Musical Fireworks
Royal Fireworks Music – George Frideric Handel
Born February 23, 1685, in Halle, Germany
Died April 14, 1759, in London, England
This work was first performed on April 29, 1749, in Green Park, St. James, in London, England, with the composer conducting. This work was originally scored for an impressively festive ensemble of twenty-four oboes, twelve bassoons, contrabassoon, nine horns, nine trumpets, and timpani. The composer later revised the work for three oboes, three bassoons, contrabassoon, three trumpets, three horns, timpani, percussion, harpsichord, theorbo, and strings.
G. F. Handel and J. S. Bach were born about 100 miles apart, but their careers could not have been more different. Bach’s professional life consisted of appointments in Lüneberg, Arnstadt, Mühlhausen, Weimar, Cöthen, and Leipzig – all within a circle of about 150 miles in eastern Germany, from whose borders he never strayed once in his lifetime. Handel spent comparatively little time in Germany, opting for training in Italy and a professional life in London. While Bach composed cantatas for the Lutheran Church, Handel wrote operas for the wicked stage and oratorios on more sacred subjects for Lenten performance. Both composers, however, were first-rate organists, composing numerous pieces for the keyboard. Both wrote for orchestra.
Of Handel’s orchestral music, two sets of pieces, both written for Royal functions, are most popular. Composed for King George I, the Water Music dates from 1715 and was written to accompany a leisurely outing on a barge floating down the Thames. The other work, Handel’s Royal Fireworks Music, wascomposed for an incendiary celebration of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle (marking the end of the War of Austrian Succession) on April 29, 1749. Both pieces may be seen as bookends at the opposite ends of a very long career.
It was to be a festive evening in London’s Green Park with a fireworks display to the accompaniment of Handel’s mammoth new suite. Handel scored the work so it would surely be heard over the explosions – twenty-four oboes, twelve bassoons, contrabassoon, nine horns, nine trumpets, and six timpani requiring three players. No strings were needed as they simply would not have been loud enough. Subtlety was not a requirement. The grounds of the park were decorated with a new building over a hundred feet tall and four hundred feet long designed by Jean-Nicolas Servandoni, the architect of St. Sulpice and stage designer for the Paris Opera. It was such a huge undertaking that work was not completed until the day of the event. This structure from which the fireworks were launched proved less than reliable. As the building was constructed of wood, it caught fire shortly after the event began, sending the crowd fleeing. Strong winds fanned the flames. The British politician Horace Walpole reported that two people were killed. Always the entrepreneur, Handel decided to add strings to the suite in hopes of marketing it to the ever-curious public. This also allowed him to transform his score into a delightful addition to the concert repertoire.
Music for the Royal Fireworks begins with a rousing “Grand Overture of warlike instruments.” It is in French Overture form with a slow introduction using dotted rhythms, followed by a quick second section. The fireworks began with a 101 cannon salute, followed by the bourée, a lively and peaceful dance. La Paix represents peace itself as a largo movement with a swaying Siciliano rhythm. La Rejouissance is a festive piece representing the intended celebratory spirit of what should have been a festival of rejoicing. The suite ends with two contrasting minuets – one loud, one soft.
Concerto for Orchestra – Béla Bartók
Born March 25, 1881, Nagyszentmiklós, Hungary
Died September 26, 1945, New York City
This work was premiered on December 1, 1944, by the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Serge Koussevitzky. It is scored for piccolo, three flutes, three oboes, English horn, three clarinets, bass clarinet, three bassoons, contrabassoon, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, two harps, and strings.
Hungarian composer Béla Bartók had a dedication to music that rivals that of any composer. He had a burning interest in the folk music of Hungary, Romania, and the other countries of Eastern Europe. The area was so rich with folk music that Bartók felt the need to collect and codify it, so he set out in the early years of the twentieth century with a wax cylinder recorder to visit some of the world’s most remote villages. His recordings are still valuable to researchers today, as many of the traditions recorded therein have been lost to modern ideas of progress.
In his concert music, Bartók’s dedication reaches a new level. He believed that one of the prime indicators of musical worth is its structure, so he filled his works with structural elements that continue to amaze researchers. Many of his works reflect mathematical principles. For instance, the Golden Ratio (a ratio that can be distilled into the number 1.618) figures into some of his pieces in that major events – changes of keys, dynamics, or formal sections – often occur 61.8% of the way through a work. This often goes much further with the same ratio occurring within the resulting sections. Much has been written of these relationships for those who wish to pursue the fascinating subject even further.
