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DANIELLE DE NIESE, SOPRANO Danielle de Niese’s “sweet, gleaming soprano,” “phenomenal musicality” and “sharply comic, yet utterly moving acting,” combined with youth and physical presence, have brought her to the edge of a spectacular career. At only 30 years of age, the Australian-born American singer regularly graces many of the world’s most prestigious opera and concert stages, and has an exclusive contract with Decca Records. Her debut solo album, Handel Arias was released to international acclaim in 2007 and her much anticipated second recording, The Mozart Album, is due out internationally this fall. Ms. de Niese’s career got off to a prestigious start when, at age 18, she became the youngest singer ever to enter the Metropolitan Opera’s Lindemann Young Artist Development Program. A year later she made her house debut as Barbarina in a new Jonathan Miller production of Le nozze di Figaro in a cast featuring Renée Fleming, Bryn Terfel, and Cecilia Bartoli, and led by James Levine. Soon after came important operatic debuts with the Netherlands Opera, the Saito Kinen Festival, and the Paris Opera. But it was her portrayal of Cleopatra in a David McVicar production of Handel’s Giulio Cesare for her 2005 Glyndebourne Festival debut that brought her to true international acclaim. The New York Times hailed de Niese’s performance, writing, “Her singing is utterly delectable and completely assured…Sheer ‘joie de vivre’ and mastery come spilling across, to the eyes as well as the ears.” Since then Ms. de Niese has enjoyed operatic successes on the stages of the Paris Opera, Zurich Opera, Netherlands Opera, and Lyric Opera of Chicago among many others. Orchestral engagements have included appearances with the New York Philharmonic, Cleveland Orchestra, National Symphony, San Francisco Symphony, and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. In the 2009-10 season Ms. de Niese returns to the Metropolitan Opera in the same production of Le nozze di Figaro where she made her house debut but this time as Susanna. Other important opera engagements this season include L’incoronazione di Poppea with the Teatro Real, Semele with Théâtre des Champs Elysées, as well as Susanna in Le nozze di Figaro with Lyric Opera of Chicago under the direction of Edward Gardner. Additionally, Ms. de Niese will tour Europe with the period instrument group Il giardino armonico with an all Handel program with performances in Amsterdam, Vienna, Berlin and Madrid among others. She will make her debut in Prague with the Philharmonia under the direction of Jakub Hrusa. Australian-born to parents of Sri Lankan and Dutch heritage, Danielle de Niese grew up in Los Angeles. The soprano has been captivating audiences since childhood, when she was a fixture of Los Angeles local television hosting a weekly arts showcase for teenagers, for which she won an Emmy Award. Trained in dance and piano as well as music at the famed Colburn School in Los Angeles, she participated in the Tanglewood, Aspen and Marlboro summer programs before coming to New York in 1997 to attend the Mannes School of Music. Recently the Netherlands Opera awarded Ms. de Niese their “Prix d’Amis” which is an honor bestowed upon the artist who their audience votes as the past season’s favorite performer. Ms. de Niese is the recipient of the 2008 Echo Award’s New Artist of the Year, the 2008 Orphee D’Or given by the Academie Du Disque Lyrique, and was nominated for the 2009 Classical Brit Award for female artist of the year, all for her debut album, Handel Arias.

December 18, 2016: Emmanuel Ceyssonu, harp; Jerry Grossman, cello; Inn-hyuck Cho, clarinet GILAD COHEN Trio for a Spry Clarinet, Weeping Cello, and Ruminating Harp December 18, 2016: Emmanuel Ceyssonu, harp; Jerry Grossman, cello; Inn-hyuck Cho, clarinet An active composer, performer, and theorist, Israeli musician Gilad Cohen focuses on a variety of musical genres that include concert music, rock, and music for theater. His works have been performed in North America, Asia, Europe, and the Middle East by renowned artists ranging from London’s Nash Ensemble and the Apollo Chamber Players to the Brentano Quartet and Tre Voci (Kim Kashkashian, Marina Piccinini and Sivan Magen), as well as orchestras and choirs throughout Israel and his own rock band, Double Space. Recipient of myriad honors and top composition prizes, Cohen was recently awarded the 2016 Barlow Prize, resulting in the commission of a duet for violin and piano that will be premiered by a consortium of performers. His other recent and current projects include Around the Cauldron , commissioned by Concert Artists Guild with support from the Adele and John Gray Endowment Fund, to be premiered at Carnegie Hall in 2017, and Doaa and Masa , which will be premiered this year by harpist Sivan Magen in Hong-Kong, Israel, and Columbia. He is also working on a new quintet for the 10th anniversary of the Israeli Chamber Project for premiere performances on their 2018 tours. On the rock/pop front, Cohen’s music for Double Space and modern-klezmer ensemble Klezshop was awarded the Outstanding Achievement in Songwriting Award in the 11th Annual Great American Song Contest and was a finalist at the John Lennon Songwriting Contest. As a theorist Cohen has researched structure in the music of Pink Floyd, resulting in articles in prestigious publications, lectures in the U.S. and Israel, a four-credit course at Ramapo College, and the first-ever