Why has it taken me so long to write about the G minor sonata? When one thinks Schumann, I'm willing to bet that he/she does not think "piano sonata." The sonatas are just not his best works. Even our own beloved professor said that Schumann's best pieces were those that are not entitled "sonata." I don't find the G minor sonata as inspiring as the other pieces by Schumann that we have studied.
I can't discredit it altogether though. I imagine the first movement must be fun to play. One of those pieces that just feels good in the hands. That's one reason why I love playing Schumann. I think that his music, although it's not as pianistic as Chopin for instance, just physically feels good to play.
The second movement is beautiful. The melody successfully conveys the "Autumn" reference, a song on which this movement is based. The third movement is an energy-filled scherzo ("Beethovenian energy"). Schumann seems to explore the range of the keyboard more than usual in this movement.
Perhaps it's just the last movement that I struggle with. It is an impetuous perpetual motion movement, which usually I can appreciate, but for some reason I am less than impressed with this one. Aside from the brief moments of contrast provided by the lyrical sections, there is not enough variation to hold my interest. Seems like a beast to perform.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
Schumann Fantasie
Writing a post about the Schumann Fantasie is a bit more difficult for me than writing about the other Schumann pieces we have studied in piano lit. Part of the reason for this is that I am less familiar with it than I am with such pieces as Carnaval and Papillons, but also something about the Fantasie is inherently confusing to me. I just don't grasp it as easily as I do the others. I thought at first maybe this was due to a lack of continuity, but it is no more lacking than his other pieces. And he does achieve continuity through repetition, if nothing else (probably A-G-F-E-D, reference to Clara, too).
I think that there are certain qualities to the piece that make the Fantasie less tangible to me than others. While listening I subconsciously was thinking of it as a sonata and thought to myself, "Why did he not reverse movements 2 and 3?" Even though it is labeled as a fantasy, it does have some sonata-like characteristics (three movements, repeating themes and motives, etc.) Clearly the key areas could not have been switched since the 2nd movement is in Eb, but aside from that, the 2nd movement to me seems like a grand finale in the wrong place. I love the chordal theme of this movement - it is the Schumann whom we all know and love. The energy of this movement is appropriate to that of a finale, and the 3rd movement would serve well in the middle - a vocal melody with accompaniment.
After listening, I do not get the sense that this is a deep lament for Clara. For starters, it's in C major! Not exactly the key that I would have chosen as a lament. Clara's secret theme, though, is in D minor. Since Schumann intended to hide this reference to her, perhaps he also decided to mask his true feelings inside this minor motive within a major movement?
On a side note, Arnaldo Cohen's recording of this piece is awesome. It's so exciting, and I love how he is able to follow every single line. This piece is all about layering, textures, and counter-melodies, and Cohen brings out the different lines so beautifully. It's not over-done, if you know what I mean. Not too much attention to detail, but just enough so that the audience can notice all of the intricacies of the music.
I have come to love Schumann and want to play more of this music, but I think that I'll leave this one alone for a while.
I think that there are certain qualities to the piece that make the Fantasie less tangible to me than others. While listening I subconsciously was thinking of it as a sonata and thought to myself, "Why did he not reverse movements 2 and 3?" Even though it is labeled as a fantasy, it does have some sonata-like characteristics (three movements, repeating themes and motives, etc.) Clearly the key areas could not have been switched since the 2nd movement is in Eb, but aside from that, the 2nd movement to me seems like a grand finale in the wrong place. I love the chordal theme of this movement - it is the Schumann whom we all know and love. The energy of this movement is appropriate to that of a finale, and the 3rd movement would serve well in the middle - a vocal melody with accompaniment.
After listening, I do not get the sense that this is a deep lament for Clara. For starters, it's in C major! Not exactly the key that I would have chosen as a lament. Clara's secret theme, though, is in D minor. Since Schumann intended to hide this reference to her, perhaps he also decided to mask his true feelings inside this minor motive within a major movement?
On a side note, Arnaldo Cohen's recording of this piece is awesome. It's so exciting, and I love how he is able to follow every single line. This piece is all about layering, textures, and counter-melodies, and Cohen brings out the different lines so beautifully. It's not over-done, if you know what I mean. Not too much attention to detail, but just enough so that the audience can notice all of the intricacies of the music.
