SKU: BA.BA10303-01
ISBN 9790006559503. 33 x 26 cm inches. Key: C minor. Preface: Michael Stegemann.
The third symphony by Camille Saint-Saens, known as the Organ Symphony, is the first publication in a complete historical-critical edition of the French composer's instrumental works.I gave everything I was able to give in this work. [...] What I have done here I will never be able to do again.Camille Saint-Saens was rightly proud of his third Symphony in C minor Op.78, dedicated to the memory of Franz Liszt. Called theOrgan Symphonybecause of its novel scoring, the work was a commission from the Philharmonic Society in London, as was Beethoven's Ninth, and was premiered there on 19 May 1886. The first performance in Paris followed on 9 January 1887 and confirmed the composer's reputation asprobably the most significant, and certainly the most independent French symphonistof his time, as Ludwig Finscher wrote in MGG. In fact the work remains the only one in the history of that genre in France to the present day, composed a good half century after the Symphonie fantastique by Hector Berlioz and a good half century before Olivier Messiaen's Turangalila Symphonie.You would think that such a famous, much-performed and much recorded opus could not hold any more secrets, but far from it: in the first historical-critical edition of the Symphony, numerous inconsistencies and mistakes in the Durand edition in general use until now, have been uncovered and corrected. An examination and evaluation of the sources ranged from two early sketches, now preserved in Paris and Washington (in which the Symphony was still in B minor!) via the autograph manuscript and a set of proofs corrected by Saint-Saens himself, to the first and subsequent editions of the full score and parts. The versions for piano duet (by Leon Roques) and for two pianos (by the composer himself) were also consulted. Further crucial information was finally found in his extensive correspondence, encompassing thousands of previously unpublished letters. The discoveries made in producing this edition include the fact that at its London premiere, the Symphony probably looked quite different from its present appearance ...No less exciting than the work itself is the history of its composition and reception, which are described in an extensive foreword. With his Symphony, Saint-Saens entered right into the dispute which divided French musical life into pro and contra Wagner in the 1880s and 1890s. At the same time, the work succeeded in preserving the balance between tradition and modernism in masterly fashion, as a contemporary critic stated:The C minor Symphony by Saint-Saens creates a bridge from the past into the future, from immortal richness to progress, from ideas to their implementation.On 19 March 1886 Saint-Saens wrote to the London Philharmonic Society, which commissioned the work:Work on the symphony is in full swing. But I warn you, it will be terrible. Here is the precise instrumentation: 3 flutes / 2 oboes / 1 cor anglais / 2 clarinets / 1 bass clarinet / 2 bassoons / 1 contrabassoon / 2 natural horns / [3 trumpets / Saint-Saens had forgotten these in his listing.] 2 chromatic horns / 3 trombones / 1 tuba / 3 timpani / organ / 1 piano duet and the strings, of course. Fortunately, there are no harps. Unfortunately it will be difficult. I am doing what I can to mitigate the difficulties.As in my 4th Concerto [for piano] and my [1st] Violin Sonata [in D minor Op.75] at first glance there appear to be just two parts: the first Allegro and the Adagio, the Scherzo and the Finale, each attacca. This fiendish symphony has crept up by a semitone; it did not want to stay in B minor, and is now in C minor.It would be a pleasure for me to conduct this symphony. Whether it would be a pleasure for others to hear it? That is the question. It is you who wanted it, I wash my hands of it. I will bring the orchestral parts carefully corrected with me, and if anyone wants to give me a nice rehearsal for the symphony after the full rehearsal, everything will be fine.When Saint-Saens hit upon the idea of adding an organ and a piano to the usual orchestral scoring is not known. The idea of adding an organ part to a secular orchestral work intended for the concert hall was thoroughly novel - and not without controversy. On the other hand, Franz Liszt, whose music Saint-Saens' Symphony is so close to, had already demonstrated that the organ could easily be an orchestral instrument in his symphonic poem Hunnenschlacht (1856/57). There was also a model for the piano duet part which Saint-Saens knew and may possibly have used quite consciously as an exemplar: theFantaisie sur la Tempetefrom the lyrical monodrama Lelio, ou le retour a la Vie op. 14bis (1831) by Berlioz. The name of the organist at the premiere ist unknown, as, incidentally, was also the case with many of the later performances; the organ part is indeed not soloistic, but should be understood as part of the orchestral texture.In fact the subsequent success of the symphony seems to have represented a kind of breakthrough for the composer, who was then over 50 years of age.My dear composer of a famous symphony, wrote Saint-Saens' friend and pupil Gabriel Faure:You will never be able to imagine what a pleasure I had last Sunday [at the second performance on 16 January 1887]! And I had the score and did not miss a single note of this Symphony, which will endure much longer than we two, even if we were to join together our two lifespans!