academic conference devoted to Pink Floyd that he coproduced at Princeton University with composer Dave Molk. As a performing musician, Cohen has played piano, bass guitar, and guitar at renowned venues worldwide, and he has served on occasion as a choral conductor and music director of musicals. A faculty member at Ramapo College, Cohen holds a Ph.D. in composition from Princeton University, and he is a graduate of Mannes College of Music, the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance, and the BMI Lehman Engel Musical Theatre Workshop. Among his principal teachers were Robert Cuckson, Steven Mackey, and Paul Lansky. Cohen composed his Trio for a Spry Clarinet, Weeping Cello, and Ruminating Harp in 2009 (revised 2010) on a commission from the Israeli Chamber Project. ICP members Tibi Cziger, Michal Korman, and Sivan Magen gave the premiere at the Stephen Wise Free Synagogue in New York on May 14, 2009, and the work went on to win the 2013 International Composition Competition of the American Harp Society in Dallas. The Trio will also be played this year by members of the Sinfonieorchester Münster (Germany), the Kassia Ensemble at Chamber Music Pittsburgh, and the Exponential Ensemble at New York’s National Opera Center. The composer writes: “When approaching the task of writing a piece for the unusual instrumentation of clarinet, cello, and harp, I have been influenced by a mixture of different musical styles that, in my mind, relate to these instruments: folk music, Jewish klezmer, impressionism, and rock (after all, it is a known fact the cello originated from the electric guitar). As it often happens, the result is somewhat different than the original plan, but some elements from these genres have still found their way to the final version. “The Trio is loosely constructed out of three movements that are played in a row and offer different versions of similar themes, while each instrument aims to pull the musical style in its own direction. While the first movement showcases the clarinet in some klezmer figurations, the second features a texture that resembles a rock band: the cello is ‘soloing’ on top of a rhythmic accompaniment by the harp and a funky bass line by the bass clarinet. At the beginning of the closing movement, the harp reintroduces earlier themes in a gentler and somewhat impressionistic mood. Toward the end of the piece, there is a triumphant moment at which all instruments showcase their individual variations simultaneously. Thus, they celebrate their differences in tone as well as their blend together.” © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

WESTON SPROTT, TROMBONE Weston Sprott was appointed to the position of second trombone of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra in the spring of 2005. He began his musical training in his hometown of Spring, TX. Mr. Sprott attended Indiana University before completing his Bachelor of Music degree at The Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. His primary teachers include Michael Warny (Houston Grand Opera and Ballet Orchestras), Carl Lenthe (former Principal Trombone, Bavarian State Opera and Bamberg Symphony) and Nitzan Haroz (Principal Trombone-Philadelphia Orchestra). While a student at Curtis, Mr. Sprott held the positions of Principal Trombone in the Pennsylvania Ballet Orchestra (Philadelphia) and the Delaware Symphony Orchestra. He was the founding member of the Texas Trombone Octet, a group that won the Emory Remington competition and was featured in concert at the International Trombone Festival in Helsinki, Finland. Mr. Sprott has performed with The Philadelphia Orchestra, Oslo Philharmonic, Atlanta Symphony, Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia, the Tanglewood Music Center, Spoleto Festival USA, Hot Springs Music Festival, The American Wind Symphony Orchestra, and The Sphinx Symphony (Detroit). He has also performed with the St. Barts Music Festival and the Martha’s Vineyard Chamber Music Society. Mr. Sprott has worked under the baton of many of the world’s great conductors including Sir Simon Rattle, James Levine, Kurt Masur, Lorin Maazel, Christoph Eschenbach, Andre Previn and numerous others. Mr. Sprott was recently featured in the documentary film “A Wayfarer’s Journey:Listening to Mahler” with actor Richard Dreyfuss and actress Kathleen Chalfant. He was also a performer in the film “Rittenhouse Square” under the direction of Robert Downey, a documentary that played in major film festivals throughout the United States to critical acclaim. In September 2007, Mr. Sprott made his Carnegie Hall solo debut performing Lars Erik-Larsson’s Concertino in Weill Recital Hall at the invitation of the Bulgarian Consulate. Other engagements have led to performances with gospel and jazz artists such as Branford Marsalis, Take 6 and Donnie McClurkin. Performances and interviews with Mr. Sprott have been seen and heard on PBS’ Great Performances, NPR’s Performance Today, and Sirius Satellite Radio. In demand as a soloist and masterclass clinician, Mr. Sprott has been a featured guest artist at several of America’s leading conservatories and universities. He is currently on the faculty of Juilliard’s Music Advancement Program, and he previously served on the faculty of The New School University, a division of the Mannes School of Music in New York City. Weston Sprott is an artist/clinician for the Edwards Instrument Company. He performs exclusively on Edwards trombones and Doug Elliott mouthpieces.