I have come to love Schumann and want to play more of this music, but I think that I'll leave this one alone for a while.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
introduction: the social order and music - summary + reaction
The nineteenth century saw an expansion of society (political, social, and industrial advances) that had significant impact on the lives of musicians and the music that they wrote. Mechanical inventions of the eighteenth century were expanded upon, such as those of transportation and communication, both of which aided in furthering the music industry. As music became more widespread and readily available, the public concert genre soared to new heights. Audience sizes grew, and performance halls and theaters instituted promotional procedures such as memberships and subscription concerts. The increase in recitals stimulated music sales, which in turn helped to improve publishing. This expanding market gave rise to new developments in instrument manufacturing and distribution, which led to more demand for teachers and performers. As a result, conservatories were founded in every important city in the nineteenth century.
These developments were accompanied by rapid change that created problems and tension for some. Composers turned to folk idioms as a means to escape from the ever-changing reality in which they now lived. This was a way for composers to promote music and melodies that were characteristic to their own countries - evidence of the beginnings of nationalism.Patronage served a different role than it had in the previous century. With the rise of the solo virtuoso as well as a larger, more educated audience, patrons no longer had the same control over the types of music that were written, as they did in the Baroque and Classical eras. The growing concert attendance gave composers the freedom to compose whatever they pleased.
With the Revolution period of the nineteenth century came the rise of the individual and increased political and social freedom. It was at this time that music began to be composed as independent art works just for the sake of being art.
If you think about it, at the structure of our present society, not a whole lot has changed since the nineteenth century. Advances in technology continue to be made, but now at a rate so rapid that we have become obsessed with it. Machines have become so precise that they are beginning to destroy the work force (grocery store self-check outs ring a bell?). Never mind cell phones - they are slowly starting to control our lives. How many people do you think cannot go a day without their phones? I feel bad for that person in the restaurant whose date is talking on his bluetooth during dinner!
I imagine that factory work in the nineteenth century must have been pretty wretched. Difficult labor, tiring, long hours.... But someone had to do it, and it was for the benefit of the rest of society that these people labored. Think about the war that we are experiencing right now. I haven't the words to try to describe what our soldiers are dealing with for the benefit of the rest of society, but someone has to do it. I can't think of anything else more noble.
If you think about it, at the structure of our present society, not a whole lot has changed since the nineteenth century. Advances in technology continue to be made, but now at a rate so rapid that we have become obsessed with it. Machines have become so precise that they are beginning to destroy the work force (grocery store self-check outs ring a bell?). Never mind cell phones - they are slowly starting to control our lives. How many people do you think cannot go a day without their phones? I feel bad for that person in the restaurant whose date is talking on his bluetooth during dinner!
I imagine that factory work in the nineteenth century must have been pretty wretched. Difficult labor, tiring, long hours.... But someone had to do it, and it was for the benefit of the rest of society that these people labored. Think about the war that we are experiencing right now. I haven't the words to try to describe what our soldiers are dealing with for the benefit of the rest of society, but someone has to do it. I can't think of anything else more noble.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Kreisleriana + Carnaval
Audiences always love Carnaval, but Kreisleriana is a lesser known work and, in my opinion, is widely underplayed. But I guess I can see the reasons for this. One has to decide if he/she performs for the audience or for himself. I have played Carnaval but never Kreisleriana, and I can imagine that it could be one of those pieces that is more enjoyable for the performer than for the audience. Not to discredit the aural effect of the piece though! It has moments of beauty that Carnaval never even touches, but it does lack Carnaval's extroverted character that pleases so many.
Both pieces are a journey, and each has its individual story. Carnaval is a journey through scenes and characters, sometimes highlighting only vague images (such as the sad + happy clowns or an evening at the ball), and other times it makes specific reference to actual people (Chopin, Paganini, and the two women whom Schumann loved). Kreisleriana, on the contrary, is much more abstract. It is a life journey permeated with contradiction and emotion. Simple forms such as binary or ternary prevail in these short pieces, symbolizing this journey. Schumann loses himself in each of the eight fantasies, yet he always manages to find his way home.
Carnaval is evidence enough of Schumann's contradictory nature, but Kreisleriana is a true display of such. Perhaps it is just because the piece is less familiar to me than Carnaval, but the brutal contrasts and adjustments in character (with no attempt on Schumann's part to reconcile this!) in Kreisleriana strike me more heavily than those in Carnaval. Kreisleriana contains a lifetime of emotions, from frenzy to bliss, demonic and haunted to ecclesiastical, even suspicious at times. In each of the eight pieces, neither beauty nor conflict can exist without the other. They are always intertwined; neither lasts long before it is interrupted by the other.
