SKU: CF.PL1056

ISBN 9781491153390. UPC: 680160910892. Transcribed by Franz Liszt.

Introduction It is true that Schubert himself is somewhat to blame for the very unsatisfactory manner in which his admirable piano pieces are treated. He was too immoderately productive, wrote incessantly, mixing insignificant with important things, grand things with mediocre work, paid no heed to criticism, and always soared on his wings. Like a bird in the air, he lived in music and sang in angelic fashion. --Franz Liszt, letter to Dr. S. Lebert (1868) Of those compositions that greatly interest me, there are only Chopin's and yours. --Franz Liszt, letter to Robert Schumann (1838) She [Clara Schumann] was astounded at hearing me. Her compositions are really very remarkable, especially for a woman. There is a hundred times more creativity and real feeling in them than in all the past and present fantasias by Thalberg. --Franz Liszt, letter to Marie d'Agoult (1838) Chretien Urhan (1790-1845) was a Belgian-born violinist, organist and composer who flourished in the musical life of Paris in the early nineteenth century. According to various accounts, he was deeply religious, harshly ascetic and wildly eccentric, though revered by many important and influential members of the Parisian musical community. Regrettably, history has forgotten Urhan's many musical achievements, the most important of which was arguably his pioneering work in promoting the music of Franz Schubert. He devoted much of his energies to championing Schubert's music, which at the time was unknown outside of Vienna. Undoubtedly, Urhan was responsible for stimulating this enthusiasm in Franz Liszt; Liszt regularly heard Urhan's organ playing in the St.-Vincent-de-Paul church in Paris, and the two became personal acquaintances. At eighteen years of age, Liszt was on the verge of establishing himself as the foremost pianist in Europe, and this awakening to Schubert's music would prove to be a profound experience. Liszt's first travels outside of his native provincial Hungary were to Vienna in 1821-1823, where his father enrolled him in studies with Carl Czerny (piano) and Antonio Salieri (music theory). Both men had important involvements with Schubert; Czerny (like Urhan) as performer and advocate of Schubert's music and Salieri as his theory and composition teacher from 1813-1817. Curiously, Liszt and Schubert never met personally, despite their geographical proximity in Vienna during these years. Inevitably, legends later arose that the two had been personal acquaintances, although Liszt would dismiss these as fallacious: I never knew Schubert personally, he was once quoted as saying. Liszt's initial exposure to Schubert's music was the Lieder, what Urhan prized most of all. He accompanied the tenor Benedict Randhartinger in numerous performances of Schubert's Lieder and then, perhaps realizing that he could benefit the composer more on his own terms, transcribed a number of the Lieder for piano solo. Many of these transcriptions he would perform himself on concert tour during the so-called Glanzzeit, or time of splendor from 1839-1847. This publicity did much to promote reception of Schubert's music throughout Europe. Once Liszt retired from the concert stage and settled in Weimar as a conductor in the 1840s, he continued to perform Schubert's orchestral music, his Symphony No. 9 being a particular favorite, and is credited with giving the world premiere performance of Schubert's opera Alfonso und Estrella in 1854. At this time, he contemplated writing a biography of the composer, which regrettably remained uncompleted. Liszt's devotion to Schubert would never waver. Liszt's relationship with Robert and Clara Schumann was far different and far more complicated; by contrast, they were all personal acquaintances. What began as a relationship of mutual respect and admiration soon deteriorated into one of jealousy and hostility, particularly on the Schumann's part. Liszt's initial contact with Robert's music happened long before they had met personally, when Liszt published an analysis of Schumann's piano music for the Gazette musicale in 1837, a gesture that earned Robert's deep appreciation. In the following year Clara met Liszt during a concert tour in Vienna and presented him with more of Schumann's piano music. Clara and her father Friedrich Wieck, who accompanied Clara on her concert tours, were quite taken by Liszt: We have heard Liszt. He can be compared to no other player...he arouses fright and astonishment. His appearance at the piano is indescribable. He is an original...he is absorbed by the piano. Liszt, too, was impressed with Clara--at first the energy, intelligence and accuracy of her piano playing and later her compositions--to the extent that he dedicated to her the 1838 version of his Etudes d'execution transcendante d'apres Paganini. Liszt had a closer personal relationship with Clara than with Robert until the two men finally met in 1840. Schumann was astounded by Liszt's piano playing. He wrote to Clara that Liszt had played like a god and had inspired indescribable furor of applause. His review of Liszt even included a heroic personification with Napoleon. In Leipzig, Schumann was deeply impressed with Liszt's interpretations of his Noveletten, Op. 21 and Fantasy in C Major, Op. 17 (dedicated to Liszt), enthusiastically observing that, I feel as if I had known you twenty years. Yet a variety of events followed that diminished Liszt's glory in the eyes of the Schumanns. They became critical of the cult-like atmosphere that arose around his recitals, or Lisztomania as it came to be called; conceivably, this could be attributed to professional jealousy. Clara, in particular, came to loathe Liszt, noting in a letter to Joseph Joachim, I despise Liszt from the depths of my soul. She recorded a stunning diary entry a day after Liszt's death, in which she noted, He was an eminent keyboard virtuoso, but a dangerous example for the young...As a composer he was terrible. By contrast, Liszt did not share in these negative sentiments; no evidence suggests that he had any ill-regard for the Schumanns. In Weimar, he did much to promote Schumann's music, conducting performances of his Scenes from Faust and Manfred, during a time in which few orchestras expressed interest, and premiered his opera Genoveva. He later arranged a benefit concert for Clara following Robert's death, featuring Clara as soloist in Robert's Piano Concerto, an event that must have been exhilarating to witness. Regardless, her opinion of him would never change, despite his repeated gestures of courtesy and respect. Liszt's relationship with Schubert was a spiritual one, with music being the one and only link between the two men. That with the Schumanns was personal, with music influenced by a hero worship that would aggravate the relationship over time. Nonetheless, Liszt would remain devoted to and enthusiastic for the music and achievements of these composers. He would be a vital force in disseminating their music to a wider audience, as he would be with many other composers throughout his career. His primary means for accomplishing this was the piano transcription. Liszt and the Transcription Transcription versus Paraphrase Transcription and paraphrase were popular terms in nineteenth-century music, although certainly not unique to this period. Musicians understood that there were clear distinctions between these two terms, but as is often the case these distinctions