Holland’s point is a subjective one, however, because effective music could otherwise be defined as drama realized through sound, and Haydn is often acclaimed for his skill in achieving this.

This dispute was engaged most thoroughly at the International Haydn Conference in 1975, the best argument on Haydn’s behalf coming from Eva Badura-Skoda on the panel in the discussion entitled A Survey of Haydn’s Operas.  “It is clear that Haydn had talent as an opera composer.  ‘Odio, furor, dispetto’ from Armida is a great dramatic aria. …But it is still necessary to fight the 170-year-old prejudice that this or any other great aria is only an isolated example, that Haydn had no real dramatic gifts, and that he was far greater an instrumental composer.  We simply have not heard enough performances of Haydn’s operas – certainly no enough good ones, without cuts, without distortions, sung by singers who understand the traditions, the tempos, the embellishments – to judge his operas.” (Haydn Studies, 256)  Even Andrew Porter who was quite verbal about his views that operas are licking in sufficient drama found merit in them when presented with the right angle. “…but I do not mean that Haydn’s dramatic music lacks character.  Certainly his arias have great musical character; and in the theatrical sense there is nearly always a very vivid sense of characterization.  Each of the five personages in L’Infedeltà delusa, for example, is very sharply drawn.” (Haydn Studies, 256

Despite his harsh criticism of Haydn’s operas, Peter Branscombe still found positive things to say in his defense, “…we perforce find ourselves making comparisons with Gluck, and above all, of course, with Mozart.  Such comparisons, if inevitable, are less than fair.  For one thing, Haydn’s mature style was established, and seven-eighths of his stage scores had been written, before Mozart wrote Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail…” (Branscombe, 675)  He went even further in summary to state that “Haydn’s operas leave one in no doubt, of course, that they are the product of a composer of the very highest quality.  They are scored with ingenuity, and at times with richness; the themes are often strikingly melodious.” (Branscombe, 675)  Helmut Wirth went as far as to view Haydn as somewhat of a predecessor to Mozart.  “Although the young Mozart had at this time not entered the circle around Haydn, it may be said that Haydn came very close to his later friend in this work.” (Wirth II, 25)

To further matters in the slow revival of his operas, Haydn even fell prey to his own words.  Barry S. Brook noted, “In the acceptance of Haydn’s operas there is a basic prejudice to overcome, a prejudice engendered in part by Haydn himself when he – even if only once – compared his own operas unfavorably to Mozart’s, in the well-known letter to Roth in Prague.  We tend to forget his proud statements about his own operas on other occasions.” (Haydn Studies, 253)  “Haydn himself was well aware of the restricted appeal outside Eszterhaza of the operas written for that establishment.  He wrote to the head of the commissariat in Prague, Franz Roth, in December 1787:

You request an opera buffa of me; with the greatest pleasure, if you have the desire to possess some vocal composition of mine all for yourself.  But if it is to be performed in the theatre in Prague, I cannot oblige you on this occasion, because all my operas are too closely tied to our personnel (at Eszterhaza in Hungary), and moreover would never produce the effect that I calculated according to the local conditions.” (Branscombe, 675)

It is unfortunate that many critics view this statement as a self-admittance by the composer of a lower quality opera.  It is, in my view, quite the opposite.  Haydn was a highly intuitive composer, and could have had countless reasons for not wanting his operas performed in Prague.  For whatever reason he didn’t feel the company was right to perform them.  I don’t think we could think les of Mozart for declining to submit an opera for performance by the Russian opera company in St. Petersburg.  “[Haydn] went on to say that his response would have been quite different had he been commissioned to write a new opera for Prague – except that he would be in direct competition with ‘the great Mozart’:

For if I were able to impress upon the soul of every music-lover, and even more, of the potentates, the incomparable works of Mozart – so profound and o full of musical intelligence – with so great a feeling and understanding as I bring to them, then the nations would vie with one another to possess such a jewel within their walls. …Forgive me for straying from the path; I love the man too much.

“This letter, along with a lighthearted passage in one written some two years later, bears moving testimony to an evaluation of Mozart’s works that most present day opera lovers would consider justifies the continuing adulation of the stage works of the one and the comparative neglect of those of the other.” (Branscombe, 675)  This view is unfortunate, because to assume that Haydn was honestly conceding his worth as a composer in this statement is absurd.  One need only superficially observe Haydn’s music to realize that these are simply the statements of a humble and unpretentious man, and a very intuitive one at that writing in the florid style customary at that time.  At the time Haydn did not need to seek his fame and fortune as an opera composer.  He had a unique and secure position under the Prince.

If after having exhausted the argument about whether or not we should perform Haydn’s operas, we are now presented with the many issues about how to present them, should we concede to.  Do we offer them in their most complete form in the original language, risking alienation of the audience, or do we shorten and translate these works into the local dialect.  This second approach is much less intimidating to an already apprehensive audience, but will almost certainly rob the performance of some of its musical and linguistic qualities.  These are issues that must tackled when staging any foreign opera, but the answers vary depending largely on the style of the composer.

So, how appropriate is it to rework Haydn’s operas for a modern English performance?  If the practices of the composer in his own theatre set an example for us, we should have no problem taking such liberties.  “Apart from some 20 arias that Haydn wrote for insertion into operas by other composers that he was preparing for production in Prince Nikolaus’s theatre, he also revised a similar number of arias and ensemble in these works.” (Branscombe, 674)  László Somfai pointed out that “From Haydn’s own experience with the singers and the audience, he would cut this aria or that section after one or more performances.  And additions or ‘insertion arias’ came into the body of the opera only when it was the premiere or a revival some years later.  That is, the operas became shorter and shorter during successive performances.  So my proposition would be; at first, make a full or long performance, and then listen to the audience and, step by step, make more cuts.  That was Haydn’s practice.” (Haydn Studies, 263)  It is easy to suppose, from this argument, that one could justify making substantial cuts to L’Infedeltà delusa because Haydn himself would have done the same if the production had been staged more than three times in his lifetime.

After having had the opportunity to conduct performances of L’Infedeltà delusa and L’incontro improvviso (another of Haydn’s operas), Andrew Porter observed that “Now, where most modern productions of Haydn operas seem to go wrong is that instead of rejoicing in this musical richness, they regret it.  The modern director tries to cut them down to the much lower level of the contemporary operas around Haydn’s.” (Haydn Studies, 259)  It would make sense then, to regard Haydn’s operas as a musician’s production rather than a storyteller’s.  Porter’s stance is to take a renewed investment into the music, “…because people feel guilty about cutting what they call the ‘music’, they also cut the recitative – even more severely, to the bare bones of what will explain the plot… This further upsets the balance; the theatrical balance, because it brings the elaborate numbers too close together, so that the texture does not have the variety of the original.  I do not believe that Haydn’s operas will appear in their full splendor until they are integrally presented, and until audiences accept them for what they are and not what some modern director thinks they ought to be.”