November 12, 2023: Angel Blue, soprano; Bryan Wagorn, piano GIACOMO PUCCINI (1858–1924) Three Arias November 12, 2023: Angel Blue, soprano; Bryan Wagorn, piano Chi il bel sogno While in Vienna in 1913 for a performance of La fanciulla del West, Puccini was invited to compose an operetta for the Carltheater. He agreed in principle but insisted on a through-composed comic opera rather than an operetta which would have had spoken dialogue, songs, and dances. By the time he had set Giuseppe Adamo’s Italian version of A. M. Willner and Heinz Reichert’s German libretto, however, Italy had entered World War I. The contract with Vienna had to be revised, and La rondine (The swallow) was ultimately launched in neutral Monte Carlo on March 27, 1917. Revisions for Bologna, Rome, and Vienna failed to secure the opera’s success and regrettably this elegant work with its part Viennese, part Parisian flair and waltz rhythms remains Puccini’s least-known mature work. The story, similar to La traviata, involves Magda de Civry, a high-society courtesan who falls in love with the earnest but naive Ruggero. When he eventually gets his mother’s consent to their marriage, the heartbroken Magda feels compelled to reveal her past and leaves him to return to her old life—like a swallow returning to its nest. The opera’s most famous aria occurs in Act I before they have even met: At a party at her house, Magda is the only one who takes poet Prunier’s idea of true love seriously. When he begins to tell his unfinished story about Doretta, who spurned a king’s ransom for love—“Chi il bel sogno di Doretta” (Doretta’s beautiful dream)—Magda takes over its completion, recounting how Doretta falls deeply in love with a student. The aria’s pathos and floating melodic lines always evoke an emotional response. How fitting that Angel Blue presents “Chi il bel sogno” this afternoon in anticipation of her starring role in this spring’s revival of La rondine at the Met. Vissi d’arte Composed in 1898–99, Tosca is based on a dramatic play by Victorien Sardou with a libretto by Luigo Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa. Puccini’s theatrical instincts proved correct when, having had his way with changes to the libretto and having ignored his publisher’s wish for a transcendental love duet in Act III, Tosca played to full houses for twenty evenings beginning January 14, 1900, at the Teatro Costanzi in Rome. Though critical reviews were mixed, Tosca’s success was sealed after performances conducted by Toscanini two months later at Milan’s La Scala. The tragic plot concerns the popular opera singer Floria Tosca and her lover Mario Cavaradossi, a painter who assists fugitive freedom fighter Cesare Angelotti. The evil chief of police, Baron Scarpia, and his agents track down and torture Cavaradossi, leading Tosca to make a deal to save his life—Scarpia will arrange a fake execution in exchange for her favors. As soon as he has penned the safe-conduct papers she kills him. But Scarpia has deceived her, and when Cavaradossi is actually shot and killed, she leaps from the parapet to her own death. Tosca sings “Vissi d’arte” (I lived for art) in Act II just after Scarpia has proposed his cruel bargain. She addresses God movingly, asking why he is treating her thus when she has dedicated herself to music, love, and religious observance. Scarpia is unmoved, and Tosca is forced to give in, setting up the final tragedy. Puccini almost did not include the aria, fearing that it would interrupt the dramatic flow, but audiences remain forever grateful that in the end he kept this beautiful showstopper. O mio babbino caro Puccini completed his first comic opera, Gianni Schicchi, in February 1918 as the third of a series of one-act operas, preceded by the tragic Il tabarro (1916) and the mystic Suor Angelica (1917). Under the title Il trittico (The triptych), these operas premiered at New York’s Metropolitan Opera on December 14, 1918, followed less than a month later by a production in Rome. According to popular success but against Puccini’s wishes, the triptych was soon broken up, with Gianni Schicchi receiving the lion’s share of performances. Composing Gianni Schicchi had gone particularly quickly because Puccini was on familiar territory with an Italian subject and he was thrilled to be working on a comedy for the first time and also to be reaching back to medieval times and Dante’s Divine Comedy. Dante referred to Gianni Schicci only briefly and without humor in Cantos XXV and XXX of the Inferno as a “goblin” who cheated Buoso Donati’s relatives (Dante’s wife was a Donati) out of an inheritance. It was left to librettist Giovacchino Forzano and Puccini 600 years later to turn these scandalous events into a comedy—a brilliant if slightly ghastly one at that. Aside from the shenanigans with a body not even cold, there are the threats of chopped-off hands if the criminal scheme were uncovered. As a counterbalance there are the heartfelt arias for the initially thwarted lovers—such as Lauretta’s extremely popular “O mio babbino caro.” In her brief lyrical outpouring she begs her father, Gianni Schicchi, to help Rinuccio’s family recover some of the money that the just-deceased Buoso Donati has left to the church instead of to them—otherwise the couple will not be allowed to marry. Her heartfelt plea—one of the world’s favorite arias—melts his and the audience’s heart. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