could be blurred. Transcription, literally writing over, entails reworking or adapting a piece of music for a performance medium different from that of its original; arrangement is a possible synonym. Adapting is a key part of this process, for the success of a transcription relies on the transcriber's ability to adapt the piece to the different medium. As a result, the pre-existing material is generally kept intact, recognizable and intelligible; it is strict, literal, objective. Contextual meaning is maintained in the process, as are elements of style and form. Paraphrase, by contrast, implies restating something in a different manner, as in a rewording of a document for reasons of clarity. In nineteenth-century music, paraphrasing indicated elaborating a piece for purposes of expressive virtuosity, often as a vehicle for showmanship. Variation is an important element, for the source material may be varied as much as the paraphraser's imagination will allow; its purpose is metamorphosis. Transcription is adapting and arranging; paraphrasing is transforming and reworking. Transcription preserves the style of the original; paraphrase absorbs the original into a different style. Transcription highlights the original composer; paraphrase highlights the paraphraser. Approximately half of Liszt's compositional output falls under the category of transcription and paraphrase; it is noteworthy that he never used the term arrangement. Much of his early compositional activities were transcriptions and paraphrases of works of other composers, such as the symphonies of Beethoven and Berlioz, vocal music by Schubert, and operas by Donizetti and Bellini. It is conceivable that he focused so intently on work of this nature early in his career as a means to perfect his compositional technique, although transcription and paraphrase continued well after the technique had been mastered; this might explain why he drastically revised and rewrote many of his original compositions from the 1830s (such as the Transcendental Etudes and Paganini Etudes) in the 1850s. Charles Rosen, a sympathetic interpreter of Liszt's piano works, observes, The new revisions of the Transcendental Etudes are not revisions but concert paraphrases of the old, and their art lies in the technique of transformation. The Paganini etudes are piano transcriptions of violin etudes, and the Transcendental Etudes are piano transcriptions of piano etudes. The principles are the same. He concludes by noting, Paraphrase has shaded off into composition...Composition and paraphrase were not identical for him, but they were so closely interwoven that separation is impossible. The significance of transcription and paraphrase for Liszt the composer cannot be overstated, and the mutual influence of each needs to be better understood. Undoubtedly, Liszt the composer as we know him today would be far different had he not devoted so much of his career to transcribing and paraphrasing the music of others. He was perhaps one of the first composers to contend that transcription and paraphrase could be genuine art forms on equal par with original pieces; he even claimed to be the first to use these two terms to describe these classes of arrangements. Despite the success that Liszt achieved with this type of work, others viewed it with circumspection and criticism. Robert Schumann, although deeply impressed with Liszt's keyboard virtuosity, was harsh in his criticisms of the transcriptions. Schumann interpreted them as indicators that Liszt's virtuosity had hindered his compositional development and suggested that Liszt transcribed the music of others to compensate for his own compositional deficiencies. Nonetheless, Liszt's piano transcriptions, what he sometimes called partitions de piano (or piano scores), were instrumental in promoting composers whose music was unknown at the time or inaccessible in areas outside of major European capitals, areas that Liszt willingly toured during his Glanzzeit. To this end, the transcriptions had to be literal arrangements for the piano; a Beethoven symphony could not be introduced to an unknowing audience if its music had been subjected to imaginative elaborations and variations. The same would be true of the 1833 transcription of Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique (composed only three years earlier), the astonishingly novel content of which would necessitate a literal and intelligible rendering. Opera, usually more popular and accessible for the general public, was a different matter, and in this realm Liszt could paraphrase the original and manipulate it as his imagination would allow without jeopardizing its reception; hence, the paraphrases on the operas of Bellini, Donizetti, Mozart, Meyerbeer and Verdi. Reminiscence was another term coined by Liszt for the opera paraphrases, as if the composer were reminiscing at the keyboard following a memorable evening at the opera. Illustration (reserved on two occasions for Meyerbeer) and fantasy were additional terms. The operas of Wagner were exceptions. His music was less suited to paraphrase due to its general lack of familiarity at the time. Transcription of Wagner's music was thus obligatory, as it was of Beethoven's and Berlioz's music; perhaps the composer himself insisted on this approach. Liszt's Lieder Transcriptions Liszt's initial encounters with Schubert's music, as mentioned previously, were with the Lieder. His first transcription of a Schubert Lied was Die Rose in 1833, followed by Lob der Tranen in 1837. Thirty-nine additional transcriptions appeared at a rapid pace over the following three years, and in 1846, the Schubert Lieder transcriptions would conclude, by which point he had completed fifty-eight, the most of any composer. Critical response to these transcriptions was highly favorable--aside from the view held by Schumann--particularly when Liszt himself played these pieces in concert. Some were published immediately by Anton Diabelli, famous for the theme that inspired Beethoven's variations. Others were published by the Viennese publisher Tobias Haslinger (one of Beethoven's and Schubert's publishers in the 1820s), who sold his reserves so quickly that he would repeatedly plead for more. However, Liszt's enthusiasm for work of this nature soon became exhausted, as he noted in a letter of 1839 to the publisher Breitkopf und Hartel: That good Haslinger overwhelms me with Schubert. I have just sent him twenty-four new songs (Schwanengesang and Winterreise), and for the moment I am rather tired of this work. Haslinger was justified in his demands, for the Schubert transcriptions were received with great enthusiasm. One Gottfried Wilhelm Fink, then editor of the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, observed of these transcriptions: Nothing in recent memory has caused such sensation and enjoyment in both pianists and audiences as these arrangements...The demand for them has in no way been satisfied; and it will not be until these arrangements are seen on pianos everywhere. They have indeed made quite a splash. Eduard Hanslick, never a sympathetic critic of Liszt's music, acknowledged thirty years after the fact that, Liszt's transcriptions of Schubert Lieder were epoch-making. There was hardly a concert in which Liszt did not have to play one or two of them--even when they were not listed on the program. These transcriptions quickly became some of his most sough-after pieces, despite their extreme technical demands. Leading pianists of the day, such as Clara Wieck and Sigismond Thalberg, incorporated them into their concert programs immediately upon publication. Moreover, the transcriptions would serve as inspirations for other composers, such as Stephen Heller, Cesar Franck and later Leopold Godowsky, all of whom produced their own transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder. Liszt would transcribe the Lieder of other composers as well, including those by Mendelssohn, Chopin, Anton Rubinstein and even himself. Robert Schumann, of course, would not be ignored. The first transcription of a Schumann Lied was the celebrated Widmung from Myrten in 1848, the only Schumann transcription that Liszt completed during the composer's lifetime. (Regrettably, there is no evidence of Schumann's regard of this transcription, or even if he was aware of it.) From the years 1848-1881, Liszt transcribed twelve of Robert Schumann's Lieder (including one orchestral Lied) and three of Clara (one from each of her three published Lieder cycles); he would transcribe no other works of these two composers. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, contrary to those of Schubert, are literal arrangements, posing, in general, far fewer demands on the pianist's technique. They are comparatively less imaginative in their treatment of the original material. Additionally, they seem to have been less valued in their day than the Schubert transcriptions, and it is noteworthy that none of the Schumann transcriptions bear dedications, as most of the Schubert transcriptions do. The greatest challenge posed by Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the composer or the nature of the transcription, was to combine the vocal and piano parts of the original such that the character of each would be preserved, a challenge unique to this form of transcription. Each part had to be intact and aurally recognizable, the vocal line in particular. Complications could be manifold in a Lied that featured dissimilar parts, such as Schubert's Auf dem Wasser zu singen, whose piano accompaniment depicts the rocking of the boat on the shimmering waves while the vocal line reflects on the passing of time. Similar complications would be encountered in Gretchen am Spinnrade, in which the ubiquitous sixteenth-note pattern in the piano's right hand epitomizes the ever-turning spinning wheel over which the soprano voice expresses feelings of longing and heartache. The resulting transcriptions for solo piano would place exceptional demands on the pianist. The complications would be far less imposing in instances in which voice and piano were less differentiated, as in many of Schumann's Lieder that Liszt transcribed. The piano parts in these Lieder are true accompaniments for the voice, providing harmonic foundation and rhythmic support by doubling the vocal line throughout. The transcriptions, thus, are strict and literal, with far fewer demands on both pianist and transcriber. In all of Liszt's Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the way in which the two parts are combined, the melody (i.e. the vocal line) is invariably the focal point; the melody should sing on the piano, as if it were the voice. The piano part, although integral to contributing to the character of the music, is designed to function as accompaniment. A singing melody was a crucial objective in nineteenth-century piano performance, which in part might explain the zeal in transcribing and paraphrasing vocal music for the piano. Friedrich Wieck, father and teacher of Clara Schumann, stressed this point repeatedly in his 1853 treatise Clavier und Gesang (Piano and Song): When I speak in general of singing, I refer to that species of singing which is a form of beauty, and which is a foundation for the most refined and most perfect interpretation of music; and, above all things, I consider the culture of beautiful tones the basis for the finest possible touch on the piano. In many respects, the piano and singing should explain and supplement each other. They should mutually assist in expressing the sublime and the noble, in forms of unclouded beauty. Much of Liszt's piano music should be interpreted with this concept in mind, the Lieder transcriptions and opera paraphrases, in particular. To this end, Liszt provided numerous written instructions to the performer to emphasize the vocal line in performance, with Italian directives such as un poco marcato il canto, accentuato assai il canto and ben pronunziato il canto. Repeated indications of cantando,singend and espressivo il canto stress the significance of the singing tone. As an additional means of achieving this and providing the performer with access to the poetry, Liszt insisted, at what must have been a publishing novelty at the time, on printing the words of the Lied in the music itself. Haslinger, seemingly oblivious to Liszt's intent, initially printed the poems of the early Schubert transcriptions separately inside the front covers. Liszt argued that the transcriptions must be reprinted with the words underlying the notes, exactly as Schubert had done, a request that was honored by printing the words above the right-hand staff. Liszt also incorporated a visual scheme for distinguishing voice and accompaniment, influenced perhaps by Chopin, by notating the accompaniment in cue size. His transcription of Robert Schumann's Fruhlings Ankunft features the vocal line in normal size, the piano accompaniment in reduced size, an unmistakable guide in a busy texture as to which part should be emphasized: Example 1. Schumann-Liszt Fruhlings Ankunft, mm. 1-2. The same practice may be found in the transcription of Schumann's An die Turen will ich schleichen. In this piece, the performer must read three staves, in which the baritone line in the central staff is to be shared between the two hands based on the stem direction of the notes: Example 2. Schumann-Liszt An die Turen will ich schleichen, mm. 1-5. This notational practice is extremely beneficial in this instance, given the challenge of reading three staves and the manner in which the vocal line is performed by the two hands. Curiously, Liszt did not use this practice in other transcriptions. Approaches in Lieder Transcription Liszt adopted a variety of approaches in his Lieder transcriptions, based on the nature of the source material, the ways in which the vocal and piano parts could be combined and the ways in which the vocal part could sing. One approach, common with strophic Lieder, in which the vocal line would be identical in each verse, was to vary the register of the vocal part. The transcription of Lob der Tranen, for example, incorporates three of the four verses of the original Lied, with the register of the vocal line ascending one octave with each verse (from low to high), as if three different voices were participating. By the conclusion, the music encompasses the entire range of Liszt's keyboard to produce a stunning climactic effect, and the variety of register of the vocal line provides a welcome textural variety in the absence of the words. The three verses of the transcription of Auf dem Wasser zu singen follow the same approach, in which the vocal line ascends from the tenor, to the alto and to the soprano registers with each verse. Fruhlingsglaube adopts the opposite approach, in which the vocal line descends from soprano in verse 1 to tenor in verse 2, with the second part of verse 2 again resuming the soprano register; this