Karl Geiringer supported this, stating that “Haydn wrote for a small princely theater.  There was an unhurried atmosphere  The recitatives could unfold the action, and the arias could develop the musical materials.  When we perform Haydn today, we need a small ensemble, a small hall, and plenty of time.” (Haydn Studies, 263)

Haydn’s operas have not yet made it off of the butchering table of interpretation and ‘improvement’.  Perhaps they never will, and we will find that the best performance for our modern audiences is one much adapted from the original.  In order to fully appreciate Haydn’s operas we must take another, closer look, and challenge ourselves with fresh, energetic, insightful performances.  In an ideal world we would not need to alter Haydn’s work at all to achieve this, but at present that is not what is asked for by our audience.  Even works as well known as Mozart’s greatest are often translated and adapted.  The bottom line is, ultimately, what the audience is willing to support.

At the 1975 Haydn Conference Michael Feldman predicted “Ultimately we will reach a point in our knowledge of eighteenth-century opera where Haydn will not have to ‘compete’ with Mozart.  At that time we will have a much clearer appreciation of Haydn’s contribution.  This appreciation will not come solely from people looking at scores in collected editions but also from people hearing performances in English, in French, in German, and Italian, and loving the music.  I think we are going to see this in the next ten years.” (Haydn Studies, 266)  Proceedings Chairman, Barry S Brook hoped that “We may hope that we stand at the threshold of an extensive Haydn opera renaissance.”

Twenty-six years have passed since these optimistic predictions at the 1975 Haydn Conference in Washington DC, and such hopes for Haydn’s operas have not yet been fully realized, despite the great steps we have made.  We will have a long way to go to work Haydn’s operas into the modern opera repertoire, but we are now equipped with much better tools for putting them there.

Haydn evolved his own style of operatic composition.  Like his contemporaries, he did so under the influences of music that came before him.  The similarities that Haydn’s music holds to Mozart’s is due mostly to their similar musical exposure.  The reason that Haydn’s music, though quite unique and evolving in a very different direction from his contemporaries, did not influence the course of operatic development is that these works were never released into the hands of Haydn’s musical descendants.  The greater portion of his surviving operas were locked away in the vaults of Esterházy for almost 200 years after their successful, yet intimate premieres.  Despite this unfortunate, but inevitable neglect we can still find a place for these operas among our now quite diverse performing venues.  We should take Haydn’s advice, these productions would most likely not go over well in our big opera houses, but they would undoubtedly find a welcome home in the repertoire of our smaller regional houses.

Select Bibliography

Branscombe, Peter. “Haydn, Joseph.” Stanley Sadie, ed., The New Grove Dictionary of Opera. London: MacMillan Press Ltd., 1992, Vol. 2, pp. 671-679.

__________. “Infedeltà delusa, L”. Stanley Sadie, ed., The New Grove Dictionary of Opera. London: MacMillan Press Ltd., 1992, Vol. 2, pp. 800-801.

Downs, Philip G. Classical Music: The Era of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1992.

Feder, George. “From the Workshop of the Haydn Edition.” Musical Times. Vol. CXXIII/1669, March 1982, pp. 166-69.

Grout, Donald J. and Claude V. Palisca. A History of Western Music. London: W.W. Norton & Co., 1996.

Haydn, Joseph. L’Infedeltà Delusa. Antal Derati, conductor. Switzerland: Philips 6769 061, 1980.

___________. L’Infedeltà Delusa. Frigyes Sandor, conductor. Hungary: MHV Recording, SLPX 11832-34, 1976.

___________. L’Infedeltà Delusa. Dénes Bartha and Jenö Vécsey, ed. Joseph Haydn Werke. Munchen: G. Henle Verlag, 1964. Vol. XXV, 5.

___________. L’Infedeltà Delusa. H.C. Robbins Landon, ed. Salzbrg: Haydn-Mozart Pres, 1961.

___________. Operatic Arias: For Voice and Piano. Jenö Vécsey, ed. Florida: Masters Music Publications Inc., 1993.

Landon, H.C. Robbins and David Wyn Jones. Haydn: His Life and Music. Bloomington: In Diana University Press. 1988.

___________. Haydn: Chronicle and Works. London: Indiana University Press, 1978. Vol. II.

___________. The Symphonies of Joseph Haydn. London: Universal Edition & Rockliff, 1955.

Larson, Jens Peter, Howard Serwer and James Webster, ed. Haydn Studies: Proceedings of the International Haydn Conference. New York: W.W Norton & Co., 1975.

Larson, Jens Peter. “Haydn: Repertory, Interpretation, Image”. Musical Times. Vol. CXXIII/1669, March 1983, pp. 163-166.

Rossi, Nick. “Joseph Haydn and Opera”. Sherwin and Irene Sloan, ed. The Opera Quarterly. Chapel Hill: University of Carolina Press, Spring 1983, Vol. I, Number I, pp. 54-78.

Weiss, Piero and Richard Taruskin. Music in the Western World: A History in Documents. London: Colier MacMillan Publishers, 1984.

Zaslaw, Neal, ed. The Classical Era: From the 1740s to the end of the 18^th century. London: MacMillan Press, 1989.

Among the clutch of works commissioned by the Southbank Centre to mark the reopening of the Royal Festival Hall two years ago, Heiner Goebbels’s Songs Of Wars I Have Seen stood head and shoulders above the others, for its originality and touching eloquence, with words and music interwoven with subtlety and theatrical charm in the way that is singularly Goebbels. Because it is scored for both modern and period instruments, and requires the female instrumentalists involved to deliver the laconic texts by Gertrude Stein, performances are always likely to be rare events. But the Southbank has brought together again the two ensembles who gave the first performance, the London Sinfonietta and the Orchestra Of The Age Of Enlightenment, for a repeat as part of Ether 09. Songs Of Wars I Have Seen forms half of a double bill with Goebbels’s Sampler Suite, the instrumental element in one of his earlier multimedia works, Surrogate Cities.

• Queen Elizabeth Hall, SE1, Fri

German Lied:

The Foundation of German Romanticism

By Sara Hartley Llewellyn (nee. Frister)

March 2000

Romanticism and the poetry from which it sprang made possible the development of the great Leider of Schubert, Wolf, Mahler and the great song writers of their time.  Contributing factors to the development of this intimate musical genre include the more expressive capabilities f the piano and a particularly suitable social climate.  The result was an art form that could not have developed in any other setting, and influenced the direction in which Austrian and German music progressed fo ran entire century.

“Sehnsucht”, a yearning for God, nature, the infinite, and the beyond is the core German Romanticism.  This movement encompassed themes of escape, oneness with nature, a connection to the “common people”, and the exotic.  Drinking of opium became popular, an ideal of free will and individuality was stressed, and the uncontrolled, odd, insane, and irrational were praised.  In short, promoters of this movement were not afraid to touch the side of humanity that those in the Classical era would not.