May 19, 2019: Calidore String Quartet; Matthew Lipman, viola WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) String Quintet in E-flat, K. 614 May 19, 2019: Calidore String Quartet; Matthew Lipman, viola Mozart’s five string quintets (six with the addition of the quintet version of the Serenade for wind octet, K. 516b), show a certain connection with the Haydn brothers, Michael and Joseph. The first, K. 174, an early work from his Salzburg days, no doubt grew out of Mozart’s interest in the quintets of his colleague Michael. Already at this date Mozart was eager to try his hand at the fuller sonorities made possible by the additional of a second viola to the standard string quartet configuration. The later quintets—the glorious C major and G minor, written in Vienna within a month of one another in the spring of 1787, and the last two, in D major and E-flat major, written four months apart in the winter and spring of 1790–91—show a distinct connection with Joseph Haydn. The older composer was reported to have played Mozart’s quintets with him frequently—including the first private reading of the D major, K. 593—and no doubt would have done the same with the E-flat major, K. 614, had Haydn’s career not taken him to London. The music of this last Quintet shows the definite stamp of Haydn’s influence. Dated “April 12, 1791” in Mozart’s own catalog of his works, this E-flat Quintet turned out to be his last major chamber work. The first edition, published posthumously in 1793 with K. 593, bore the inscription “Composto per un Amatore Ongarese” (Composed for a Hungarian Enthusiast), and the publisher, Artaria, was reported by the Wiener Zeitung to have said that both quintets were written in response to “the very active encouragement of a music lover.” Scholar Ernst Franz Schmid suggested in the mid-twentieth century that the commissioner of the two quintets may have been Johann Tost—who had been a second violin player in Haydn’s orchestra at Esterháza and later became a wealthy businessman—though Tost was actually born in Moravia rather than Hungary. Mozart’s widow had mentioned in a letter to publisher André in 1800 that Mozart had done work for Tost, who said he possessed some of her husband’s manuscripts and had promised to identify them for her by their themes, but whether he did so and whether the two quintets were among them remains unknown. Eminent scholars Otto Eric Deutsch and H. C. Robbins Landon took up Schmid’s supposition, but Tost’s involvement remains speculation. Suffice it to say that Mozart seldom composed works without some financial gain in mind, and Tost as commissioner is a likely candidate. Mozart often played viola in the readings of his chamber music with Haydn and others, but he rarely led off boldly with a viola theme which is how the E-flat major Quintet begins. The two violas play a “hunting horn” call in lively 6/8 meter—typical for “hunt” themes but atypical for a Mozart first movement. Robbins Landon suggests that he may have borrowed the idea for a 6/8 first movement from Haydn’s Symphony No. 67 in F major, but an even closer model might be his own “Hunt” Quartet, K. 458. Mozart ingeniously explores this theme with counterpoint, trills, and cello interjections, even transforming it into a lyrical second theme. Another “viola moment” occurs in the recapitulation when the first viola gets to lead off the second theme. The slow movement unfolds as a stately theme with four free variations. Scholar Charles Rosen points to the slow movement in Haydn’s Symphony No. 85, “La Reine,” as a possible influence. Mozart interjects a remarkable chromatically inflected interlude before the first variation begins. The minuet skips along merrily, its playful simplicity masking some sophisticated touches, such as making his main motive rise in the violas instead of making its usual descent. The charming trio section draws on the pastoral device of a rustic drone. Mozart’s finale perhaps pays the greatest tribute to Haydn. As Rosen points out, its jolly main theme bears a remarkable similarity to the finale of one of the quartets that Haydn dedicated to Tost in 1790, op. 64, no. 6, but even more, Mozart’s style throughout reminds us of Haydn’s mischievous wit. The exuberant movement unfolds in masterful sonata-rondo form, with one of its most delicious surprises coming in the form of a fugato section in the development. We can only hope that Haydn got to experience this captivating piece of chamber music even though Mozart’s tragically early death prevented them from ever playing it together. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

March 8, 2026: Jonathan Biss, piano Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) Sonata in F, K. 533/494 March 8, 2026: Jonathan Biss, piano Mozart’s F major Piano Sonata, K. 533 and K. 494, was published by Franz Anton Hoffmeister in 1790, perhaps assuaging part of the composer’s financial debt to his friend. But the work was not newly composed, nor had it all been written at the same time. The Rondo, K. 494, had been completed on June 10, 1786, and the Allegro and Andante, K. 533, on January 3, 1788. When Mozart decided to join these movements to form a complete sonata, he added a twenty-seven-measure “cadenza” toward the end of the Rondo for dramatic weight. Overzealous nineteenth-century editors began publishing the chronologically separated movements independently, fostering a certain reluctance to accept the Sonata as a whole and perhaps inhibiting more frequent performance. Yet the Sonata is regarded by many as a masterpiece and Mozart’s own authority that the components belong together should be trusted. The Allegro’s unpretentious beginning expands into a sonata form on a grand scale. Mozart displays his “late-period” fondness for contrapuntal textures—as in the Jupiter Symphony and other piano sonatas—and takes particular delight in the shift of melodic material between right and left hands. Harmonic adventures such as those in the development become even more pronounced in the expressive Andante, with its chromatic dissonances and bold diminished chords. The lighthearted Rondo refrain provides supreme contrast to the preceding introspection. The movement’s full proportions befit its origin as an independent piece, but it should also be borne in mind that Mozart lengthened rather than shortened the Rondo for inclusion in the Sonata. The music-box effect of the refrain is balanced by its final appearance at the end in the bass register. The “cadenza” that precedes the refrain’s deeper return serves to heighten the drama. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