is also the case in Das Wandern from Mullerlieder. Gretchen am Spinnrade posed a unique problem. Since the poem's narrator is female, and the poem represents an expression of her longing for her lover Faust, variation of the vocal line's register, strictly speaking, would have been impractical. For this reason, the vocal line remains in its original register throughout, relentlessly colliding with the sixteenth-note pattern of the accompaniment. One exception may be found in the fifth and final verse in mm. 93-112, at which point the vocal line is notated in a higher register and doubled in octaves. This sudden textural change, one that is readily audible, was a strategic means to underscore Gretchen's mounting anxiety (My bosom urges itself toward him. Ah, might I grasp and hold him! And kiss him as I would wish, at his kisses I should die!). The transcription, thus, becomes a vehicle for maximizing the emotional content of the poem, an exceptional undertaking with the general intent of a transcription. Registral variation of the vocal part also plays a crucial role in the transcription of Erlkonig. Goethe's poem depicts the death of a child who is apprehended by a supernatural Erlking, and Schubert, recognizing the dramatic nature of the poem, carefully depicted the characters (father, son and Erlking) through unique vocal writing and accompaniment patterns: the Lied is a dramatic entity. Liszt, in turn, followed Schubert's characterization in this literal transcription, yet took it an additional step by placing the register of the father's vocal line in the baritone range, that of the son in the soprano range and that of the Erlking in the highest register, options that would not have been available in the version for voice and piano. Additionally, Liszt labeled each appearance of each character in the score, a means for guiding the performer in interpreting the dramatic qualities of the Lied. As a result, the drama and energy of the poem are enhanced in this transcription; as with Gretchen am Spinnrade, the transcriber has maximized the content of the original. Elaboration may be found in certain Lieder transcriptions that expand the performance to a level of virtuosity not found in the original; in such cases, the transcription approximates the paraphrase. Schubert's Du bist die Ruh, a paradigm of musical simplicity, features an uncomplicated piano accompaniment that is virtually identical in each verse. In Liszt's transcription, the material is subjected to a highly virtuosic treatment that far exceeds the original, including a demanding passage for the left hand alone in the opening measures and unique textural writing in each verse. The piece is a transcription in virtuosity; its art, as Rosen noted, lies in the technique of transformation. Elaboration may entail an expansion of the musical form, as in the extensive introduction to Die Forelle and a virtuosic middle section (mm. 63-85), both of which are not in the original. Also unique to this transcription are two cadenzas that Liszt composed in response to the poetic content. The first, in m. 93 on the words und eh ich es gedacht (and before I could guess it), features a twisted chromatic passage that prolongs and thereby heightens the listener's suspense as to the fate of the trout (which is ultimately caught). The second, in m. 108 on the words Betrogne an (and my blood boiled as I saw the betrayed one), features a rush of diminished-seventh arpeggios in both hands, epitomizing the poet's rage at the fisherman for catching the trout. Less frequent are instances in which the length of the original Lied was shortened in the transcription, a tendency that may be found with certain strophic Lieder (e.g., Der Leiermann, Wasserflut and Das Wandern). Another transcription that demonstrates Liszt's readiness to modify the original in the interests of the poetic content is Standchen, the seventh transcription from Schubert's Schwanengesang. Adapted from Act II of Shakespeare's Cymbeline, the poem represents the repeated beckoning of a man to his lover. Liszt transformed the Lied into a miniature drama by transcribing the vocal line of the first verse in the soprano register, that of the second verse in the baritone register, in effect, creating a dialogue between the two lovers. In mm. 71-102, the dialogue becomes a canon, with one voice trailing the other like an echo (as labeled in the score) at the distance of a beat. As in other instances, the transcription resembles the paraphrase, and it is perhaps for this reason that Liszt provided an ossia version that is more in the nature of a literal transcription. The ossia version, six measures shorter than Schubert's original, is less demanding technically than the original transcription, thus representing an ossia of transcription and an ossia of piano technique. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, in general, display a less imaginative treatment of the source material. Elaborations are less frequently encountered, and virtuosity is more restricted, as if the passage of time had somewhat tamed the composer's approach to transcriptions; alternatively, Liszt was eager to distance himself from the fierce virtuosity of his early years. In most instances, these transcriptions are literal arrangements of the source material, with the vocal line in its original form combined with the accompaniment, which often doubles the vocal line in the original Lied. Widmung, the first of the Schumann transcriptions, is one exception in the way it recalls the virtuosity of the Schubert transcriptions of the 1830s. Particularly striking is the closing section (mm. 58-73), in which material of the opening verse (right hand) is combined with the triplet quarter notes (left hand) from the second section of the Lied (mm. 32-43), as if the transcriber were attempting to reconcile the different material of these two sections. Fruhlingsnacht resembles a paraphrase by presenting each of the two verses in differing registers (alto for verse 1, mm. 3-19, and soprano for verse 2, mm. 20-31) and by concluding with a virtuosic section that considerably extends the length of the original Lied. The original tonalities of the Lieder were generally retained in the transcriptions, showing that the tonality was an important part of the transcription process. The infrequent instances of transposition were done for specific reasons. In 1861, Liszt transcribed two of Schumann's Lieder, one from Op. 36 (An den Sonnenschein), another from Op. 27 (Dem roten Roslein), and merged these two pieces in the collection 2 Lieder; they share only the common tonality of A major. His choice for combining these two Lieder remains unknown, but he clearly recognized that some tonal variety would be needed, for which reason Dem roten Roslein was transposed to C>= major. The collection features An den Sonnenschein in A major (with a transition to the new tonality), followed by Dem roten Roslein in C>= major (without a change of key signature), and concluding with a reprise of An den Sonnenschein in A major. A three-part form was thus established with tonal variety provided by keys in third relations (A-C>=-A); in effect, two of Schumann's Lieder were transcribed into an archetypal song without words. In other instances, Liszt treated tonality and tonal organization as important structural ingredients, particularly in the transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder cycles, i.e. Schwanengesang, Winterreise a...