This aesthetic philosophy that flourished in the nineteenth century can most easily be witnessed by comparing the visual art of the Classical era and that of nineteenth century Romanticism.  In the paintings of Jean-Honore Fragonard, who painted in the Classical style during the second half of the eighteenth century, we can see the very typical balance, proportion, and elegance that was so ingrained in the Classical aesthetic.[1] (fig 1 & 2)  In Fragonard’s paintings we can see the cultivated, tame side of humanity and nature in which people are central and in control.  Many artists of the nineteenth century, in contrast, broke away from these ideals.  The paintings of Joseph Mallord William Turner, a prominent English painter of the Romantic era, depict a great shift in aesthetic importance from balance and human control to the power of nature with mankind at the mercy of powers greater than himself.[2] (fig 3 & 4)  In the Romantic we see a harsh, untamed beauty in which humans are no longer the focus, but objects of emotion and yearning, and victims of forces beyond their control.

The Romantic era began with the poetry of the the Sturm und Drang literary movement, which can be traced back to poets such as Friedrich Maximilian von Klinger and Gottlieb Klopstock as early as the middle of the eighteenth century.[3]  The Sturm und Drag movement, which translated literally means “Storm and Stress”, swept through Germany and Austria, and promoted identification with feeling and intuition over reason, order, and polished elegance.  Other poets who helped to encourage the movement include Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Heinrich Heine, Joseph von Eichendorff, Friedrich Ruchert, and Eduard Moricke.  They wrote to themes of nature, night, longing, moonlight, fantasy and magic.

Goethe was one of the most influential and prolific contributors to this poetic movement, and is often said to be the Shakespeare of German literature.  Like any great artist, many factors contributed to his extreme versatility and immense contribution to poetry and the world.  He was born a contemporary of Mozart, in Frankfurt, Germany, on August 28, 1749.  His father was a lawyer and state councilor, and his mother was only 18 when he was born.  Goethe and his sister were taught at home by their father and private tutors.

Goethe grew up in a time of great political change.[4]  The Seven Years’ War, which lasted from 1756 to 1763, established Prussian power and shook Europe.  In 1765, when he was sixteen, Goethe entered the University of Leipzig to study law.  I 1771, he was awarded a doctor of law degree from the University of Strasbourg.

In 1773 his drama Goetz von Berlichingen was published, and the following year he wrote The Sorrows of Young Werther.  Both works were strongly influenced by the Sturm und Drang literary movement.  The Sorrows of Young Werther made Goethe well known throughout Europe.

In 1774 Goethe moved away from Literature for some time when he met the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, Karl August, who wanted someone to restore order to his state affairs.  Goethe was made his minister of state, and for the next 11 years the writer focused on practical issues.  He became an expert in taxation, industrial management, farming and mining.  During his time with the duke Goethe wrote very little.  After just over a decade of this he wanted to return to literature so he asked the duke for a release.

Goethe left for Italy, where he stayed from 1786 to 1788, despite the duke’s order for him to remain in Weimar.  Goethe thought of his Italian trip as the most important time in his life.  Goethe eventually returned to live in Weimar, but only as an adviser to Karl August.  He later became the director of the duke’s court theatre. Goethe’s diverse interests helped to make Weimar the cultural and intellectual centre of Germany.

Goethe decided the Sturm und Drang movement had gone too far, and he found the order and restraint that guided his work for the rest of his life in the classic art and architecture of Italy.  He became conservative but never reactionary.  In fact, in his life Goethe embodied the true Renaissance man.  He was not only a lawyer and politician by profession, but also a botanist, zoologist, geologist, physicist, painter and actor, but of course a writer.

Although Goethe was not a musician himself, he had a profound influence on music.  His poetry was intended to be set to music, and he sought to create a perfect balance between music an poetry.  When writing he often used a parody method to create singable lines.  This meant putting new texts with old tunes.  For this he sed German foldsongs, Lutheran chorales, and parodied lyrics from English and Italian authors.  Regarding the Taschenbuch auf das Jahr 1804 based on Reichardt’s setting of “Tu sei quell dolce fuoco”, Sciller, the esteemed critic once wrote, “Goethe wants to edit an almanac of songs…fashioned to well-known popular melodies… these lyrics are excellent…they elevate the melodies and fit them even better than the original texts”.[5]

Goethe was able to write very quickly, but this does not mean that the process was always quick and simple.  The first draft of his greatest work, Faust, was completed before his move to Weimar in 1775 at the age of 26.  The work was not truly completed, however, until 1831, when Goethe was 82 years old.  Part of the reason for his great delay may have been influenced by Mozart’s death.  Apparently the poet was very disappointed at the great composer’s demise, believing that only Mozart could have put Faust to music.

According to Goethe, his work is intensely autobiographical.[6]  He once stated that his writings are “fragments of a great confession”.  Goethe’s is an extensive confession.  Having written about 200 books including plays, novels poetry, science and travel documents, and his poetry having been set to music over 3000 times, there is little doubt that he is indeed the Shakespeare of German literature.

The form and dramatic content of the Sturm und Drang poetry, especially that of Goethe, lent itself perfectly to song.  The term ‘Lied’ (plural Lieder), which is most simply translated from German to mean “song”, takes on a stronger definition in the Romantic era.  The birthday of Lied is said to be October 14, 1814, the day Schubert composed Gretchen am Spinnrade.  Schubert’s Lieder revolutionized song composition, influencing German composers such as Schumann, Brahms, Wolf, and Mahler who shaped what came to be known as High Romantic Lied.

There are a number of contributing factors that made possible the evolution of this highly developed new song genre.  Poetry is the most obvious influence, but a particularly suitable social climate and the more expressive capabilities of the piano gave composers new tools with which to sharpen their craft.

By the end of the eighteenth century the piano had replaced the clavichord and harpsichord and, in Lieder, the piano assumed equal footing with the voice.  Consequently, the piano became a common item in the homes of a growing upper middle class, and a tradition of domestic music making was established.  Viennese women were encouraged to pursue cultural activities.  Singing, playing the piano, painting and drawing were seen as suitable activities for “cultured” young ladies.  More intimate musical performances developed, in which amateur musicians performed in intimate settings, such as the salon, for close acquaintances.  This trend opened up a broad and profitable market for printed keyboard music and song.

The musical world is fortunate not only because Franz Schubert lived in Austria at this time when conditions for creating his art were prime, but he also contained the insight and genius to create something fresh and new that composers after him couldn’t help but learn from.  Even in his early work, Gretchen am Spinnrade, Schubert portrays the spinning wheel figure in the piano, giving the song a dramatic unity.  Varying moods in the poetry are portrayed with astonishing vividness, and we can already see a wide and imaginative range f modulation, which became a marked feature throughout Schubert’s career.

Lied, as Schubert redefined it, was now fifty-percent lyrical poetry and fifty-percent music, with the piano playing an equal role to the singer.  Goethe had made a great impact on Schubert at the early age of eighteen, and Schubert used this poetry as a stringboard for the rest of his compositional life.  In this short life, Schubert wrote over 600 songs set to the poetry of about ninety poets.