Bartók’s output is vast and varied. He composed stage works, including the psychological opera Duke Bluebeard’s Castle and the ballet The Miraculous Mandarin. For the piano, his own instrument, he composed three concerti and numerous solo works, including the multi-volume educational series entitled Mikrokosmos. There are numerous chamber works (his six string quartets are the most significant since Beethoven) and pieces for orchestra, culminating in the famous Concerto for Orchestra composed on his deathbed during the final stages of leukemia.
When World War II began its ravages of Europe, many artists fled the encroachment of the Nazi army. A significant number came to America, including Bartók, who arrived in 1940. With the recent conservative wave that had overtaken the music world, he found that his music had suddenly gone out of style. When his financial situation became dire, Bartók was forced to give lectures. All the while, he was experiencing symptoms that led to a diagnosis of leukemia. In early 1943 the composer was hospitalized. Two of Bartók’s friends, conductor Fritz Reiner and violinist Joseph Szigeti, decided to help the ailing composer. Knowing that Bartók would never accept a charitable gift outright, they raised the funds to commission a new orchestral work. The well-known conductor of the Boston Symphony, Serge Koussevitzky, visited the composer in his hospital room and presented the commission, making no mention of Reiner and Szigeti. Bartók accepted and plunged headlong into composition of the Concerto for Orchestra, working throughout the year and finding a restorative quality in his labors. He attended the premiere in December of 1944, but died barely nine months later.
Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra is an unusual work, but not only for its progressive and haunting musical language. Bartók’s approach is concerned as much with the creation of interesting musical textures as with the presentation of beautiful melodies. The term ‘concerto’ usually refers to a large-scale work that features a virtuoso soloist. However, in this case, the piece requires such a level of proficiency from all players that Bartók envisioned it as a concerto for the entire orchestra. Most solo concerti have three movements, but the composer provides five in this work. The reason for this is he wanted to build the piece around a weighty central movement, creating an arch with related second and fourth, and first and fifth movements.
The work begins with a somber introduction in the lowest reaches of the string section answered by mysterious music in the strings and flutes. After a powerful climax, the main body of the movement begins at a quicker tempo with an imposing theme in the violins. After significant development, the movement ends in a potent burst of orchestration combining all the themes.
“Giuoco della copie,” or “Game of Pairs,” is the heading of the delightful second movement. Beginning with a snare drum solo, the music unfolds gradually by presenting portions of the main theme in instrumental pairings, each written at a different musical interval. Beginning with bassoons (sixths), the listener then hears a progression of oboes in thirds, clarinets in sevenths, flutes in fifths, and trumpets in seconds. A chorale, made even more interesting by its delayed cadences, interrupts the proceedings before an ornamented version of the opening section returns. A lone snare drum closes the movement.
The core of the Concerto for Orchestra is the third movement, an elegy that is a haunting recollection of Bartók’s native Hungary. Filled with the abrupt snapping rhythms (short-long) that are abundant in Magyar folk music, this movement unfolds slowly and with great effect. Passionate string and brass outbursts contrast with the eerie nocturnal sounds of the woodwinds and percussion – a mysterious approach that Bartók called “night music” and is found in several of his works.
Bartók’s fourth movement is entitled Intermezzo interrotto, or “Interrupted Intermezzo.” Beginning with a folk-like melody in the oboe, the unusual odd-number meter gives the music a decidedly Eastern European feel. A sumptuous string theme is heard, only to be interrupted by a quotation from Shostakovich’s Leningrad Symphony – a new work at the time that was heard on numerous radio broadcasts during Bartók’s convalescence. It is here that Bartók expressed his dissatisfaction with his colleague’s work, providing musical ‘raspberries’ in this parody. The lovely string theme resumes and ends the movement.
The finale is an orchestral tour-de-force opening with an audacious horn call. A swirling string pattern begins, reminiscent of a peasant dance, and grows wilder as it unfolds. Several themes emerge from the fray, ranging from graceful woodwind melodies to martial trumpet calls. A quieter central section brings back the “night music” of the third movement. The peasant dance returns with bright trumpet calls leading to a fugal section that develops the martial interjection into strange new shapes. After several surprises, Bartók ends the work by bringing the peasant elements together with some of the fugal ideas in a brilliant coda that is at once dazzling and life-affirming.