SKU: DZ.DZ-4287

ISBN 9782898522048.

Antônio Francisco Braga (1868-1945) belongs to the generation of Brazilian composers of the first republican period, aesthetically tied to romanticism, alongside Henrique Oswald (1852-1931), Leopoldo Miguez (1850-1902), Glauco Velásquez (1884-1914), and Barrozo Neto (1881-1941). Born in Rio de Janeiro, on April 15th, 1868, he began his musical studies at the Asilo dos Meninos Desvalidos, in 1876. In 1883, he enrolled at the Imperial Conservatório de Música where he studied harmony and counterpoint with Carlos de Mesquita – a former student of César Franck, Durand, and Massenet – and clarinet with Antônio Luís de Moura. Braga's first compositions date from this period: Sonho de Dante (1885), Dolce far niente (1886), the first Valse Romantique for piano (1886), among others.
In 1887, he premiered his first symphonic work, Fantasia-Abertura. In 1890, being one of the finalists in a competition to choose the new Brazilian national anthem, Braga was awarded a scholarship to study in Europe, where he took classes with Jules Massenet at the Paris Conservatory. During this period, he wrote some of his most important symphonic works, Paysage, Cauchemar, Episódio Sinfônico, and Marabá (which was performed by Richard Strauss and the Vienna Philharmonic in 1920, in Brazil). His opera Jupyra is considered one of the greatest Brazilian compositions of that genre.
Back in Brazil, he was appointed professor of counterpoint, fugue, and composition at the Instituto Nacional de Música, in 1902. There, some of the finest Brazilian composers studied with him, like Glauco Velásquez and Lorenzo Fernândez.
Braga wrote operas, symphonic works, songs, sacred music, two Masses, music for piano, different chamber formations, band, and choir. He is the author of many patriotic hymns, the most popular of which is Hino à Bandeira (with lyrics by Olavo Bilac). He explored Brazilian nationalist elements in some of his works, as in Variações sobre um Tema Brasileiro and in the Trio for violin, cello and piano, whose third movement is based on a lundu (a musical genre and dance of Afro-Brazilian origin).
In addition to being a composer, Braga was one of the most active conductors of his time, having been ahead of three orchestras in Rio de Janeiro: Instituto Nacional de Música, Sociedade de Concertos Sinfônicos, and Theatro Municipal. Braga conducted the Brazilian premiere of major symphonic works such as La Mer (Debussy), Pacific 231 (Honegger) besides other numerous Brazilian compositions.
In 1938, he retired from Instituto Nacional de Música. He passed away on March 14th, 1945, in Rio de Janeiro.
Unfortunately, Francisco Braga never wrote for the guitar. However, over a century ago his music had already been incorporated to its repertoire. According to information found in newspapers of the time, Spanish guitarist Josefina Robledo included transcriptions of pieces by Braga in her programs when she performed in Brazil: Gavota e Minuete (from the melodrama Contratador de Diamantes), in 1919, in São Paulo, and the waltz-caprice Corrupio, in 1921, in Rio de Janeiro.
The piano score of Madrigal Pavane was dedicated to Alexina Leitão and published by Casa Vieira Machado, in 1901. According to the composer’s catalogue, there are two other versions of this piece: strings orchestra (1901) and quartet (which is still in manuscript). Dedicated to Braga’s childhood friend José de Souza Rocha, Timburibá (the name of a Brazilian tree) is a tango for piano from 1886, published by Narciso & Arthur Napoleão.

Antônio Francisco Braga (1868-1945) appartient à la génération des compositeurs brésiliens de la première période républicaine, esthétiquement liés au romantisme, aux côtés de Henrique Oswald (1852-1931), Leopoldo Miguez (1850-1902), Glauco Velásquez (1884-1914) , et Barrozo Neto (1881-1941). Né à Rio de Janeiro, le 15 avril 1868, il commence ses études musicales à l'Asilo dos Meninos Desvalidos, en 1876. En 1883, il s'inscrit au Imperial Conservatório de Música où il étudie l'harmonie et le contrepoint avec Carlos de Mesquita – ancien élève de César Franck, Durand et Massenet – et clarinette avec Antônio Luís de Moura. De cette période datent les premières compositions de Braga : « Sonho de Dante » (1885), « Dolce far niente » (1886), la première « Valse Romantique » pour piano (1886), entre autres.