In 1815, the year after composition of Gretchen am Spinnrade, Schubert set the greatest number of Goethe’s texts to song. This was a great year for composition for Schubert.  Among these settings was the Elkönig.  This text was put to music by many composers, although none as successfully as Schubert.  It is set easily due to a consistent rhyme scheme, and through composed couplets. (fig 5)

The drama of this narrative ballad poem by Goethe is built around the horseback ride of a father with his young son in his arms, traveling home through the forest.  They are accosted by the demonic Elf-king, a mythical fairy whom, although unseen by the father, tries to tempt the boy to the after-world.  The Elf-king succeeds in frightening the young boy to death and we are left with the sad regret of lost youth.  A narrator states the first and last of the eight stanzas, book-ending the drama.

Like Gretchen am Spinnrade, Schubert unified this narrative ballad with a figure that underlies the poem in the piano.  In the Elkönig this figure is a driving triplet figure that mimics the galloping of the horse.  The piano also provides a maniacal landler dance figure in the third stanza that accents the Elf-king’s sweet, sinister vocal phrases.

Although we generally view lyrical beauty as Schubert’s finest compositional quality, the most striking elements of his earlier songs are harmonic rather than melodic. (fig 6) This is particularly impressive because, although he was a pianist, at the time of the composition of this work he did not have access to a piano.  This entire Lied is in the key of E minor with a brief modulation to G major while the Elf-king lilts his tempting invitations.  A very convincing harmonic digression ensues during the boy’s struggle until the Elf-king’s inevitable victory in E minor.

The Fin de Siecle is a movement marked by pessimism that took place at the end of the nineteenth century.  Two German terms that personify the affect of this time are Uberdruss, meaning “over stress”, and Weltschmerz, “the pain of the world”.  Hugo Wolf and Gustav Mahler were born into this environment, and it materialized itself in distinct ways in their music.

Wolf composed about 250 songs in his lifetime.  He understood and was influenced by Wagner’s new declamatory style, but despite Wagner’s profound influence on his music, Wolf was one of the last composers of the Romantic era to compose in a smaller form most fitting to the intimate performance.  Wolf was interested in creating a sophisticated urban art song worthy of Wagner.  Hypersensitive to text, he referred to his songs as “poems of the voice and piano”.  The well known coach-pianist Martin Katz once stated that:

Wolf’s name on a program strikes simultaneous chords of joy and terror in an accompanist.  Joy, because of Wolf’s ability to synthesize music an text in a way that allows both to emerge, not merely uncorrupted, but enhanced.  Terror, because, if one is thorough, the technical execution of even his simplest measures is a formidable task…”[7]

Wolf composed most of his songs within a very brief time span, between 1888 and 1891.  His most prolific period, in 1888, is now referred to as his “year of song”.  Between February and October of this year he composed his set of fifty-three songs based on the texts of Eduard Moricke.  These Lieder, which contain some of his most well known songs, are known as the Morike Lieder.  Morike’s poems are based on images of nature, as well as contrasting darker side of character.  These texts provided Wolf with a wide range of subjects from which to draw.  Since he did not like to set poetry that had been set by composers before him, Wolf had much to work with in Morike’s poetry, which had been neglected by other Romantic composers.

One of the first written of these Morike Lieder is Nimmersatte Liebe (Unsatisfied Love).  It is based on the very “sehnsucht” proclamation of passionate appetite unsatisfied, “We bit our lip until they bled”. (fig 7)  It is organized into two strophes, to which Wolf added a playful student song, in the form of a third mini-strophe.  Morike’s text, like Goethe’s, is easily set to music due to a regular poetic rhyme scheme of ABABCCB in iambic tetrameter.  Wolf’s setting is syllabic, which is common in the German and Austrian Lieder of his time.

In an ABA’ form, Wolf used off beat chromaticism, sequencing of motives, syncopated suspensions, and augmented chords to paint this erotic text. (fig   The chordal accompaniment is rhythmically syncopated against the vocal part to give us a sense of unsettled longing.  All of these effects succeed in playfully exploring the rich text.

Hugo Wolf and Gustav Mahler were born in the same year and, despite a mutual admiration for the music of Wagner and Bruckner, their music can be seen moving in distinctly different directions.  Mahler wrote considerably fewer Lieder than Schubert and Wolf, less than fifty songs, but they are important none the less.  Mahler’s Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (Songs of a Wayfarer) is one of the first orchestral song cycles to begin moving Lieder out of the intimate setting of the salon into the concert hall, although much of his earliest Lieder are written for just voice and piano.  His song writing periods fall rather neatly into three groups.  In the first, from about 1880 to 1885, Mahler wrote three books of Lieder und Gesange aus der Jungendzeit for voice and piano, as well as the Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen.  In his second song period, 1889-1899, he wrote fourteen settings of Wunderhorn texts with orchestra.  His final song period featured his Kindertotenlieder for voice and orchestra and the Ruckert-Lieder.

Texts from the Des Knaben Wunderhorn anthology, which Mahler discovered when he was in his early twenties, became an important point of inspiration throughout most of his compositional career.  This famous collection of ballads and folk songs from about 1509 were collected by Ludwig Archim von Arnim and Klemens Brentano, and were published at the beginning of the nineteenth century.  He set a total of twenty-four of these texts, some of which proved to inspire his symphonic writing.

Mahler composed his songs from primarily two sides of his personality.  The first is of the Viennese Angst and Weltschmerz, revealing the dark, anxious side.  The second is the carefree, folksy style from which most of his Wunderhorn settings come.  “Mahler’s unique power as a composer lies in his ability to catch the essence of the sounds of man and nature, and to transmute it into purely musical terms.”[8]  He composed texts as though the belonged to the present moment, not as fold-tune quotations.

Ich ging mit Lust durch einen gurnen Wald is one of Mahler’s songs from his first set, Lieder und Gesange aus der Jugendzeit.  This Lied is from the carefree, gentler side that Mahler occasionally wrote.  “I walked, full of joy, through a green wood” is a narrative dialog set primarily syllabically, with some pneumatic passages. (fig 9)  It is told from the first person in a clever narrative style in four stanzas.

This “Traumerisch” lullaby is based on a very triadic melody in an AA’BA” form. (fig 10)  Mahler paints this nature text with great vividness with birdsong imitations after each phrase, a drone bass line, and a few appoggiaturas.  He also extends the musical line through text repetition, stressing more important text portrayals.

Mahler sets this text in a harmonically straightforward manner.  He often uses a common I-IV-V progression, with a IV9 chord at bar 18.  The song is in D major with the B section in G major, possibly intentionally (and maybe not so pointedly) in the IV that Mahler seems so fond of.  All of these aspects of the text and music result in an honest, intimate, completely unified depiction.

Lied declined as a genre in the twentieth century. After Mahler, composers began to explore vocal music within the context of other genres, and the many twentieth century ‘isms replaced old forms and musical classifications.  Even these new forms, however, were inevitably influenced by the developments of Schubert and the composers of the High Romantic Era.