October 14, 2018: Garrick Ohlsson, piano JOHANNES BRAHMS (1833-1897) Variations on an Original Theme, op. 21, no. 1 and Variations on a Hungarian Song, op. 21, no. 2 October 14, 2018: Garrick Ohlsson, piano Brahms wrote to his friend Elisabet von Herzogenberg, “I have a singular affection for the variation form, and I believe that this form still compels our talent and ability.” His fondness stemmed in large part from his training in piano and composition with Eduard Marxsen, who stressed above all the importance of being able to vary a theme and whose own output contains a plethora of pieces in variation form. Brahms’s entire body of work is permeated with variation techniques, but the variation form itself also looms large—eight individual sets of variations and ten movements within larger works. These span four decades, from his Variations on a Theme by R. Schumann Variations of 1854 (or his Variations on a Hungarian Song if he indeed began them in 1853) to the variation movement in his E-flat Clarinet Sonata of 1894. Alongside the musical evidence, Brahms’s verbal statements make it clear that he preferred “strict” variation form over “fantasy” variations that strayed too far from the structure of the theme. Further, he said, within each discrete variation the resemblance to the theme, even if subtle, should be recognizable and not “found only with the eyes.” Nevertheless, he clearly allowed for great leeway within each distinct variation and showed remarkable ingenuity in his overall organization within a set. Brahms composed the two sets of Opus 21 variations in different waves of inspiration—the Variations on an Original Theme by February of 1857, preceded by the Variations on a Hungarian Song by 1856. On the surface they share little beside their form and D major key, yet in both instances Brahms groups together the minor-mode variations as a unit, connects many of the major-mode variations through melodic figuration, and concludes with a grand finale that returns to elements of the first variation. The differences in the two sets have much to do with his choice of themes—in the first case an expressive original theme written with an eye toward its potential for myriad sophisticated variations, and in the second an existing Hungarian song, which lent itself to a more melody-oriented and often extroverted treatment. Both themes, in different ways, show his penchant for metric play. The lovely theme of the Variations on an Original Theme unfolds in two nine-bar halves—each with a regular four-bar phrase plus an irregular five-bar phrase, a configuration he maintains almost throughout. The first two variations grow out of a gentle left-hand figuration that draws on the harmonic framework even as it contains references to the melodic outline. Brahms includes a nice hemiola (shift between groups of three pulses and two) toward the end of the first variation, and in the second he subtly introduces new harmonies. The third and fourth bring back the theme’s feature of a repeating bass note (pedal tone) with quiet, fluid chordal patterns above—tied over bar lines in the third and in a spate of little two-chord units in the fourth. Variation 5 introduces a delicate canon in contrary motion and Variation 6 scampers off like quicksilver but in gentle arching phrases. Variation 7 is remarkable for its spare, leaping textures. Brahms forcefully unleashes the minor mode in Variation 8 in a texture that quickly alternates right and left hands—something he would return to many times in his career. Variation 9 brings the set’s tempestuous climax, abetted by ominous left-hand rumbles that derive from the original pedal tones. Variation 10 remains agitated even as it recedes from the previous peak. The major mode returns with Variation 11, which is striking for its insistence on the pedal tone in the form of long trills. Brahms varies the repeats in this variation and adds an expansive coda that recalls earlier variations before subsiding peacefully. Brahms first jotted down the theme of the Variations on a Hungarian Song in January 1853 while concertizing with Hungarian violinist Ede Rémenyi, who provided him with a rich store of his country’s tunes. That April Brahms sent a set of three piano settings of Hungarian tunes to another Hungarian violinist, Joseph Joachim, who was to have a longer and much closer association with Brahms. The second of these settings became the theme for the present set of variations, which Brahms sent to Joachim in July of 1865, following up with a revised version in 1857. What especially attracted Brahms was the theme’s alternating measures of 3/4 and 4/4, a kind of metric play that fascinated him as much as it did Marxsen, whose formal tutelage he had just left to tour with Reményi. Brahms maintains the metric alternation through his first eight variations, returning to it at the conclusion of the extended finale. Following his presentation of the brief eight-measure theme in strong chords, Brahms immediately shifts to the minor mode for Variations 1 through 6. Their brevity allows only a glimpse at some fascinating characters—grandiose, lightly chordal, fleeting, imposing, ruminating (with some cimbalon-like accompaniment), and scampering. The switch to major at Variation 7 brings a supremely delicate variation over “quasi pizzicato” left hand. Throughout Brahms retains a melodic connection to the theme, sometimes altered subtly and sometimes migrating into another voice (Variations 2, 7, and 8 in part). The smoothing out of the meter begins in Variation 8, which is fascinating for its texture of little grace notes in the upper left-hand. Variations 9 through 12 retain the expressive vein with increasingly elaborate figuration building to the capping Variation 13 with its kaleidoscopic further variations, excursions to B-flat major and minor, and triumphant recall of the theme. We would be remiss not to mention that Brahms waited until 1861 to send both sets of variations to his publisher Simrock, who issued them in two volumes under the same opus number in March of the following year. The first public performance of the Variations on an Original Theme did not occur until October 31, 1865, when Clara Schumann presented them in Frankfurt am Main. The English pianist Florence May, Brahms’s student and biographer, gave the first public performance of the Variation on a Hungarian Song in London on March 25, 1874. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