En 1887, il crée sa première œuvre symphonique, « Fantasia-Abertura ». En 1890, étant l'un des finalistes d'un concours pour choisir le nouvel hymne national brésilien, Braga obtient une bourse pour étudier en Europe, où il suit les cours de Jules Massenet au Conservatoire de Paris. Durant cette période, il écrit certaines de ses œuvres symphoniques les plus importantes, « Paysage », « Cauchemar », « Episódio Sinfônico » et « Marabá » (interprétée par Richard Strauss et la Philharmonie de Vienne en 1920, au Brésil). Son opéra « Jupyra » est considéré comme l'une des plus grandes compositions brésiliennes de ce genre.
De retour au Brésil, il fut nommé professeur de contrepoint, de fugue et de composition à l'Instituto Nacional de Música, en 1902. Là, certains des meilleurs compositeurs brésiliens étudièrent avec lui, comme Glauco Velásquez et Lorenzo Fernândez.
Braga a écrit des opéras, des œuvres symphoniques, des chansons, de la musique sacrée, deux messes, de la musique pour piano, différentes formations de chambre, un orchestre et une chorale. Il est l'auteur de nombreux hymnes patriotiques, dont le plus populaire est « Hino à Bandeira » (avec des paroles d'Olavo Bilac). Il a exploré des éléments nationalistes brésiliens dans certaines de ses œuvres, comme dans « Variações sobre um Tema Brasileiro » et dans le Trio pour violon, violoncelle et piano, dont le troisième mouvement est basé sur un « lundu » (un genre musical et une danse afro-américaine). Origine brésilienne).
En plus d'être compositeur, Braga a été l'un des chefs d'orchestre les plus actifs de son époque, ayant dirigé trois orchestres à Rio de Janeiro : « Instituto Nacional de Música », « Sociedade de Concertos Sinfônicos » et « Theatro Municipal ». Braga a dirigé la première brésilienne d'œuvres symphoniques majeures telles que « La Mer » (Debussy), « Pacific 231 » (Honegger) ainsi que de nombreuses autres compositions brésiliennes.
En 1938, il prend sa retraite de l'Instituto Nacional de Música. Il est décédé le 14 mars 1945 à Rio de Janeiro.
Malheureusement, Francisco Braga n’a jamais écrit pour la guitare. Cependant, il y a plus d'un siècle, sa musique était déjà incorporée à son répertoire. Selon des informations trouvées dans les journaux de l'époque, la guitariste espagnole Josefina Robledo incluait des transcriptions de pièces de Braga dans ses programmes lorsqu'elle se produisait au Brésil : « Gavota e Minuete » (du mélodrame « Contratador de Diamantes »), en 1919, à São Paulo, et la valse-caprice « Corrupio », en 1921, à Rio de Janeiro.
La partition pour piano de « Madrigal Pavane » a été dédiée à Alexina Leitão et publiée par « Casa Vieira Machado », en 1901. Selon le catalogue du compositeur, il existe deux autres versions de cette pièce : orchestre à cordes (1901) et quatuor (qui est encore manuscrit). Dédié à José de Souza Rocha, ami d'enfance de Braga, « Timburibá » (nom d'un arbre brésilien) est un tango pour piano de 1886, publié par « Narciso & Arthur Napoleão ».
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SKU: PR.165001000

ISBN 9781491129241. UPC: 680160669776. 9 x 12 inches.

Commissioned for a consortium of high school and college bands in the north Dallas region, FOR THEMYSTIC HARMONY is a 10-minute inspirational work in homage to Norwood and Elizabeth Dixon,patrons of the Fort Worth Symphony and the Van Cliburn Competition. Welcher draws melodic flavorfrom five American hymns, spirituals, and folk tunes of the 19th century. The last of these sources toappear is the hymn tune For the Beauty of the Earth, whose third stanza is the quatrain: “For the joy of earand eye, For the heart and mind’s delight, For the mystic harmony, Linking sense to sound and sight,”giving rise to the work’s title.