About Barenreiter Urtext
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MUSICOLOGICALLY SOUND - A reliable musical text based on all available sources - A description of the sources - Information on the genesis and history of the work - Valuable notes on performance practice - Includes an introduction with critical commentary explaining source discrepancies and editorial decisions ... AND PRACTICAL - Page-turns, fold-out pages, and cues where you need them - A well-presented layout and a user-friendly format - Excellent print quality - Superior paper and binding
SKU: BT.PMC2471
The Lover in Winter plaineth for the Spring - Hey Nonny no - My Blood so red - Suspiria - The Miracle - Tears - Crabbed Age and Youth.
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,â€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.â€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,â€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 tuneâ€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 sightâ€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: PR.16500100F
ISBN 9781491114421. UPC: 680160669783. 9 x 12 inches.
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: PR.114418820
ISBN 9781491113998. UPC: 680160667697.
Composed by Telemann as a double concerto for recorder and transverse flute, Zart Dombourian-Eby’s new edition is prepared for piccolo, flute, and piano — remaining compatible with available orchestral editions, and respectfully faithful to Telemann’s detailed nuances. Cast in the slow-fast, slow-fast four-movement mold typical of Baroque concert works, the CONCERTO IN E MINOR is at once among the most beautiful and exhilarating works of Telemann’s formidable output.______________________________________Text from the scanned back cover:ZART DOMBOURIAN-EBY is the Principal Piccoloist of the SeattleSymphony and is regularly featured as both a soloist and clinician in Seattle and across the world. Her performances consistently receive highest praise from both critics and audiences. A native of New Orleans, she received B.A. and M.M. degrees from Louisiana State University. After a year of study with Albert Tipton she attended Northwestern University earning a Doctor of Music degree under the tutelage of Walfrid Kujala. She has been a member of the New Orleans Pops, Baton Rouge Symphony, Colorado Philharmonic, and the Civic Orchestra of Chicago. She has performed with the Chicago Symphony and served on the faculties of the University of Washington and Pacific Lutheran University. She was the founding editor of Flute Talk and ison the Editorial Board for The Flutist Quarterly. Zart is the immediate past president of the National Flute Association, and been a featured soloist and presenter at numerous NFA conventions. Zart has commissioned numerous works, including two for piccolo and piano by Martin Amlin, sonatas by Gary Schocker and Levente Gyongyosi, and a chamber work by Ken Benshoof. She can be heard in over 100 recordings by the Seattle Symphony, and her solo CD, in shadow, light, is available on Crystal Records. Her award-winning edition of the three Vivaldi piccolo concertos is published by Theodore Presser.A native of Seattle, VALERIE SHIELDS received her B.M. summa cum laude in organ and violin from St. Olaf College. While completing her M.M. from Northwestern University, she became increasingly interested and skilled in the art of improvisation. She served as Director of Music at St. Luke’s Lutheran Church in Park Ridge, Illinois, where she developed a music program involving over 150 participants in choirs and chamber music groups.Upon her return to Seattle, she served for 12 years as director of adivision of the Northwest Girlchoir. She became organist and developed a vibrant Youth Choir at Phinney Ridge Lutheran Church, where she served for over 30 years, as well as enjoying a 20-year tenure as Music Director and Composer-in-Residence of Temple De Hirsch Sinai. Valerie’s work with children’s choirs,churches, and synagogues has inspired over 100 published compositions.When I was invited to perform a Vivaldi piccolo concerto in Italy a few years ago, my host, Luisa Sello, wrote that Carol Wincenc was going to be on the same concert, and was there any piece that we could play together? I looked and asked around, and my colleague Joanna Bassett recommended the Telemann Concerto in E Minor for Traverso and Recorder. I didn’t know the piece, but as I listened to a recording of it, I immediately loved it and could easily envision how beautifully it could work, with a few “adjustments,†for flute and piccolo. I got to work, and the current publication is the result. I have performed it many times, and enjoy it even more every time. It fits a unique place in our repertoire, and works equally well with piano as with the string orchestra setting.According to Steven D. Zohn, pre-eminent Telemann scholar, and author of Music for a Mixed Taste: Style, Genre, and Meaning in Telemann’s Instrumental Works, much is unknown about the concerto itself; it likely dates from the 1720s, soon after Telemann moved to Hamburg. Only an eighteenth-century copyist’s set of parts is extant, that of Johann Samuel Endler, who was engaged at the Darmstadt court as a singer and violinist, later becoming Vice-Kapellmeister and Kapellmeister, and who had a large collection of Telemann’s works.As in my Vivaldi concertos edition (Presser 414-41190), I have added virtually all of the articulations and dynamics that appear here, and have inserted quite a bit of ornamentation. Unlike the Vivaldi edition, I have not included any indication of the original Telemann in those passages, nor have I included any pedagogical markings, such as fingerings.Finally, I would like to acknowledge, with gratitude, Joanna Bassett, Daniel Dorff, Benton Gordon, Evan Pengra-Sult, Sandra Saathoff, Valerie Shields, Carol Wincenc, and Steven Zohn, for the various roles they played in the making of this publication.— Zart Dombourian-EbyJune 2018.