An Analysis of “Drink My Darling” and “King Champagne the First” from Johann Strauss’s Dei Fledermaus

By Sara Hartley Llewellyn (nee. Frister)

December 1998

            In Die Fledermaus Johann Strauss confronts political disillusionment with unmistakable Viennese escapist humor.  Ever since its opening in Vienna in the May of 1874, Johann Strauss’s most famous operetta has been received by critics and audiences as lighthearted entertainment, but a deeper look into the political and social atmosphere of the 19^th century Viennese people, and at the text and music of Johann Strauss, however, will uncover many fundamental, dark realities presented in this operetta.  The political atmosphere of 19^th century Vienna influenced the conception of Die Fledermaus and this article will explore what Johann Strauss did to portray this in text and music.

            The political climate in nineteenth century Vienna, which immerged out of the Hapsburg era, was sensitive.[1]  It was wrought with political failure and uncertainty that many Austrians would like to deny.  The absolutist era of what Brion calls “political quietism” ruled by “the great empress” Maria Theresa, followed by the “enlightened despotism” era of the benevolent “people’s emperor” Joseph II crumbled with the revolution of 1848.  The revolutionary movement further divided Viennese people when the constitutional regime was established in the 1860s.  Torn by contrasting movements of nationalism, liberalism and passivism the Viennese people turned to cultural rebellion in the fin de siècle (end of the era) movement of the late 19th century.  They relied more and more heavily on their eccentric style of living to escape an unstable reality.

            Behind this intoxicated front, Vienna slid into a world of denial.[2]  On the surface Viennese life had been sheltered.  The World Exhibition in 1873, one year before Die Fledermause’s composition, painted an inspired picture of Vienna as a rich and festive city.  This front, however, covered up such devastating fundamental realities as the financial panic that began in May of that year.  Vienna was the city that could celebrate ins way through any disaster.  A fragile political climate emerged out of this causing the Viennese to look to superficial sources for leadership and continuity.

            Johann Strauss touched the pulse of Vienna when he wrote Die Fledermaus in 1874.  However, he did not create this Viennese masterpiece on his own.  In fact, it is not even based on a Viennese source.  The plot for the “Komische Operette”, Die Fledermaus, was adapted from the Parisian vaudeville comedy, Le Reveillon by Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halevy, which premiered in 1872, based on the peculiarly French cstom of a holiday midnight supper party.

            In order to create a more Viennese conception, the focus was changed to a Viennese ball, and other details, such as names of locale, the addition of the jailer’s character, and the emphasis on the role of alcohol were added in the development of Die Fledermaus.  The fundamental aspects of the plot, however, were retained.  It was an ideal subject for the basis for Johann Strauss’s most famous operetta because of its playful identification with the Viennese exotic, eccentric style and feasible solutions for what many Viennese self-consciously viewed as a depthless existence, intoxication and celebration.

The operetta was an immediate success in Vienna after its premiere on Ester Sunday, April 5, 1874.  Although on the surface it seems that the work was a failure because it was taken out of the theatre during its premiere run, after only sixteen nights, a bit ore research will uncover that this was only because the Theatre an der Wien was pre-booked for the visiting operatic company season.  After this scheduled interruption Die Fledermaus returned to complete a healthy season.  In fact, fifty-eight of the eighty-eight operetta performances in 1874 were of Die Fledermaus making it the most successful operetta of its time.  Much of the success of this work can be attributed to the identification that the audience could make with the text and music.

One must only study portions of the text of this “lighthearted opera” to see that this is not a complete interpretation.  Te most obvious portrayals of deep political disillusionment can initially be found in the many references to alcohol as a substitute for reality.  In the Finale of Act I Alfred, the seducing ex-lover of the mistress Rosalinde, sings “Drink My Darling” revealing life’s “clarity” which can be found through the power of champagne. (fig 1)

A strophe of rhyming couplets in trochaic trimeter, which demonstrates a simple short-sighted mentality, is sun by Alfred, followed by a two line dactylic dimeter refrain.  Rosalinde intercedes with an aside in which she interjects her only objection to such a misleading plan, “O, what is to be done”.[3] Her argument is short lived and cut in half by the second occurrence of the refrain for which she joins Alfred.  Rosalinde quickly gives into his temptations, they sing an extended rhyme, he sings another of his seductive strophes, and finally Alfred and Rosalinde complete the strophe and refrain form with a final recital of the refrain.

The text shows how simple the irony of denial really is, “Once your fair eyes are bright and clear, you’ll see everything as it really is.”  The farce that alcohol could make one more aware of reality contradicts fact, which is that alcohol takes away the ability to judge reality.  This second purpose was really the goal of the self-conscious Viennese people.  The idea of disillusionment is clearly reestablished in the last verse of the text that states “Illusion brings us happiness, even through the joy is brief”.

            The theme of denial and disillusionment does not end with the text.  Johann Strauss uses harmony, melody, rhythm and orchestration to elaborate on this picture of Vienna’s consciousness.  Strauss never strayed far from the festive dance melodies even when he wasn’t writing on of his famous waltzes.  The duet is a light, “allegretto molto” dance tune in triple meter which never modulates, but does entertain strong inclinations towards the dominant key of D major. (fig 3)

            The illustion of lifting out of the tonic foundation is an overwhelming theme throughout the operetta.  One example of this arises in each occurrence of Alfred’s primary theme.  A recurring escape tone first appears, in some variation, in the second half of the first beat of every measure except the third of Alfred’s them, suggesting the evasive nature of the drink. (fig 4)  The escape tone leap is accentuated by the otherewise very conjunct, elegant line, and an accending out of the tonic can also be seen in the short circle of fifths progression found at mm. 21 and 81 of Alfred’s melody.  The apparently playful and carefree, buoyant, dancing melody, and the diatonic line, which begins Alfred’s theme at m. 5 and m. 65, also depict a misleading front.

            The most famous melody in the duet between Alfred and Rosalinde occurs at the end of the strophes and once in the middle of Rosalinde’s aside. (fig 5)  The refrain, marked “dolce”, sates that “happy is the one who accepts what has to be” is identified by its famous Viennese waltz rhythm in the bass, and lyric, chromatic ascending parallel thirds between the violins and vocal line.  An initial dysfunctional dissonance starts each measure, and minor-major third chord relationships in the harmony color this outwardly uplifting line.  The refrain, first introduced by Alfred, is accompanied by parallel orchestration.  A short, playful, staccato interlude then leads into the duet version of this theme.

            During this duet both characters sing in parallel motion on identical text, which suggests that they are at least superficially of like mind, but this idea is soon put into question during Rosalinde’s short, transitional recitative which prepares Alfred for his seductive second strophe.  An appoggiatura chord shos a hesitation in m. 96, but the couple does, however, end the piece in parallel agreement on the refrain, which suggests that Alfred might have won his case hat they not been interrupted.

            The idea of political escapism and social disillusionment through the empowerment of champagne is painted again in the first part of the Finale of Act II, “King Champain the First”. (fig 2)  Arranged primarily in irregularly metered couplets, the text for this piece is also in a verse and refrain format.  The solo verses are sung by Orlofsky, Adele, and Eisenstein, respectively, in which each soloist describes a personified view of the beverage, followed by a refrain, which is an alternating duet between the toasting soloist and the response of the chorus.