Lucy Shelton, soprano “In the forefront was Lucy Shelton, a new-music diva if there ever was one, performing with fire, sensitivity, astounding surety of pitch, and what seemed like love abounding.” —The Boston Globe The only winner of two Walter W. Naumburg Awards—for both chamber music and solo singing—American soprano Lucy Shelton is an internationally recognized exponent of 20th- and 21st-Century repertory, having premiered over 100 works by many of today’s preeminent composers. Notable among these are Elliott Carter’s Tempo e Tempi and Of Challenge and Of Love, Oliver Knussen’s Whitman Settings, Joseph Schwantner’s Magabunda, Poul Ruders’s The Bells, Stephen Albert’s Flower of the Mountain, and Robert Zuidam’s opera Rage d’Amours. She has premiered Gerard Grisey’s L’Icone Paradoxiale with the Los Angeles Philharmonic; sung Pierre Boulez’s Le Visage Nuptial under the composer’s direction in Los Angeles, Chicago, London and Paris; performed György Kurtag’s The Sayings of Peter Bornemisza with pianist Sir Andras Schiff in Vienna and Berlin; and made her Aldeburgh Festival debut in the premiere of Alexander Goehr’s Sing, Ariel. Ms. Shelton has exhibited special skill in dramatic works, including Luciano Berio’s Passaggio with the Ensemble InterContemporain, Sir Michael Tippett’s The Midsummer Marriage (for Thames Television), Luigi Dallapiccola’s Il Prigioniero (her BBC Proms debut), and Bernard Rands’ Canti Lunatici. Highlights of past seasons include Ms. Shelton’s 2010 Grammy Nomination (with the Enso Quartet) for the Naxos release of Ginastera’s string quartets; her Zankel Hall debut with the Met Chamber Orchestra and Maestro James Levine in Carter’s A Mirror On Which To Dwell; and, in celebration of the work’s centenary, multiple performances of a staged Pierrot Lunaire with ten different ensembles worldwide (including eighth blackbird, the Da Capo Chamber Players, and Da Camera of Houston). Ms. Shelton’s numerous festival appearances have included the Aspen, Santa Fe, Ojai, Tanglewood, Chamber Music Northwest, Caen, and Salzburg festivals. Among the major orchestras with which she has worked are those of Amsterdam, Boston, Chicago, Cologne, St. Louis, Denver, London, New York, Paris, Munich, and Tokyo, working with such conductors as Sir Simon Rattle, Mstislav Rostropovich, Marin Alsop, Leonard Slatkin, Ingo Metzmacher, and Alan Gilbert. Ms. Shelton’s extensive discography is on the Nonesuch, Deutsche Grammophon, Koch International, NMC, Bridge, BIS, Albany and Innova labels. A native of California, Ms. Shelton’s primary mentor was mezzo-soprano Jan De Gaetani. In recognition of her contribution to the field of contemporary music, she received Honorary Doctorate Degrees from both Pomona College (2003) and the Boston Conservatory (2013). Ms. Shelton has taught at the Third Street Settlement School in Manhattan, the Eastman School, the New England Conservatory, the Cleveland Institute, the Tanglewood Music Center, and the Britten-Pears School. In the fall of 2007, she joined the faculty of the Manhattan School of Music’s innovative Contemporary Performance Program. Additionally, Shelton teaches privately in her New York City studio.

October 19, 2008 – Sheryl Staples, violin; Cynthia Phelps, viola WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) Duo in G, K. 423, for violin & viola October 19, 2008 – Sheryl Staples, violin; Cynthia Phelps, viola Mozart’s relationship with the Archbishop of Salzburg, Hieronymus Colloredo, was never a cordial one. The Archbishop regarded court musicians as members of his household staff, obliged to serve at the whim of the master. Mozart, feeling increasingly resentful and constricted, finally submitted his resignation in 1781. Afterwards, he wrote to his father, “I am no longer so unfortunate as to be in Salzburg’s services – today was that happy day for me.” The tense relationship between the composer and the prince ended ingloriously; the archbishop’s chief steward, Count Arco, dismissed the unruly musician with a “kick in the behind,” as Mozart reported to his father. In the summer of 1783, Mozart returned to Salzburg for the first time since his break with Archbishop Colloredo. It was a nervous visit for Mozart, who was bringing his new wife, Constanze, to meet his father for the first time. In a letter he expressed concern that the archbishop might have him arrested. While in Salzburg, Mozart found the court music director, Michael Haydn (the younger brother of Joseph), suffering from a protracted illness and unable to complete a commission from the Archbishop for six duos for violin and viola. The impatient Archbishop had threatened to cut off Haydn’s salary until the two remaining duos were complete. As a favor to his old friend, Mozart composed the missing duos and gave them to Hadyn to pass off as his own. The two resulting works, in G and B-flat major, received more praise than the other four. It must have given Mozart an ironic pleasure to know that his old enemy Colleredo was unwittingly enjoying the music of his despised former employee. Mozart was a skillful player of both instruments, although his preference was for the viola. The Duo in G reflects this preference, as he treats the lower instrument as a full partner in the musical discourse, rather than relegating it to its more familiar role as an accompanying voice. The first movement features a sparkling interchange between the two instruments. The lyrical slow movement is built on an aria-like main idea, reflecting Mozart’s lifelong love of opera and the human voice. The liting Rondo is a movement of great charm and virtuosity. Although composed in a lighter vein, as befit the style of his older musical colleague, Mozart’s effortless mastery shines through at every turn, often bringing to mind the writing in his earlier masterpiece for solo violin and viola, Symphonie Concertante. By Michael Parloff Return to Parlance Program Notes