SKU: GI.G-9199
ISBN 9781622772087. English.
A summary of the practice of music advocacy, this book compiles research and thirty years’ experience of one of the nation’s most successful advocates for music education. It gives music educators, administrators, school board members, and community advocates step-by-step procedures for saving and building school music programs. John L. Benham has been in music education for over forty years and has worked as an advocacy consultant saving and building music programs for thirty years. His advocacy work and the methods presented in this book have saved $70 million in proposed music cuts, equivalent to approximately 2,000 teaching positions and 500,000 music students. Read what people have to say about Music Advocacy: Moving from Survival to Vision: Finally—a how to book for music education in our own districts! John L. Benham provides us with ‘the right stuff’ as well as rules to ensure that programs stay intact and keep complacency at bay. This must-have resource helps us understand educational processes and how budget decisions are made. It also provides suggestions on how to involve all constituents in the process of advocacy by guaranteeing that the best interest of the students remains the basis for all decision making. Music programs can be saved even when cuts appear to be imminent, and Music Advocacy: Moving from Survival to Vision provides effective, proactive strategies not only to avoid these cuts but also to establish a long-term plan for continued development. —Marcia M. Neel, president, Music Education Consultants, Inc.  John Benham is a rare individual who walks his talk with a sense of mission unknown in common hours, and every person connected with arts education is the beneficiary of his immeasurable commitment and dedication. Once again he has come to the forefront of the profession by sharing his profound knowledge and wisdom. Simply put, this book represents a tried-and-true blueprint of success. It is a priceless gift to the future of our educational landscape and a reflective tribute to the visionary contribution of an author of purpose. —Tim Lautzenheiser, Attitude Concepts for Today, Inc.  Benham’s new book is a must-have for every music department at both the K–12 and collegiate levels. His theory of reverse economics along with his guidance have saved music education experiences for thousands of students as well as many careers. This book provides information on scheduling issues as well as a clear explanation of his reverse economics theory. It gives a step-by-step outline on how to handle threats to music programs. The book is a wealth of information and is highly recommended. —Mary Wagner, chair, Fairfax Arts Coalition for Education, and National ASTA past president  As a music retailer who has worked closely with John L. Benham for over ten years, I appreciate his discovery of reverse economics. It is brilliantly simple and proves the financial efficacy of a healthy music department! Every instrument retailer needs to share this vital resource with all of their school customers. This is the manual that every music department needs to fully support their program. The information needs to be shared with your school board every year. —Doug Schmitt, vice president of music education, Schmitt Music Stores.
SKU: BR.BV-450
The extensive and eagerly awaited Reger biography couldn't be introduced at a better time.
ISBN 9783765104503. 6.5 x 9.5 inches. German.
And it comes from a most qualified hand that of Susanne Popp, author of the Reger Work Catalogue and head of the Max Reger Institute for many years. She was predestined to portray one of the most fascinating composers of the past turn of the century. No better time? In May 2016 we will be commemorating the 100th anniversary of the death of Max Reger, and the musical world will want to honor with many events the great out-of-time composer who saw himself between tradition and avant-garde. Susanne Popp's comprehensive biography provides help for finding our way in this prolific life on the basis of letters and documents, some of them practically unknown, which visually depict the restless life of the workaholic. Moreover, for the biographical information, a multi-media project is also being planned through audio examples and visual documents on the Reger Institute's home page.The extensive and eagerly awaited Reger biography couldn't be introduced at a better time.