This work, commissioned for a consortium of high school bands in the north Dallas area, is my fifteenth maturework for wind ensemble (not counting transcriptions). When I asked Todd Dixon, the band director whospearheaded this project, what kind of a work he most wanted, he first said “something that’s basically slow,” butwanted to leave the details to me. During a long subsequent conversation, he mentioned that his grandparents,Norwood and Elizabeth Dixon, were prime supporters of the Fort Worth Symphony, going so far as to purchase anumber of high quality instruments for that orchestra. This intrigued me, so I asked more about his grandparentsand was provided an 80-page biographical sketch. Reading that article, including a long section about theirdevotion to supporting a young man through the rigors of the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition fora number of years, moved me very much. Norwood and Elizabeth Dixon weren’t just supporters of the arts; theywere passionate lovers of music and musicians. I determined to make this work a testament to that love, and tothe religious faith that sustained them both. The idea of using extant hymns was also suggested by Todd Dixon,and this 10-minute work is the result.I have employed existing melodies in several works, delving into certain kinds of religious music more than a fewtimes. In seeking new sounds, new ways of harmonizing old tunes, and the contrapuntal overlaying of one tunewith another, I was able to make works like ZION (using 19th-century Revivalist hymns) and LABORING SONGS(using Shaker melodies) reflect the spirit of the composers who created these melodies, without sounding likepastiches or medleys. I determined to do the same with this new work, with the added problem of employingmelodies that were more familiar. I chose five tunes from the 19th century: hymns, spirituals, and folk-tunes.Some of these are known by differing titles, but they all appear in hymnals of various Christian denominations(with various titles and texts). My idea was to employ the tunes without altering their notes, instead using aconstantly modulating sense of harmony — sometimes leading to polytonal harmonizations of what are normallysimple four-chord hymns.The work begins and ends with a repeated chime on the note C: a reminder of steeples, white clapboard churchesin the country, and small church organs. Beginning with a Mixolydian folk tune of Caribbean origin presentedtwice with layered entrances, the work starts with a feeling of mystery and gentle sorrow. It proceeds, after along transition, into a second hymn that is sometimes connected to the sea (hence the sensation of water andwaves throughout it). This tune, by John B. Dykes (1823-1876), is a bit more chromatic and “shifty” than mosthymn-tunes, so I chose to play with the constant sensation of modulation even more than the original does. Atthe climax, the familiar spiritual “Were you there?” takes over, with a double-time polytonal feeling propelling itforward at “Sometimes it causes me to tremble.”Trumpets in counterpoint raise the temperature, and the tempo as well, leading the music into a third tune (ofunknown provenance, though it appears with different texts in various hymnals) that is presented in a sprightlymanner. Bassoons introduce the melody, but it is quickly taken up by other instruments over three “verses,”constantly growing in orchestration and volume. A mysterious second tune, unrelated to this one, interrupts it inall three verses, sending the melody into unknown regions.The final melody is “For the Beauty of the Earth.” This tune by Conrad Kocher (1786-1872) is commonly sung atThanksgiving — the perfect choice to end this work celebrating two people known for their generosity.Keeping the sense of constant modulation that has been present throughout, I chose to present this hymn in threegrowing verses, but with a twist: every four bars, the “key” of the hymn seems to shift — until the “Lord of all, toThee we praise” melody bursts out in a surprising compound meter. This, as it turns out, was the “mystery tune”heard earlier in the piece. After an Ivesian, almost polytonal climax, the Coda begins over a long B( pedal. At first,it seems to be a restatement of the first two phrases of “For the Beauty” with long spaces between them, but it soonchanges to a series of “Amen” cadences, widely separated by range and color. These, too, do not conform to anykey, but instead overlay each other in ways that are unpredictable but strangely comforting.The third verse of “For the Beauty of the Earth” contains this quatrain:“For the joy of ear and eye, –For the heart and mind’s delightFor the mystic harmonyLinking sense to sound and sight”and it was from this poetry that I drew the title for the present work. It is my hope that audiences and performerswill find within it a sense of grace: more than a little familiar, but also quite new and unexpected.

SKU: BT.DHP-1216326-070

ISBN 9789043162067. English-German-French-Dutch.

1. Emerald Isle, in this part, the musical spotlight focuses in on the green island of Ireland and its great wealth of traditional folk music. The piece opens with the air ‘My Lodging Is on the Cold Ground’, also known under the title ‘Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms’ (bars 5-24). Next, we hear another well-known air ‘The Minstrel Boy’ (bars 29-44). Finally, the air ‘The Groves of Blarney’, possibly better known as ‘The Last Rose of Summer’ (bars 53-68) is heard. Each air is heralded by a short introduction and brought to an end by a short conclusion. 2. Old Kentucky Memories, following an introduction of 14 bars all attention is claimed by the song ‘My Old Kentucky Home’. As the piece goes on, snippets of memories emerge, fleetingly, surfacing fast, but quickly disappearing again: this is musically featured by way of small motifs and themes from other songs. These can be heard briefly, and then they disappear, musing on Old Kentucky until the introduction returns to end the piece. 3. Uppland, is a province in Sweden that had a rich folk music culture, like the whole of Sweden, that boasts many songs and dances. A notable amount of these songs and dances have been composed in minor keys, three of which feature in this part. First, we hear ‘Svensk folkvisa’(bars 1-38), followed by the famous ‘Värmlandsvisan’ (bars 39-67) and then brought to an end by ‘Vexelsang’ (bars 68-end). 4. Ratatouille, in this part, no folk songs of just one country or one province are featured. This piece is a mishmash (or ratatouille), a hotchpotch of three folk songs with no significant relation at all. In succession, we hear a song from Russia (bars 1-30), one from Japan (bars 31-58) and one from Australia (bars 59-end). The composer of the Russian song titled ‘The Nightingale’ is Alexander Alyabyev (1787 1851), but the composers of the Japanese song titled ‘Sakura’ and the Australian ‘Waltzing Matilda’ are unknown.

1. Emerald Isle, in dit deel zijn de muzikale schijnwerpers gericht op het groene eiland Ierland, op de grote rijkdom aan traditionele volksmuziek. Het werkje opent met de air ‘My Lodging Is on the Cold Ground’, ook bekend onder de titel ‘Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms’ (maat 5-24). Daarna volgt de bekende air ‘The Minstrel Boy’ (maat 29-44). En ten slotte horen we nog de air ‘The Groves of Blarney’, misschien beter bekend als ‘The Last Rose of Summer’ (maat 53-68). Elke air wordt voorafgegaan door een korte inleiding en beëindigd met een korte afsluiting. 2. Old Kentucky Memories, na een inleiding van 14 maten (deels ook als afsluiting van dit deel gebruikt) wordt alle aandacht opgeëist door de song ‘My Old Kentucky Home’. Al gauw doemen er echter flarden van herinneringen op, vluchtig, snel opkomend, maar ook weer snel verdwijnend: dit krijgt muzikaal gestalte door middel van motiefjes en thema’s uit andere songs. Deze zijn even hoorbaar en dan weer vlug verdwenen... Mijmeren over Old Kentucky dus... 3. Uppland, is een provincie in Zweden met een rijke muziekcultuur, zoals heel Zweden trouwens ruim bedeeld is met volksliederen en volksdansen. Opvallend veel van deze liederen en dansen zijn gecomponeerd in mineurtoonsoorten. Dit is ook het geval met de drie voor dit deel uitgekozen songs: als eerste ‘Svensk folkvisa’(maat 1-38), gevolgd door het bekende ‘Värmlandsvisan’ (maat 39-67) en tot besluit ‘Vexelsang’ (maat 68-slot). 4. Ratatouille, in dit deel worden geen volksliedjes van één land of één provincie belicht. Dit werkje is een ‘ratjetoe’ (ratatouille), een allegaartje van drie folksongs die onderling geen enkel verband met elkaar hebben: de enige overeenkomst is dat ze alle drie als volksmuziek bestempeld kunnen worden. Achtereenvolgens klinkt er een lied uit Rusland (maat 1-30), uit Japan (maat 31-58) en uit Australië (maat 59-slot). Van het Russische lied met de titel ‘De nachtegaal’ is de componist bekend: dat is Aleksandr Aljabjev (1787 1851). Van het Japanse lied ‘Sakura’ en de Australische song ‘Waltzing Matilda’ kennen we niet de componist niet.