transcr. Sharon Isbin November 2, 2014 – Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano, Sharon Isbin, guitar FEDERICO GARCÍA LORCA (1898–1936) Canciones españolas antiguas transcr. Sharon Isbin November 2, 2014 – Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano, Sharon Isbin, guitar García Lorca may be best known for his literary achievements, yet few great poets and playwrights have been involved in music to the extent that he was. Reported to have hummed tunes before he could talk, he received early musical training; by the age of eleven he was studying piano in Granada with Antonio Segura and Francisco Benítez. Pedro Revuelta, in his article “Lorca and Music” somehow assigned the precise figure of 87% to his life activities revolving around music. Lorca’s poems frequently bear musical titles—Songs, Gypsy Ballads, Suites; and many of his essays are devoted to musical topics—Ancient Spanish Lullabies, How a City Sings and Sleeps , and El cante jondo (often translated as “deep song,” referring to the whole body of flamenco or Gypsy music). Lorca’s inspiration came not only from his native Spanish music, but from composers of Western art music—he apparently listened obsessively to Bach’s Cantata 104: Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme while writing the second act of his famous tragedy Blood Wedding (1933). Lorca loved the music of Debussy, particularly his Spanish-inspired works—he is said to have given exquisite performances on the piano of La soirée dans Grenade from Estampes and La puerta del vino from the second book of Préludes. Lorca formed one of the greatest friendships of his life with composer Manuel de Falla, to whom he was introduced as a prodigy poet when Falla visited Granada in 1919. Falla settled there permanently the following year and the two collaborated on many projects, including the celebrated cante jondo festival in 1922 for which Lorca wrote his lecture/essay El cante jondo . This discussion of the history and techniques of flamenco singing is notable for its consideration of the guitarist as the equal of the singer, since the latter had always been considered the main attraction. In his lecture/essay Ancient Spanish Lullabies , first given at Vassar College in 1930, Lorca dealt with a subject that had been part of him since birth. He particularly stressed that Spanish lullabies, unlike other European lullabies, are not sweet, soft, and monotonous, but they “awaken” the child to the dangers outside the mother’s protective arms; aware of the dangers, the child will realize the security of those arms and fall asleep. Eventually, however, the child must realize that he or she is alone. Lorca collected and arranged many Spanish folk songs, particularly from his native Andalusian region in the south—perhaps tinkering with their words himself. His moving performances of them, sometimes singing and accompanying himself on piano or guitar, became well known to millions of Spaniards before he was shot in the early days of the Spanish Civil War, apparently by supporters of Franco. His refusal to write down his arrangements is in keeping with the history of the oral tradition that so fascinated him. He also disliked the inability of the musical notation to reflect the characteristic microtonal and rhythmic complexities of this music. Fortunately in 1931 he made five records of his arrangements, sung by La Argentinita and accompanied by himself on the piano; these have been transcribed and performed countless times since. This evening’s selections of Canciones españolas antiguas , all arranged by Sharon Isbin, are interspersed throughout the program, beginning with “El café de Chinitas,” a song taught to Lorca by his great uncle, who earned his living playing in this flamenco nightclub in Málaga. The song’s protagonist brags that he is a better bullfighter and Gypsy than his brother and will kill the bull before four-thirty. The open-ended harmony (dominant) that ends all the song’s phrases and verses seems fitting in that we never find out what happens in the bullfight, but it is actually a typical practice in Spanish folk song, as in “Romance de Don Boyso.” Here, with distinctive melodic leaps of a fourth, we hear the story of a Spanish nobleman who finds a Christian girl held captive by the Moors, who turns out to be Rosalinda, his long-lost sister. “Nana de Sevilla” falls into the category of unsettling lullabies that Lorca mentioned in his famous lecture, since it tells of a baby, abandoned by its Gypsy mother, whose father may or may not build it a cradle. Lorca often performed his best-remembered song “Anda, jaleo” (Come, clap hands—or “have a good time,” or “make a commotion”) in his lectures and in his play La zapatera prodigiosa . La Argentinita made “Ande, jaleo” a dramatic popular dance when she toured in the 1930s and ’40s—she once called it a “romance of the smugglers of the nineteenth century” and a dance about “the cavaliers of the Sierra in their, fights, loves, and adieus.” Fit with explosive lyrics, it became a powerful resistance song during the Spanish Civil War, then resurfaced after Franco’s time as a flamenco number. With its repeating bass line and jaunty rhythms—together with Lorca’s occasionally piquant harmonic inflections—the folk version tells of a hunter tracking down his beloved who’s been taken away, and of the conflict between shooting to kill a dove (symbolic of her if she’s been unfaithful) and the pain it will cause him. Following pieces by Tárrega and Albéniz (see below), the evening’s second Lorca set begins with the Salamancan folk song “Los mozos de Monleón” (The Boys of Monleón). The music’s outward simplicity—with some sung and some recited text—belies the dramatic ending to its tale of boys going to a bullfight. For “Zorongo” Lorca took sensual Andalusian dance music—said to date back to the Moors—and fitted it with his own verses for La Argentinita to sing; he also imbued his guitar introduction with a plethora of parallel chords. The music’s quickly repeating patterns mingled with slowing phrases have made it a popular addition to flamenco tradition. The fifteenth-century “La morillas de Jaén” (The Three Moorish Girls of Jaén) unfolds with a simple chordal accompaniment and characteristic melodic ornaments. Its patterned introduction and interludes in 3/8 meter contrast with the tune itself, which mixes 6/8, 4/4, and 2/4 to reflect the declamatory style of the text. The vivacious “Sevillanas del Siglo XVIII” (Sevillanas of the Eighteenth Century) takes its name from the fast, triple meter, major-mode couples