            This elaborate rationalization is, granted, primarily a drinking song with a playful affect, however, there are very serious realities buried in the text that seem to contrast significantly with the superficially lighthearted pretense of the work as a whole.  Orlofsky begins, singing his strophe describing the “heavenly substance”.[4] perhaps because he is Russian and not fully of the Viennese disillusionment mentality, Orlofsky’s text is not colored by the reliance on alcohol, but simply a fondness for it.  His descriptive praise only functions to lead into the darker connotations that Adele and Eisenstein introduce.

            In the second verse Adele praises alcohol with the power to “wash away many troublesome cares, and therefore it is a wise ruler who never allows his people to suffer from thirst”.  An extremely serious subject matter for a “lighthearted” drinking song, this text implies that other rulers fall sort of these basic needs, allowing their subjects to suffer from thirst and troublesome cares, and ultimately leaving a need for some form of replacement.  The Viennese tragedy unfolds when the characters acknowledge that the best solution that they can come to is through the illusion of a better reality found only in a make-believe world created through alcohol.

            Eisenstein sings the final strophe by relating the practical function of the “provider of refreshment”.  He brings a final dismal twist to the text when he claims that even the monk in the quiet cell needs to drink “until his nose at last resembles a sparkling ruby” in order to find happiness.  He suggests that not even the most gentle and pure are untouched by the emptiness that only alcohol can fill.

            “King Champagne the First” best relates musically to the concept of disillusionment through its complete pretense of gaiety, which clouds the underlying dark realities of the text.  The tripartite verse and refrain form of this selection lays out the foundation for the traditional, uncomplicated drinking song.  The fast, bright, duple meter and solid D major tonic key set the lively, festive mood.  Although this is not one of Strauss’s famous waltzes, this son exhibits clean rhythms and dance cadences.  Very minimal harmonic movement in the verse and much faster, regular V-I harmonic rhythm in the refrain combine with these many aspects which insinuate the simple, shallow nature of the music.  However, at the main cadences the harmony reveals the irregular resolutions that the text suggests, the most blatant example of which can be found at the end of the verse in m. 20. (fig

            After remaining stagnant on the dominant chord for nine measures the harmony fails to resolve at the end of the verse.  Instead it moves straight into a f minor (iii) chord to begin the refrain.  The lack of resolution at the end of the verse supports the implication of a lack of resolution which is caused by the search for leadership where it ca not be found. The second use of unusual harmonic devices I in the final cadence of the selection.

            After the chorus has completed its celebration on a perfect V-I cadence the orchestra resolves on a sudden IV-I plagal cadence.  The progression is unexpected for two reasons.  The first is that one would expect a simple drinking song to end on a regular I-I cadence because an intoxicated them is generally one without a great deal of creativity.  The second, and more profound reason why this orchestral resolution is strange, is that it brings the orchestra out of the role of accompaniment and implies that it either has the power to influence or reflect on the action. 

            One possible implication for this is that the resolution that the intoxicated party guests reached was more idealistic and founded in an unconvincing reality.  Transversely, the plagal cadence also may hold some common associations with nature, implying that the chorus has come to what is only the natural resolution given their circumstances. 

            The primary verse theme corresponds to Vienna’s typical dancing melodies because its tune is conjunct with intervals of primary thirds, regular rhythms, and light ornamentations. (fig 7)  The basically upward progression joyfully accents the “tra-la, la” portion of the text, but contradicts greatly with the underlying serious implications of the verse text.

            It is impossible to say whether the librettists and composers of this operetta were trying to make a deliberate point abut the denial tendencies of the Viennese people, or if they simply communicated within the context of the dialect of the local people.  Either way the result is extremely revealing when broken down into its many parts.  Despite its frivolous story-line, superficial treatment of characters, and the shallow portrayal of their lives, thee is a deep tragedy in their story.  For the characters of Die Fledermaus, like the people of 19^th century Vienna, alcohol served as the people’s solution to the many troublesome cares which they faced.