1. Emerald Isle, in diesem Abschnitt richtet sich die musikalische Aufmerksamkeit auf die grüne Insel Irland mit ihrem großen Reichtum an traditioneller Volksmusik. Das Stück beginnt mit der Melodie My Lodging Is on the Cold Ground“, auch bekannt unter dem Titel Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms“ (Takt 5-24). Anschließend erklingt die bekannte Melodie The Minstrel Boy“ (Takt 29-44). Schließlich ist The Groves of Blarney“, vielleicht bekannter unter dem Titel The Last Rose of Summer“ (Takt 53-68), zu hören. Jede Melodie wird durch eine kurze Einleitung angekündigt und mit einem kurzen Nachspiel beendet. 2. Old Kentucky Memories, nach einer 14 Takte dauerndern Einleitung tritt das Lied My Old Kentucky Home“ in den Mittelpunkt. Im weiteren Verlauf des Stücks erscheinen bruchstückhafte Erinnerungen, die fast so schnell wieder verschwinden, wie sie auftauchen. Dies wird musikalisch durch kleine Motive und Themen aus anderen Liedern dargestellt. Diese sind kurz zu hören und verschwinden dann, während man über Old Kentucky nachdenkt, bis die Einleitung wieder erklingt, die zum Schluss des Stückes führt. 3. Uppland, ist eine schwedische Provinz, die wie ganz Schweden eine reiche Volksmusikkultur mit vielen Liedern und Tänzen hat. Eine große Anzahl der Lieder und Tänze, von denen drei in diesem Abschnitt enthalten sind, stehen in Moll-Tonarten. Zuerst hören wir Svensk folkvisa“ (Takt 1-38), darauf erklingt das berühmte Värmlandsvisan“ (Takt 39-67) und am Ende Vexelsang“ (Takt 68-end). 4. Ratatouille, in diesem Abschnitt werden nicht die Volkslieder eines einzigen Landes oder einer einzigen Provinz vorgestellt, sondern das Stück ist ein Mischung (oder Ratatouille“) aus drei Volksliedern, die keinerlei Beziehung zueinander haben. Zunächst erklingt ein Lied aus Russland (Takt 1-30), dann eines aus Japan (Takt 31-58) und zum Schluss eines aus Australien (Takt 59-Ende). Der Komponist des russischen Liedes mit dem Titel The Nightingale“ ist Alexander Alyabyev (1787 1851). Die Komponisten des japanischen Liedes Sakura“ und der australischen Melodie Waltzing Matilda“ sind unbekannt.

1. Emerald Isle (Île d’émeraude), cette première partie met en vedette la verdoyante île d’Irlande et son riche patrimoine de musique folklorique traditionnelle. Elle s’ouvre avec « My Lodging Is on the Cold Ground », un air également connu sous le titre « Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms » (mesures 5-24). Vient ensuite un autre air célèbre, « The Minstrel Boy » (mesures 29-44), lui-même suivi de « The Groves of Blarney », peut être mieux connu sous le titre « The Last Rose of Summer » (mesures 53-68). Chaque air est annoncé par une courte introduction et s’achève avec une courte conclusion. 2. Old Kentucky Memories (Souvenirs du vieux Kentucky), après une introduction de 14 mesures, toute l’attention se porte sur la chanson « My Old Kentucky Home ». A fil de la pièce, des fragments de souvenirs fugaces émergent, disparaissant aussi vite qu’ils se présentent : cette impression est créée par le biais de courts motifs et thèmes empruntés d’autres chansons. On les entend brièvement puis ils s’estompent, comme de lointains souvenirs du vieux Kentucky, jusqu’ une reprise de l’introduction pour conclure la pièce. 3. Uppland, est une province suédoise aux riches traditions musicales, tout comme l’ensemble de la Suède, qui compte de nombreuses danses et chansons. Beaucoup sont en tonalité mineure, et cette partie en comprend trois. La première est « Svensk folkvisa » (mesures 1-38), qui est suivie de « ‘Värmlandsvisan » (mesures 39-67), et la pièce s’achève avec « Vexelsang » (mesure 68 jusqu’ la fin). 4. Ratatouille, cette dernière partie ne comprend pas d’air provenant d’un seul pays. C’est un méli-mélo, une « ratatouille » de trois chansons folkloriques sans aucun lien. Il y a d’abord une chanson russe, « Le Rossignol » (mesures 1-30), puis « Sakura », originaire du Japon (mesures 31-58) et, enfin, « Waltzing Matilda », venue d’Australie (mesure 59 jusqu’ la fin). La chanson russe est d’Alexander Alyabyev (1787-1851), mais nous ignorons les auteurs des deux autres chansons.