©2011 Orpheus Music Prose & Craig Doolin
www.orpheunotes.com
Born February 23, 1685, in Halle, Germany
Died April 14, 1759, in London, England
This work was first performed on April 29, 1749, in Green Park, St. James, in London, England, with the composer conducting. This work was originally scored for an impressively festive ensemble of twenty-four oboes, twelve bassoons, contrabassoon, nine horns, nine trumpets, and timpani. The composer later revised the work for three oboes, three bassoons, contrabassoon, three trumpets, three horns, timpani, percussion, harpsichord, theorbo, and strings.
G. F. Handel and J. S. Bach were born about 100 miles apart, but their careers could not have been more different. Bach’s professional life consisted of appointments in Lüneberg, Arnstadt, Mühlhausen, Weimar, Cöthen, and Leipzig – all within a circle of about 150 miles in eastern Germany, from whose borders he never strayed once in his lifetime. Handel spent comparatively little time in Germany, opting for training in Italy and a professional life in London. While Bach composed cantatas for the Lutheran Church, Handel wrote operas for the wicked stage and oratorios on more sacred subjects for Lenten performance. Both composers, however, were first-rate organists, composing numerous pieces for the keyboard. Both wrote for orchestra.
Of Handel’s orchestral music, two sets of pieces, both written for Royal functions, are most popular. Composed for King George I, the Water Music dates from 1715 and was written to accompany a leisurely outing on a barge floating down the Thames. The other work, Handel’s Royal Fireworks Music, wascomposed for an incendiary celebration of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle (marking the end of the War of Austrian Succession) on April 29, 1749. Both pieces may be seen as bookends at the opposite ends of a very long career.
It was to be a festive evening in London’s Green Park with a fireworks display to the accompaniment of Handel’s mammoth new suite. Handel scored the work so it would surely be heard over the explosions – twenty-four oboes, twelve bassoons, contrabassoon, nine horns, nine trumpets, and six timpani requiring three players. No strings were needed as they simply would not have been loud enough. Subtlety was not a requirement. The grounds of the park were decorated with a new building over a hundred feet tall and four hundred feet long designed by Jean-Nicolas Servandoni, the architect of St. Sulpice and stage designer for the Paris Opera. It was such a huge undertaking that work was not completed until the day of the event. This structure from which the fireworks were launched proved less than reliable. As the building was constructed of wood, it caught fire shortly after the event began, sending the crowd fleeing. Strong winds fanned the flames. The British politician Horace Walpole reported that two people were killed. Always the entrepreneur, Handel decided to add strings to the suite in hopes of marketing it to the ever-curious public. This also allowed him to transform his score into a delightful addition to the concert repertoire.
Music for the Royal Fireworks begins with a rousing “Grand Overture of warlike instruments.” It is in French Overture form with a slow introduction using dotted rhythms, followed by a quick second section. The fireworks began with a 101 cannon salute, followed by the bourée, a lively and peaceful dance. La Paix represents peace itself as a largo movement with a swaying Siciliano rhythm. La Rejouissance is a festive piece representing the intended celebratory spirit of what should have been a festival of rejoicing. The suite ends with two contrasting minuets – one loud, one soft.
Concerto for Orchestra – Béla Bartók
Born March 25, 1881, Nagyszentmiklós, Hungary
Died September 26, 1945, New York City
This work was premiered on December 1, 1944, by the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Serge Koussevitzky. It is scored for piccolo, three flutes, three oboes, English horn, three clarinets, bass clarinet, three bassoons, contrabassoon, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, two harps, and strings.
Hungarian composer Béla Bartók had a dedication to music that rivals that of any composer. He had a burning interest in the folk music of Hungary, Romania, and the other countries of Eastern Europe. The area was so rich with folk music that Bartók felt the need to collect and codify it, so he set out in the early years of the twentieth century with a wax cylinder recorder to visit some of the world’s most remote villages. His recordings are still valuable to researchers today, as many of the traditions recorded therein have been lost to modern ideas of progress.
In his concert music, Bartók’s dedication reaches a new level. He believed that one of the prime indicators of musical worth is its structure, so he filled his works with structural elements that continue to amaze researchers. Many of his works reflect mathematical principles. For instance, the Golden Ratio (a ratio that can be distilled into the number 1.618) figures into some of his pieces in that major events – changes of keys, dynamics, or formal sections – often occur 61.8% of the way through a work. This often goes much further with the same ratio occurring within the resulting sections. Much has been written of these relationships for those who wish to pursue the fascinating subject even further.
