Richard Wagner: Overture to The Flying Dutchman
[Wilhelm] Richard Wagner was born on May 22, 1813 in Leipzig and died in Venice on February 13, 1883. His early operas, including the Flying Dutchman, represented the high point of German Romantic Opera. His later operas struck out on new paths, setting the course for all opera of the later nineteenth century and beyond. The Flying Dutchman (Der fliegende Holländer) was first performed in Dresden on January 2, 1843. Wagner twice revised the overture, in 1852, and again in 1860. It is the final version that is usually performed. It is scored for piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes (including English horn), 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, harp, and strings.
The Flying Dutchman (Der fliegende Holländer) has the distinction of being the earliest of Wagner’s operas to have entered into the regular repertory of opera houses. Performances of an earlier opera, Rienzi (1840), are rare. Even rarer are performances of his earliest operas, Die Feen and Das Liebesverbot, and his purely instrumental works. The origins of the plot for the Flying Dutchman lie in legend. The idea of a cursed sailor who must wander the oceans for eternity is one manifestation of the conceit of the “Wandering Jew.” The Faustian story, as developed by Wagner, gives the Dutchman opportunity for redemption by allowing him come ashore once every seven years so that he may seek a woman who will remain true to him until death. Should he find her, he would be released from his bargain with Satan and find salvation. Senta, the daughter of a Norwegian seafarer, proves to be that woman, but only after she proves her faithfulness by throwing herself into the ocean.
Wagner developed the story into a prose outline during his onerous journeyman years in Paris. Financial exigencies forced him to sell his scenario for 500 francs in July of 1841, but upon his repatriation in German soil (Dresden), he fulfilled his desire to write his own opera on the legend of the Flying Dutchman by the end of November of that same year. The opera received its premiere in Dresden on January 2, 1843, but closed after only four performances. The opera owes much to the model of Wagner’s predecessor at the Saxon Court Opera, Carl Maria von Weber (1786-1826), whose opera, Der Freischütz (1821), deals with many of the same themes as Wagner’s. Indeed, the Overture to the Flying Dutchman, with its exciting coda, would be unimaginable without Weber’s model. Wagner wrote an “Explanatory Program” for the Overture to the Flying Dutchman in Zurich in 1853, which I summarize here for sake of length. To paraphrase one critic, the spray of the ocean’s waves emanate from every page of the opera’s score. Those familiar with Mendelssohn’s Hebrides Overture (Fingal’s Cave) will immediately recognize Wagner’s indebtedness. The overture (as well as the opera itself) centers on the haunting music of a ballad sung by Senta in Act II, in which she narrates the Dutchman’s story and reveals that she wishes to be the agent of his salvation. The overture, cast in traditional sonata form, begins with the hollow and open sound of a perfect fifth (the pitches D and A)—a sonority that Wagner took from the first movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. This prepares the way for a thrilling horn call associated with the Dutchman and his ship. The oboe and English horn then play the tune of Senta’s ballad. The main body of the overture is based upon the brooding Dutchman’s monologue from Act I, alternating with snatches of Senta’s ballad and more cheerful music associated with the Norwegian sailors. The exiting coda in D major, again taken almost directly from Senta’s ballad, represents her resolve to redeem the Dutchman from his dreaded curse. The strains of the ballad and an apotheosis of the Dutchman’s horn call bring the music to a satisfying conclusion.
Notes by David B. Levy © 2006
Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky: Symphony no. 5 in E Minor, op. 64
Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky was born on May 7, 1840 in Votinsk, Russia and died on November 6, 1893 in Saint Petersburg. He remains one of the most popular composers of all time, beloved especially for his symphonies, ballets, and concertos. His Symphony no. 5 received its first performance on November 16, 1888 with the composer conducting. Despite its initial lukewarm reception, it has become an important staple of the symphonic repertory. The work is scored for 3 flutes (piccolo), 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons,, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, and strings.