By Sara Hartley Llewellyn (nee. Frister)
April 1998

The deep, bitter realization that every great creator of music in Italy had perished prompted Verdi to compose his Requiem. He expressed a great emotion in the tearful “Lachrymose”. Here within we will expose the history and painful motivation of this work, analyze a 1937 musical critique by Donald Tovey, and give a technical analysis of the text and music.
The conception of Verdi’s Requiem began in 1868, with the death of Giachino Rossini, a beloved friend and mentor. Having recently lost all hope for the political situation of his homeland, Italy, Verdi believed that hope for the quality of Italian music, as well, had died with Rossini. He believed that a Requiem should be composed to commemorate the death of such greatness. Nine days after this death Verdi published a general letter directed to all of the most accomplished musicians in Italy. In it he proposed the composition of a Requiem, to be performed on the anniversary of Rossini’s death, commemorating his contribution to their country.
After frustrating complications and numerous delays in the creation of this Missa per Rossini, Verdi began to compose his own requiem based on his intended contribution to the project, the “Libera me”. The composition on Verdi’s Missa da Requiem was officially undertaken in 1873, upon the death of writer Alessandro Manzoni, who’s novel I promessi sposi Verdi called “one of the greatest (books) ever to emerge from a human brain”.
The Requiem premiered in Milan on May 22, 1874 on the first anniversary of Manzoni’s death. The work was received enthusiastically at this, and three other performances that week in Milan. It was also well received in subsequent performances that year in Paris and New York. One of the very few negative opinions of the work was published by Hans von Bülow in the Allgemeine Zeitung, stating that, “the dominant style (of the Requiem) is that of his last manner (of Aida)…improved to its disadvantage”. To this Brahms wrote, after reading the score, “Bülow has disgraced himself for all time; only a genius could write such work”.
In 1937 an early twentieth century English music scholar, Donald Francis Tovey, gave his critique of this work. Tovey graduated with classical honors from Balliol College, Oxford, in 1898 and was appointed the Reid Chair of Music at Edinburgh University in 1914. Deemed an “acid critic” by his peers, he was primarily interested in educating the concert going public with analytical notes of intellectual programs.
Despite his strong performance, teaching, and compositional skills, Tovey’s greatest mark was left through his musical analysis. Essays in Musical Analysis, which dated from 1935-39, began as an extensive series of program notes for the Ried concerts which created “new standards in English writing about music”. Known by music scholars as one of the best organized minds and most insightful evaluators of music in the early twentieth century, Tovey is influenced by a scholarly bias.
Also guided by an acute emotional bias in this critique he categorized Verdi’s work as one of the greatest Requiem Masses to be composed since that of Mozart. According to him, this work “stands before the throne at no disadvantage from its theatrical style”. Although not containing the rich ideals of the church established by Palestrina three hundred years earlier, it is of “flaming sincerity… Verdi’s Requiem is full of strokes of genius; and they are, one and all, architectonic features”.
The text of the “Lachrymose” movement of the Requiem is taken directly from the thirteenth century quatrain by Thomas of Celano, with two additional unmetered lines which were added later. (fig. 1) This poem is a tearful plea to God for mercy on the souls of sinners on the day of judgment. It contains three main affects.
The first section of text is of grief and lamentation, and specifically a proclamation about the tearful scene which will occur on judgment day. It is the longest of the three sections of text, with an iambic syllabic stress and rhyming a, a, b form.
The quatrain form of the text is completed by the first line of the second section of text. In his setting Verdi chose to divide up the poetic structure of the text to clearly define the sections more dramatically according to affect. This section is a pleading prayer to the supreme God, and the immortal Jesus for mercy. It is used as an interlude of relief between sections of grieving which reoccur in the first theme.
The final theme is a plea for rest. This unmetered text states the resolution of tension created in the contrast of the first two themes. This only occurs in the music after the initial themes have exhausted their struggles and are ready for the simple resolve. The Amen then places the ultimate fate of those being judged into the hands of God.
Verdi’s sensitive setting of the text of the “Lachrymose” is intricately displayed in each feature of the music. He uses melody, harmony, orchestration and dynamics to bring across the tearful, pleading drama. These musical ideas correspond with the arrangement of the text.
The first theme is the most important melodic idea in the work. (fig. 2) Its tearful affect is shown in the minor mode, con molta espressive marking, slow, Largo introduction, and simple, unornamented melody. This them reoccurs many times throughout the work, first occurring twice in its pure, solo form, then developing with each repetition. Even during the statement of the second theme, such as at m. 641, fragments of the first sound quiet persistence in secondary voices. (fig. 3)
This next theme acts as melodic relief from the first. It is a break in the tension which is characterized by the major mode, dolcissimo marking, pianissimo dynamic, and high, angelic range. It is particularly effective in creating a mounting climax and revealing the great advantages to the possibility of God’s mercy.
Verdi uses many strokes of genius in setting this text harmonically. One could analyze this work within the context of a harmonic, sonata form. (see graph) The pulsing, lamenting Bb minor chord in the strings establishes the key of the work. After two statements of the primary theme there is a brief modulation in m. 64 to the relative major key, Db, before a final statement of theme one, in the original key, which closes the exposition.
The development begins in m. 653 with a free inversion of the primary theme in the dominant key. A contrapuntal progression through the circle of fifths develops in m. 657. (fig. 4) This builds to a dramatic climax on the subdominant in m. 663, before more elusive tonal material is undertaken in m. 665. Finally there is a return to Bb minor in the recapitulation at m. 677.
Orchestration, as well, plays a large part in this depiction of drama. In m. 628 the winds, consisting of 3 flutes, 2 clarinets, 2 oboe, and 4 bassoons, enter briefly, elude to a fuller, more sustained harmonic development, before dissipating in order to mimic the weeping mezzo-soprano who supports the bass restatement of the them in m. 633.
The opposite effect is achieved in m. 665, when five beats of silence dramatically precede an a cappella introduction of the last two lines of text, sung pianissimo by the choir and soloists. (fig. 5) This haunting stretch is characterized by parallel thirds in the choir. The orchestra reenters in m. 671 in a quiet contrapuntal pleading to Jesus until m. 681, when the chorus and strings sound a condemning staccato decent into a unison plea for rest which lasts from mm. 683-96.
In m. 697 Verdi does the unexpected. Prepared only by the solitary violins with a tremolo on Bb and G, the entire orchestra, with chorus and soloists, sings an intense pianianissimo Amen on a G major chord, which resolves to an orchestral Bb major chord to end the movement. This breath taking finish suggests God’s ultimate granting of peace.
Verdi was not initially enthusiastic about composing his own rRequiem. He felt that it was an exhausted musical setting. In 1871 he went as far as to state, “I don’t like useless things. There are so many, many Requiem Masses!!! It is useless to add one more.” By January of 1874, upon ensuing completion of the work, he wrote, “I feel as though I have become a solid citizen and am no longer the public’s clown…”. Indeed, this Requiem may have been Verdi’s personal “Lachrymose”.

Select Bibliography
Rosen, David. Verdi: Requiem. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995.
Tilmouth, Michael “Tovey, Donald Francis”, in The New Grove Dictionary of Music. London: Macmillan, 1980. Vol. 13, pp. 102-103.
Tovey, Donald Francis. Essays in Musical Analysis. London: Oxord University Press, 1937. Pp. 195-211.
Verdi, Giuseppe. “Lachrymose”. Verdi: Requiem: Vienna Philharmonic. (Phonographic Performance Ltd., 411 944-2).
Verdi, Giuseppe. Mesa da Requiem. London: Ernst Eulenburg Ltd., n.d., pp 129-141.

A violin and piano duet formed in 2008, Duo Nouvo provides light classical and jazz repertoire suitable for every occasion. ENQUIRE ABOUT BOOKING

Meditation

Makin Whopee

Sample repertoire: Classical – Hungarian Dances by Brahms, Meditation from Thais by Massenet, Wedding March by Wagner, Melody from Sheherazade by Rimsky-Korsakov, Schubert Waltzes. Popular – Lullaby in Birdland, Cry me a River, When I Fall in Love, Makin’ Whoopee, Can You Feel The Love Tonight, Smile, Take Five.

Singing Teacher Available for Private Lessons

I am a qualified professional singer and teacher; I am looking for work as a singing teacher.

So… are you ready to learn a bit more of this exciting and beautiful world of The Voice?

Yes? Then don’t hesitate in contacting me, we’ll discuss your needs and we’ll see if I can help you. Among my students I’ve had all types of people and styles! From opera to hard rock, jazz to pop. Overall I always had positive results. The only thing you need to be sure about is WHAT DO YOU WANT? To know how to make my way through it.

My background:

- Diploma by the University of Vigo (Spain) in Musical Education Sciences.

- Post-Graduate Diploma by the Royal Academy of Music (London) in Jazz Singing.

- Diploma in Classical Singing by the Conservatoire of Music of Vigo.

- I’ve done many courses in Classical Technique at the University of Vigo and Conservatoire of Music Mayeusis, as well as with private tutors, allowing me to achieve a good knowledge in classical and popular repertoire.

- I’ve recently taken a masterclass at the Complete Vocal Institute, in London. This opened my views about how to deal with “modern” techniques.

- I’ve done numerous seminars in Jazz.

- I’ve been teaching in several institutions:

            - Public School Balaidos (Vigo): Music for Primary School.

            - Catholic Private School Mariano (Vigo): Music for Primary School up to

               2nd of Secondary.

            - Musical Studies School “A Tempo” (Pontevedra):

              Head of Voice Department.

            - Municipal School of Music (Tui): Choir, Musical Language,

              Vocal Technique, Music and Movement.

            - King’s College and Faraday House (London):

              Warming-Up Vocal Techniques and Corporal Expression to a choir.

- I’ve been teaching Vocal Technique privately in Spain, to students from the age of 5 to 60.

- I recently taught a 10-hour intensive course in Modern Singing for Choir at the School of Music of Moana (Spain).

That’s a general resume concerning Academic Background.