Both pieces are a journey, and each has its individual story. Carnaval is a journey through scenes and characters, sometimes highlighting only vague images (such as the sad + happy clowns or an evening at the ball), and other times it makes specific reference to actual people (Chopin, Paganini, and the two women whom Schumann loved). Kreisleriana, on the contrary, is much more abstract. It is a life journey permeated with contradiction and emotion. Simple forms such as binary or ternary prevail in these short pieces, symbolizing this journey. Schumann loses himself in each of the eight fantasies, yet he always manages to find his way home.
Carnaval is evidence enough of Schumann's contradictory nature, but Kreisleriana is a true display of such. Perhaps it is just because the piece is less familiar to me than Carnaval, but the brutal contrasts and adjustments in character (with no attempt on Schumann's part to reconcile this!) in Kreisleriana strike me more heavily than those in Carnaval. Kreisleriana contains a lifetime of emotions, from frenzy to bliss, demonic and haunted to ecclesiastical, even suspicious at times. In each of the eight pieces, neither beauty nor conflict can exist without the other. They are always intertwined; neither lasts long before it is interrupted by the other.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Papillons
Most everything in Papillons is a dance. All movements are in three except for number 2 and a brief part of the finale. What is interesting to me is how Schumann is able to transform characters and maintain interest while remaining in triple meter. And of course this all happens while simultaneously portraying the story in Jean-Paul Richter's novel.
The brief introduction appropriately sets the scene at the ball, followed by a dreamy waltz presented in the first movement. The boot appears in #3, but here triple meter is no longer a dance. It comes as close to a march as possible without actually being in two. I like the canonic use of the boot's theme at the end of. We return back to dance music in the fourth piece, but it is not a waltz. It sounds to me like some kind of elfin ballet instead. The music in #5 sounds like a fairytale dream, as Walt notices the maiden (whose name is Wina) for the first time. This dance is similar to a Polonaise perhaps? In #7 Vult pleads with his brother Walt to switch costumes with him. What Walt doesn't know is that Vult is planning to use his costume to win over the lovely Wina. Through Schumann's use of tone and character, I think this sense of pleading is created effectively. (The deceptive resolution in the fourth measure is particularly helpful here). Vult's charm wins his brother's consent, and they exchange costumes. As soon as Vult gets Walt's costume on, he immediately begins making fun of his brother's dancing! (#8). The music here is kind of awkward and sideways, yet still in triple meter. The brothers get into an argument, the anger of which arises in movement 9. Vult, who is a much more competent dancer than Walt, starts dancing with Wina in #10. The waltz here, grand and classy, creates an image of Vult swiftly moving Wina across the dance floor. The 11th movement is like a polonaise and trio, and it frequently changes direction, depicting all different kinds of people with all different dancing abilities. The grandfather's dance appears in the finale (reused in Carnaval, as we all so famously know), and it is at one point presented simultaneously with the previously heard waltz - very Schumannesque. At the end, I like how memories of the evening are evoked in a dream-like state.
The brief introduction appropriately sets the scene at the ball, followed by a dreamy waltz presented in the first movement. The boot appears in #3, but here triple meter is no longer a dance. It comes as close to a march as possible without actually being in two. I like the canonic use of the boot's theme at the end of. We return back to dance music in the fourth piece, but it is not a waltz. It sounds to me like some kind of elfin ballet instead. The music in #5 sounds like a fairytale dream, as Walt notices the maiden (whose name is Wina) for the first time. This dance is similar to a Polonaise perhaps? In #7 Vult pleads with his brother Walt to switch costumes with him. What Walt doesn't know is that Vult is planning to use his costume to win over the lovely Wina. Through Schumann's use of tone and character, I think this sense of pleading is created effectively. (The deceptive resolution in the fourth measure is particularly helpful here). Vult's charm wins his brother's consent, and they exchange costumes. As soon as Vult gets Walt's costume on, he immediately begins making fun of his brother's dancing! (#8). The music here is kind of awkward and sideways, yet still in triple meter. The brothers get into an argument, the anger of which arises in movement 9. Vult, who is a much more competent dancer than Walt, starts dancing with Wina in #10. The waltz here, grand and classy, creates an image of Vult swiftly moving Wina across the dance floor. The 11th movement is like a polonaise and trio, and it frequently changes direction, depicting all different kinds of people with all different dancing abilities. The grandfather's dance appears in the finale (reused in Carnaval, as we all so famously know), and it is at one point presented simultaneously with the previously heard waltz - very Schumannesque. At the end, I like how memories of the evening are evoked in a dream-like state.
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