Bartók’s output is vast and varied. He composed stage works, including the psychological opera Duke Bluebeard’s Castle and the ballet The Miraculous Mandarin. For the piano, his own instrument, he composed three concerti and numerous solo works, including the multi-volume educational series entitled Mikrokosmos. There are numerous chamber works (his six string quartets are the most significant since Beethoven) and pieces for orchestra, culminating in the famous Concerto for Orchestra composed on his deathbed during the final stages of leukemia.
When World War II began its ravages of Europe, many artists fled the encroachment of the Nazi army. A significant number came to America, including Bartók, who arrived in 1940. With the recent conservative wave that had overtaken the music world, he found that his music had suddenly gone out of style. When his financial situation became dire, Bartók was forced to give lectures. All the while, he was experiencing symptoms that led to a diagnosis of leukemia. In early 1943 the composer was hospitalized. Two of Bartók’s friends, conductor Fritz Reiner and violinist Joseph Szigeti, decided to help the ailing composer. Knowing that Bartók would never accept a charitable gift outright, they raised the funds to commission a new orchestral work. The well-known conductor of the Boston Symphony, Serge Koussevitzky, visited the composer in his hospital room and presented the commission, making no mention of Reiner and Szigeti. Bartók accepted and plunged headlong into composition of the Concerto for Orchestra, working throughout the year and finding a restorative quality in his labors. He attended the premiere in December of 1944, but died barely nine months later.
Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra is an unusual work, but not only for its progressive and haunting musical language. Bartók’s approach is concerned as much with the creation of interesting musical textures as with the presentation of beautiful melodies. The term ‘concerto’ usually refers to a large-scale work that features a virtuoso soloist. However, in this case, the piece requires such a level of proficiency from all players that Bartók envisioned it as a concerto for the entire orchestra. Most solo concerti have three movements, but the composer provides five in this work. The reason for this is he wanted to build the piece around a weighty central movement, creating an arch with related second and fourth, and first and fifth movements.
The work begins with a somber introduction in the lowest reaches of the string section answered by mysterious music in the strings and flutes. After a powerful climax, the main body of the movement begins at a quicker tempo with an imposing theme in the violins. After significant development, the movement ends in a potent burst of orchestration combining all the themes.
“Giuoco della copie,” or “Game of Pairs,” is the heading of the delightful second movement. Beginning with a snare drum solo, the music unfolds gradually by presenting portions of the main theme in instrumental pairings, each written at a different musical interval. Beginning with bassoons (sixths), the listener then hears a progression of oboes in thirds, clarinets in sevenths, flutes in fifths, and trumpets in seconds. A chorale, made even more interesting by its delayed cadences, interrupts the proceedings before an ornamented version of the opening section returns. A lone snare drum closes the movement.
The core of the Concerto for Orchestra is the third movement, an elegy that is a haunting recollection of Bartók’s native Hungary. Filled with the abrupt snapping rhythms (short-long) that are abundant in Magyar folk music, this movement unfolds slowly and with great effect. Passionate string and brass outbursts contrast with the eerie nocturnal sounds of the woodwinds and percussion – a mysterious approach that Bartók called “night music” and is found in several of his works.
Bartók’s fourth movement is entitled Intermezzo interrotto, or “Interrupted Intermezzo.” Beginning with a folk-like melody in the oboe, the unusual odd-number meter gives the music a decidedly Eastern European feel. A sumptuous string theme is heard, only to be interrupted by a quotation from Shostakovich’s Leningrad Symphony – a new work at the time that was heard on numerous radio broadcasts during Bartók’s convalescence. It is here that Bartók expressed his dissatisfaction with his colleague’s work, providing musical ‘raspberries’ in this parody. The lovely string theme resumes and ends the movement.
The finale is an orchestral tour-de-force opening with an audacious horn call. A swirling string pattern begins, reminiscent of a peasant dance, and grows wilder as it unfolds. Several themes emerge from the fray, ranging from graceful woodwind melodies to martial trumpet calls. A quieter central section brings back the “night music” of the third movement. The peasant dance returns with bright trumpet calls leading to a fugal section that develops the martial interjection into strange new shapes. After several surprises, Bartók ends the work by bringing the peasant elements together with some of the fugal ideas in a brilliant coda that is at once dazzling and life-affirming.
©2011 Orpheus Music Prose & Craig Doolin
www.orpheunotes.com