I’ve got plenty of experience as a performer (attached is my CV).

I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.

Have a great day!!!

Kind Regards,

Graciela Rodriguez

28A, Skeffington Road

East Ham – E6 2NB – London

Tel. 07877.095.785

http://www.myspace.com/gracimusic

Biography:

The Ferrer Guitar Duo is a meld of the talent of two well established and successful classical guitarists.  Frank and David have worked together for many years and have collaborated on successful guitar publications and together recorded a newly discovered work by the Spanish composer Jose Ferrer which was published by Chanterelle in Hanover. ENQUIRE ABOUT BOOKING

Cubanos

La Traviatta

Vals Extract 1

Val Extract 2

Frank began his study of the Guitar at the Spanish Guitar Centre, London. Later he studied at the Guildhall School of Music and individually with the world renowned Classical guitarist Julian Byzantine. Frank has played for musical productions including Les Miserables, Grease, The Wiz, The Hot Mikado and Chorus Line, and was requested to play Classical Guitar music for Stephen Hawking and his family and friends at a special event held in St.Albans School, broadcast by Channel 4 television.  He has played at a number of weddings held in St. Albans Cathedral and he is in demand for special occasions held at St. Michaels Manor Hotel.  Frank currently teaches the Guitar for the Hertfordshire County Music Service.

David has been performing, writing and teaching professionally since leaving the Royal Academy of Music, where he won the Julian Bream Guitar Prize. His teaching series, The Guitarist’s Progress published by Garden Music is now established as one of the most popular and thorough introductions to the guitar. In addition to the many books in that series he has had much of his guitar music published by, among others, BBC, EMI and OUP. He has been elected an Associate of the Royal Academy of Music (ARAM) by its Governing Body. In 2006 one of his pupils, David Massey, became only the second guitarist to win the String Section and reach the Final of the BBC Young Musician of the Year.

Recommendation:

“Dear Frank, Thank you very much for playing for us last week at our end of year supper party.  There was a lot of positive feedback from those who attended and enjoyed the music.  With best wishes, Yours sincerely, Diana Rose” – Secretary, Council of Christians and Jews, St Albans Branch

The Solis String Quartet,born in 1991, from the encounter of four young graduated absolute talents of the Conservatory of San Pietro a Maiella of Naples.
Composers and arrangers, Vincenzo Di Donna – violin, Luigi De Maio – violin, Gerardo Morrone – Viola, Antonio Di Francia – Cello, joined to give life to one of the most meaningful artistic experiences ever produced in the city of Naples.
From 1991 until today, the ensemble has covered an artistic path of high importance, becoming undoubtedly one of the best Quartets of Europe in their genre.
From the first experiences with the artist Adriano Celentano, then with Claudio Baglioni, Gianna Nannini, Edoardo Bennato, Elisa, Giorgia and the Negramaro band, just to name few of Italian nationally renown artists, the Solis String Quartet has developed a unique and personal artistic style ranging from pop to jazz, from world music to the best contemporary music that soon projected them in a wider context for collaborations with talents and artists of international high profile.
Among these experiences, it is worth to mention the live shows with Andreas Vollenweider, and then the work for the Andreas album Cosmopoly, with artists such as Carly Simon and Bobby Mc Ferrin, and the collaboration on the single of the new album of Jimmy Cliff , titled “People”, sung with Sting and written by Dave Stewart, launched on the English market. Then, Dulce Pontes, Pat Metheny, Noa, Richard Galliano, Teresa Salgueiro, Donovan, Sinead O’Connor, Maria Joao, Omar Sosa as key musical encounters, that become a real feature of the Solis artistic journey characterised by high versatility and understanding of the many different artistic languages.
“I Can See For Miles ….and Miles…”
One of the essential aspects in the history of the Solis is undoubtedly the live performance activity. In almost twenty years of career the Solis Quartet has covered thousand and thousand of miles. On tour by themselves, and in the many collaborations, the Solis String Quartet is one of the Italian groups regularly invited to exhibit in the main theatres and festivals in Europe. However, the encounter with the artist Noa, remains a highly meaningful moment. With the Israeli artist they exhibited in the 2005 in France, Spain, Germany.
In November 2005 they are the only Italian artists invited to play in Israel at the Memorial Rabin of Tel Aviv, in a concert at the presence of Bill and Hillary Clinton.
In March 2006, in Israel in Tel Aviv city, they realize LIVE! , double album with DVD, the top of an extraordinary artistic companionship with Noa.
Among many live events of their calendar, it is worth to remember the participation to the Pavarotti & Friends , with Edoardo Bennato in 1996, with Elton John, Liza Minnelli and Sheryl Crow among all else and the prestigious participation in 1997 to the celebration of the 700 years anniversary of the takeover of the Ranieri family, in the Theater of Court of the Principato of Monaco, where they hold a concert with Katia Ricciarelli and Massimo Ranieri.
The presence in media is also very rich, both on national radio and tv stations.
Among these, the participation to the Festival di Sanremo, together with Elisa in 2001 and in 2006 with Noa and C. Fava.
In 2001 their first album Metrò is released by the label Confini e Oltre, distributed by BMG Ricordi.The album is received well by critics and public, appreciative of their artistic proposal.” PROMENADE”, is the title of their second album.
Published at the end of 2006, the album is distributed in Germany, France, Austria, Belgium, Lussemburgo, Switzerland and Holland as evidence of an European interest and reception.
Promenade is a mature job, and is conceived as a sort of a travel book collecting the best artistic collaborations and experiences of the previous years that led the Solis Quartet to establish themselves among the main European reference music ensembles.
The songs are characterized by the constant search of the melody – fundamental element of their compositions- by a strong rhythm, absolute characteristic of Solis String Quartet and represent the best of the cultural and musical influences of the countries that the group has visited and of the musicians who have shared experiences with the group.
Friends of the band appear also on the cd, such as Gianna Nannini, Richard Galliano and the long-time artistic companion Noa.
“Promenade Acoustic Live Tour” , it started on April 20, 2007 , from La Palma Club of Rome.
The Solis Quartet project has then been taken on tour in the main European festivals: Montreaux Jazz Festival, the Blue Balls Festival of Lucerna, Adriatic International Festival of Brindisi , Cefalù Jazz Festival, Settimana Mozartiana Festival of Chieti, Paemad Festival of Palermo, Maison Musique di Rivoli and Folk Club of Turin.
Currently, Promenade is the main project in their live activity. Recently the group has taken part to the realization of the last album of the Negramaro band, recorded in S. Francisco with the title “La Finestra”, and has performed live with the band in May (2008) in Milan at San Siro stadium in front of 50000 fans.
Last but not least… the band has paid their deeply felt homage to the Neapolitan classic song tradition in a concert event, held on last 30 june (2008) at San Carlo Theater, with the Portuguese artist Teresa Salgueiro.
Solis String Quartet is a project/work in progress that plays a lot, sleeps little, drinks much coffee, surfs Internet, exchanges opinions, and works on new projects. We will keep you updated….

For More Details please visit their website

www.solis.it