Tchaikovsky’s Fourth and Fifth Symphonies are separated by a hiatus of eleven years, during which time the composer underwent major personal crises, chief among them being his impetuous decision to wed Antonina Milyukova in 1877. This relationship led inevitably to a dissolution of the marriage, but it was only after Antonina gave birth in 1881 to an illegitimate child that Tchaikovsky had the legal grounds to file for divorce. Antonina entered into the marriage fully aware of Tchaikovsky’s homosexuality and it is hard to understand why either of them chose to become involved in this ill-fated relationship. Tsarist Russian society would never condone homosexuality, and perhaps the composer married in order to stave off rumors of his true sexual orientation. This unhappy period in Tchaikovsky’s life resulted in few successful major compositions, with the Violin Concerto and Piano Trio being the most conspicuous exceptions. Confidence began to return to the composer in 1884, although his self-doubts about successfully handling larger multi-movement compositions such as symphonies persisted.
Tchaikovsky’s way of dealing with his doubts was to work through them, and the composition of his Fifth Symphony is a fine example of just how well he could do so. The four movements of the work are, as is the case with the Fourth Symphony, linked by a common motto. According to Gerald Abraham, this solemn theme was derived from the melody “Turn not into sorrow” from Mikhail Glinka’s opera A Life for the Tsar, which invites one to look for a programmatic interpretation of the symphony. As is the case with Tchaikovsky’s other symphonies, however, the real drama lies within the music itself. The first movement begins with an Andante introduction that presents the motto, played by two clarinets in their low register. The main body, Allegro con anima, introduces a melancholy dance theme in the clarinet and bassoon. Tchaikovsky creates a sense of growth by means of repetition, each time reinforcing the theme with additional orchestral colors until the entire orchestra joins in for its most powerful statement. This quickly dissipates and a wind-string dialogue ensues, followed by a lyrical, syncopated tune. The exposition closes with a brilliant flourish, which itself is continued by the horns to usher in the development section. The coda begins in similar fashion, but yields finally to the somber color of the bassoon, timpani, and lower strings.
The second movement, Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza (“with some liberties”) begins with the lower strings imitating the sounds of an organ playing a hymn. This frames the presentation of the popular tune sung by the solo horn. The violins and violas offer a second tune, which builds to a sonorous peak before relaxing into yet another new–more melancholy–theme in the clarinet, followed by the bassoon. This new theme also builds to a climax, but is interrupted by the motto from the first movement. Broad pizzicato chords prepare for a restatement of the horn theme, now taken over by the violins. Trombone and bassoons thunder the motto a last time before the movement comes to a close.
The Allegro moderato third movement is a waltz. A letter from Tchaikovsky to his patron, Madame Nadia von Meck, reveals that the lilt of this tune was inspired by the gait of a young man the composer saw while in Florence. The bassoon takes center stage with a lyrical solo comprised of wide leaps and syncopated rhythms. The bouncing lilt of the strings provides contrast in the central (Trio) section, an articulation that forms a delightful counterpoint to the return of the waltz. The sole disturbing element of this whimsical dance is the statement of the motto in the coda by the clarinet and bassoon.
The finale begins, Andante maestoso, with a nostalgic transformation of the motto in E Major—a forecast of the apotheosis to come. The Allegro vivace, however, unleashes a sonata form movement of tremendous power and drama that returns us to the minor mode. Timpani and bassoons hammer out a pulsating ostinato that leads to a new melody reminiscent of Robert Schumann’s style. The exposition ends with a reprise of the motto. As one might expect, the coda is devoted almost exclusively to the motto, and it begins with a slower speed (Poco meno mosso), but gets faster as it approaches what seems to be its conclusion. A new tempo, Moderato assai e molto maestoso, brings in the motto accompanied by a triplet figure in the winds. The Presto section reintroduces the Schumannesque theme once again before one final change of tempo, Molto meno mosso, presents an apotheosis of—not the motto—but the dance theme of the first movement, now proudly paraded by winds and brass.
Program Note by David B. Levy © 2012/2023