SKU: ST.PC5
ISBN 9790220223440.
An extraordinary acknowledgement of the esteem with which the composer was regarded in his lifetime, the three surviving odes on the death of Henry Purcell are also in themselves among the finest works by his English contemporaries. John Blow's extended elegy 'Mark how the lark and linnet sing', which sets a poem by Dryden, modestly scored for two voices, two recorders and continuo, is a masterpiece displaying both the contrapuntal skill which Blow had taught Purcell and the florid declamatory style which Purcell had brought to perfection in such numbers as ''Tis Nature's voice' in Hail! bright Cecilia. Henry Hall's 'Yes my Aminta', laid out for similar forces, is an eloquent and finely crafted pastoral dialogue in the pathetic style, with words probably written by the composer himself. Grandest in conception is 'Come, come along for a dance and a song', by Jeremiah Clarke. Setting a conventional pastoral elegy penned by an unknown hand, it marshals three solo voices, chorus and full baroque orchestra in a sequence of contrasting movements - including both the song and the dance to which the title refers - which together form a lament at once arresting and poignant. The three works have not hitherto been presented together, and the Clarke appears for the first time in a modern critical edition - together with Godfrey Finger's hitherto unpublished 'Farewell' Suite in G minor, probably from his own lost ode on Purcell's death.
SKU: BA.BA11309
ISBN 9790006577705. 27 x 19 cm inches. Text Language: English.
It is a small music history sensation: Thanks to Yves Grard an unknown and unpublished manuscript penned by Camille Saint-Saëns has been unearthed in the Mdiathèque Jean Renoir in Dieppe in France.It is the top four instrumental parts which make this manuscript something of a sensation. Placed under each other are â??Saxophone Soprano en Si bâ?, â??Saxophone Alto en Mi bâ?, â??Saxophone Tnor en Si bâ? and â??Saxophone Baryton en Mi bâ?, strings, soprano solo with chorus and organ. Musical history has hitherto credited Jean-Baptiste Singele (1812â??1875) with having written the first saxophone quartet, his opus 53, which he completed in 1857. Now this historiography clearly has to be revised. The date 1854 has been found under the first page of the treasure from Dieppe, which is pasted over and also sewn, meaning that Saint-Saënsâ?? work was written three years earlier than that of Singele.In contrast to Singele, Saint-Saëns does not have the wind instruments taking solo parts but rather uses their tonal colour to depict textual moods and nuances. On the one hand the saxophones accompany the choral parts (certainly singable by amateurs) and support the human voices in fugal passages. On the other hand, they take the melody in the purely orchestral passages.Saint-Saëns wrote the motet in the period when he had taken up his first permanent appointment as organist at the Church of Saint-Merri in Paris. He revised the work several times over the decades, changing the motifs at the beginning, correcting obvious mistakes, reworking the ending, eventually changing the instrumentation several times and even â?? probably in the final stage â?? replacing the Latin text with an English one. Today, three-and-a-half versions have been handed down, one of them stopping after just a few pages. The compositional steps have been successfully reconstructed by means of detailed detective work. Furthermore, the first saxophone version (BA 11305) and the last English piano version (BA 11309) have been edited to produce a scholarly-critical edition.The present edition of the English version for soprano solo, choir and piano (BA 11309) serves both as a full score and as a vocal score due to the instrumentation.
SKU: HL.48186489
UPC: 888680832667. 6.75x9.75 inches.
“AL 30 757 ' French Music for Mixed Choir Those who love choral singing often lament not knowing how to go about finding, among the heaps of scores written for multiple singers, the rare gem whose discovery would intensify the enjoyment of singing together. What unknown treasure might bring a programme the touch of originality that makes it stand out? As the fruit of long and hard research on the subject, this anthology of French pieces for choir is one we hope will go down in history. The first section is made up of original works written for choral ensemble: Gabriel Fauré's Op. 35 Madrigal exhales a melancholy sensuality that is shared to some degree by Reynaldo Hahn's Rondels ' and within this Renaissance pastiche lies a real masterpiece, 'Gardez le trait de la fenêtre'. Le Ballet des ombres, written by a young Berlioz, drinks from the whimsical source of Romanticism (Herder). The second section assembles choral transcriptions of melodies ' such as Beau soir by Debussy and Deux Prières by Milhaud ' along with excellent arrangements like 'Choral inappétissant' extracted from Satie's piano in Sports et divertissements. A treasure trove of pure delight.&rdquo.