dance from Seville, which originated as an Andalusian variant of the Castilian seguidilla. The dance is typically performed to a traditional type of verses of four or seven lines with footwork reflecting the animated rhythms of the guitar, castanet, or tambourine. Triana and La Macarena in the poem refer to neighborhoods in Seville, Triana being associated in particular with flamenco. In the concert’s second half, the jaunty style of Lorca’s “La Tarrera” provides a marked contrast to the pensive style of the opening “Aranjuez, ma pensée” by Rodrigo. One might be tempted to ascribe it to the difference between the southern Andalusian style and that of the area in central Spain where Aranjuez lies (to which Rodrigo pays tribute), except that “La Tarara” has often been traced back to Castilian roots. It is such an old children’s song (there’s a Spanish saying that something is “as old as Tarara”) that it has many regional variants, and Lorca may have picked up one in Analusia. The protagonist, “La Tarara,” is a free-spirited, dancing, flirting girl (some say alma gitano or Gypsy soul) who likes to wear all manner of crazy clothing—some versions have her wearing pants completely covered in buttons or a white dress on Maundy Thursday in addition to the verses with frills and bells. More recently she has been seen as a cross-dresser. In any case, this remains one of Lorca’s most lively and popular songs, here arranged by Emilio de Torre and transcribed by Sharon Isbin. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

March 13, 2022: Kristin Lee, violin; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Michael Brown, piano MAURICE RAVEL (1875-1937) Sonata (Duo) for Violin and Cello March 13, 2022: Kristin Lee, violin; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Michael Brown, piano In 1920 Henry Prunières, editor of La Revue Musicale, commissioned pieces by ten prominent composers—Bartók, Dukas, Falla, Eugene Goossens, Malipiero, Ravel, Roussel, Satie, Schmitt, and Stravinsky—to be published in a special issue commemorating Debussy and to be played on a special recital at the Société Musicale Indépendante on January 24, 1921. Ravel’s contribution was the first movement of his Duo for violin and cello. Owing to work on a concurrent commission for the opera L’enfant et les sortilèges and numerous other distractions—including moving into a country villa where he could compose undisturbed—Ravel did not resume work on the Sonata until the summer of 1921, completing it in January 1922. At the time of the premiere on April 6, 1922, by violinist Hélène Jourdan-Morhange and cellist Maurice Maréchal, the work was still titled Duo, perhaps reflecting Kodály’s 1914 work of the same title for the same combination of instruments. Indeed the Hungarian flavor of parts of the finale may indicate more than titular influence. Ravel noted the Sonata (its published title)—as a “turning point” in his career from the lushness of previous works to a more “stripped down” style. The work shows a “restraint from harmonic charm,” wrote the composer, and is “more and more an emphatic reversion to the spirit of melody.” Unintended dissonances marred the first performance—consequences of Ravel’s novel ideas, which proved technically challenging. Naturally some critics complained about the austerity of the new style, but Gustave Samazeuilh wrote of the “supple imagination of the first movement, “the surprising verve” of the second and fourth movements, and the “pure and sustained line” of the slow movement. Ravel met the challenge of composing for reduced forces not only through a new melodic style, but through an incredible variety of textures, articulations, and timbres. In the sonata-form first movement he keeps both instruments in the same register much of the time, thus focusing not on their differences but their pitch content, which shifts between major and minor. By contrast, the scherzo showcases the different ranges of the two instruments and, even more striking, the difference between pizzicato (plucked) and arco (bowed) articulations. A wonderful texture is created by broken chords in harmonics that accompany the violin’s folklike pizzicato theme, which later returns arco with a new accompaniment. Another novel sonority occurs at the conclusion with the cello’s pizzicato, triple-stop glissando (slide). The slow movement begins and ends in calm introspection, rising to a turbulent peak in the middle. Its simple lyricism provides a great foil for the preceding scherzo and the following finale, which by turns can be characterized as agitated, playful, and driven. In this concluding movement Ravel delights in changing meters, Hungarian folk touches, and further pizzicato and arco contrasts as he artfully creates new themes and combines them with ideas that we’ve heard before, including prominent recalls from the first movement. The great swirl of themes, keys, and textures suddenly comes to a halt in a simple C major chord. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

September 24, 2017: Arnaud Sussmann, violin; Michael Brown, piano GABRIEL FAURÉ (1845-1924) Romance in B-flat major, op. 28 September 24, 2017: Arnaud Sussmann, violin; Michael Brown, piano Fauré began composing his Romance, op. 28, in August 1877 out of great boredom while on a three-week visit to Cautarets in the Pyrenées. He had been persuaded to go there by the famous singer Pauline Viardot to give her daughter Marianne, his reluctant fiancée, some time to think. On September 17, back in Paris, he wrote to his friend Marie Clerc that he had tried out the Romance with Marianne’s violinist brother Paul. Finally on the third run-through the assembled Viardot ladies warmed up to the piece, prompting Fauré to remark, “What a pity one cannot always begin with the third hearing.” Two years later he found himself asking Pauline Viardot if he could borrow the piece, having left the only manuscript at her house. The Romance unfolds in A-B-A form, with the flowing motion of the outer sections contrasted by a dramatic central section with an angular theme for the violin. A cadenza-like passage restores the calm of the opening. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes