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May 6, 2018: Kerry McDermott, violin; Clara Neubauer, violin; Paul Neubauer, viola; Oliver Neubauer, violin; Anne-Marie McDermott, piano GILAD COHEN Moonrhymes for Three Violins, Viola, and Piano May 6, 2018: Kerry McDermott, violin; Clara Neubauer, violin; Paul Neubauer, viola; Oliver Neubauer, violin; Anne-Marie McDermott, piano Commissioned by Parlance Chamber Concerts for the Neubauer-McDermott Family Premiere Performance, May 6, 2018 Born in Jerusalem, Israel, May 8, 1980 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, 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 Late Shadow for violin and piano, which is being premiered by a consortium of performers in 2018. His other recent projects include Around the Cauldron , commissioned by Concert Artists Guild with support from Adele and John Gray Endowment Fund for the Lysander Trio and premiered at Carnegie Hall in 2017; Doaa and Masa (2016) which harpist Sivan Magen is performing around the world; and Firefly Elegy for clarinet, violin, viola, cello, and harp, written for the 10th anniversary of the Israeli Chamber Project and just premiered in March 2018. Further, his string quartet Three Goat Blues (2015) was recorded by the Apollo Chamber Players and just released in November as part of their album Ancestral Voices on the Navona label. On the rock/pop front, Cohen’s “After the Tsimess” 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 the song 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 six-string 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’s Moonrhymes for three violins, viola, and piano was commissioned by Parlance Chamber Concerts for this world-premiere performance. The composer writes: “Written with the theme of family in mind, Moonrhymes is based on nursery rhymes from several countries. The piece is comprised of three movements (in addition to an introduction and a finale, all played without a break), each of them focusing on a traditional song from a different origin: the English-Irish ‘Danny Boy,’ the Latin ‘A la nanita nana,’ and the Israeli-Yiddish ‘Numi numi.’ Though such tunes have been sung as lullabies for many years, their lyrics are often more bleak than what might seem appropriate for bedtime. My treatment of these melodies likewise takes them to mysterious, reflective, and dark places using folk elements from various cultures. “Moonrhymes plays with the question of what rhyming could mean in instrumental music. Literal rhymes feature similarities in sound between words: the endings of rhyming words usually sound identical, while the beginnings are different. Likewise, the themes of the piece are very similar to the original tunes, but each carries a significant musical difference in pitch, rhythm, etc. Additionally, many moments in the piece ‘rhyme’ with one another: accompaniment figurations recur while supporting different tunes (such as a repeated arpeggiated minor-seventh chord), sounds and textures repeat through the piece (such as ‘glassy’ chords in the violins using harmonics), and musical themes float again and again into the surface (such as the melody of ‘Rock-a-bye Baby,’ another popular lullaby that features disturbing lyrics and functions as an introduction to each of the movements). “In the finale, all tunes—and cultures—join together: the Yiddish-based ‘Numi numi,’ with its Phyrygian mode, provides the foundation for ‘Danny Boy’ and its iconic English-American use of the pentatonic scale while also supporting figurations from both ‘Nanita’ (featuring a highly embellished minor-scale Spanish melody) and ‘Rock-a-bye Baby’ (whose sweet melody is disguised under darker harmonies).” © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

September 23, 2018: Arnaud Sussmann, solo violin; Michael Brown, piano; Sean Lee, violin; Emily Smith, violin; Matt Lipman, viola; Nick Canellakis, cello ERNEST CHAUSSON (1855-1899) Concert for Violin, Piano, and String Quartet in D major, op. 21 September 23, 2018: Arnaud Sussmann, solo violin; Michael Brown, piano; Sean Lee, violin; Emily Smith, violin; Matt Lipman, viola; Nick Canellakis, cello Chausson is one of an illustrious group of composers who initially studied to be something else. Berlioz studied medicine, Vivaldi trained for the priesthood, Telemann, Rameau, Handel, Schumann, Tchaikovsky, and Stravinsky all studied law, and so on. Chausson had to earn a law degree and license to satisfy his father. He had, nonetheless, been nurtured in music, painting, and literature by his wealthy parents and by the tutor they engaged for him, and he became acquainted with many of the most important artists of the day. He was twenty-five by the time he had finished his law studies and decided that of all the arts, music attracted him most. He then entered the Paris Conservatory, where César Franck became his most influential teacher. Because of his late start and untimely death at forty-four from a bicycle accident, Chausson had only a short composing career. His achievements were notable, however; his most successful compositions are probably his Poème for violin and orchestra, various songs, and the present Concert, op. 21. Written between 1889 and 1891, the Concert is unique in the chamber music repertoire—scored for solo piano and violin with string quartet. Chausson entitled it Concert (French for concerto) rather than “Sextet,” but it lies somewhere between a double concerto, in which the two solo instruments are pitted against an entire orchestra, and a sextet, in which all the instruments are more or less equal. The opening three-note motive of the introduction is the germinating cell of the first movement, which unfolds in full-fledged Romantic sonata form. The second movement is a brief intimate Sicilienne in A minor. The composer Vincent d’Indy, who arranged for the work’s premiere, described it as like “the gardens where bloom the charming fancies of a Gabriel Fauré.” Chausson is at his most brooding and chromatic in the third movement marked Grave. D’Indy remarked that the finale is “somewhat oddly conceived, and partakes rather of the nature of variation form than of one of the forms regularly employed in the sonata.” Yet it is like a rondo in many respects: the animated main theme regularly returns (albeit varied), and material of episodic nature intervenes, including material from the previous movements (second theme of the Grave). Franck’s influence on Chausson surfaces in the work’s cyclical form, modulatory procedures, and expressive lyricism. The Concert is dedicated, as is the Poème, to Eugène Ysaÿe, who played the solo violin part in the premiere in Brussels on March 4, 1892. The Crickboom Quartet played the remaining string parts, and Auguste Pierret was the pianist who saved the day when the originally scheduled pianist suddenly returned the score as too difficult. (Chausson dedicated his next chamber work, the Piano Quartet, op. 30, to Pierret in gratitude for his fine performance.) Chausson, a composer continually plagued by self doubt, was thrilled at the instant success of the Concert, which now occupies a permanent place in the chamber music repertoire. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

September 29, 2024: Edward Arron, Carter Brey, Rafael Figueroa, and Zvi Plesser, cellos Joseph Haydn (1732-1809) Allegro molto from Cello Concerto in C major: Hob. VIIb/1 September 29, 2024: Edward Arron, Carter Brey, Rafael Figueroa, and Zvi Plesser, cellos The discovery of Haydn’s C major Cello Concerto in 1961 among piles of manuscripts in the National Museum in Prague counts as one of the great musical finds of our time. With the Communist takeover of Czechoslovakia and Hungary after World War II, vast holdings from private libraries were carted away and deposited in the Museum, making them accessible to scholars—if they could wade through the enormous amount of uncatalogued material. The Cello Concerto was unearthed by O. Pulkert, one of the Museum’s librarians, as a set of manuscript parts once held by the counts of Kolovrat-Krakovský. Its authenticity was immediately confirmed by Haydn scholars, principally because of the entry in Haydn’s own Entwurf-Katalog, which included starting themes of his works. The first modern performance took place on May 19, 1962, by cellist Miloš Sádlo, with Charles Mackerras conducting the Czechoslovak Radio Symphony Orchestra. Haydn probably wrote the Concerto for Joseph Weigl, star cellist of the Esterházy orchestra from 1761 to 1769 and close friend of Haydn. Though the Concerto cannot be dated precisely, scholars have suggested c. 1761–65, based on its position in the catalog and the manuscript’s paper type. The Concerto’s opportunities for virtuosic display—like those of the solo cello parts in the three symphonies, “Le matin,” “Le midi,” and “Le soir”—speak well for Weigl’s skills as a cellist. Today’s version of the sparkling finale for four cellos, arranged by Douglas Moore, admirably allows the solo cello part to shine against the three-cello accompaniment, which itself emphasizes the instrument’s ability in range and varied character to mimic the entire orchestral accompaniment. A substantial opening tutti (section for the full ensemble) introduces the finale’s main theme, supported by repeated eighth notes, whose frequent recurrence provides much of the movement’s driving energy. The soloist’s entrance on a long held note eventually erupts into a rising scale. The movement contains no cadenza as had the first two movements, but the virtuosic writing in the solo episodes provides ample opportunity for display. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

December 15, 2024: THE VIRTUOSO FLUTIST. DENIS BOURIAKOV, FLUTE. A RECITAL FOR FLUTE AND ORCHESTRA, with Erin Bouriakov, Flute. Musicians From The New York Philharmonic. Michael Parloff, Conductor. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) Andante in C, K. 315 for flute and orchestra December 15, 2024: THE VIRTUOSO FLUTIST. DENIS BOURIAKOV, FLUTE. A RECITAL FOR FLUTE AND ORCHESTRA, with Erin Bouriakov, Flute. Musicians From The New York Philharmonic. Michael Parloff, Conductor. The lovely Andante in C major is considered a product of the Ferdinand Dejean commission (see above)—possibly a substitute for the slow movement of the G major Flute Concerto or as the slow movement of a third but abandoned concerto. Based on the paper type of the undated manuscript, scholars suggest a date of 1779 or 1780—just one or two years after Mozart furnished Dejean with the G major Concerto and the D major Concerto (adapted from the Oboe Concerto). However, the suggestion that Mozart composed the Andante because Dejean had requested a simpler movement for the G major Concerto does not stand up to scrutiny, since Dejean has been shown to be a very talented amateur. Further, we have seen that paper types, whose watermarks were sometimes forged, can be misleading in some dating. Whatever Mozart intended with the Andante, we are fortunate to have this lyrical gem, which has won its own place as a stand-alone concert piece. The movement unfolds in three sections, A-B-A, separated by orchestral interludes. In the final section Mozart provides the flutist with the opportunity to improvise a cadenza before the final utterance of the main theme. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

November 15, 2015 – Jeremy Denk, piano; Stefan Jackiw, violin CÉSAR FRANCK (1822-1890) Violin Sonata in A major, M. 8 November 15, 2015 – Jeremy Denk, piano; Stefan Jackiw, violin César Franck, organist at St. Clothilde and professor of organ at the Paris Conservatory, influenced a generation of composers including d’Indy, Chausson, Duparc, and Vierne, yet was not prolific himself as a composer. He was a late achiever par excellence: he completed his only Symphony when he was sixty-six, and he composed his memorable chamber works, the Piano Quintet and Violin Sonata, just several years before, with the String Quartet closely following the Symphony. There is no telling what he might have achieved had he not died in 1890 at age sixty-seven. Franck’s concern for thematic unity led to the use of what his disciple and enthusiastic champion Vincent d’Indy called the “cyclic” principle—the use of similar thematic material in two or more movements in the same work. D’Indy related Franck’s cyclic procedures to Beethoven, who may have been his inspiration, but Franck’s structural ideas have much more in common with those of Liszt and his practice of deriving an entire work from one musical idea. The opening theme begins with a three-note “generating cell,” as d’Indy called it, that permeates the work. Almost immediately Franck shows his penchant for changing keys. As a teacher of organ, with composition mixed in, Franck grew uneasy when any student remained too long in one key—“Modulate, modulate!” he would urge, which was known to exasperate Debussy, who studied briefly in his class. Formally the first movement is based on this and another main theme that occurs only in piano interludes; the subjects alternate while passing through myriad keys. The presentation of the thematic material in this fashion and the lack of development give the movement the feel either of a prologue or of an inner movement. Originally Franck had conceived the movement in a slow tempo, but changed it to Allegretto after hearing it played by violin virtuoso Eugène Ysaÿe, to whom the work is dedicated. Full-fledged sonata form is saved for the second movement, which employs a bit of the generating cell and also introduces another theme that will return in the finale. The brilliance of this Allegro movement contrasts nicely with the poetic first movement and with the rhapsodic third movement. This Recitativo-Fantasia sounds improvisatory at the outset as Franck ruminates upon the generating cell. The final Fantasia section is dominated by another theme that will reappear in the finale and ends with an unexpected harmonic turn. The finale is remarkable for the exact imitation between the violin and piano—one of the famous examples of canonic writing in the literature—which appears four times like a rondo refrain. The intervening episodes are based on the materials of the previous movements. The Sonata was apparently given as a wedding present to Ysaÿe, who first performed it with pianist Léontine Bordes-Pène as the last work on an all-Franck concert at the Musée Moderne de Peinture in Brussels on December 16, 1886. D’Indy described that memorable late afternoon performance: It was already growing dark as the Sonata began. After the first Allegretto, the players could hardly read their music. Unfortunately, museum regulations forbade any artificial light whatever in rooms containing paintings; the mere striking of a match would have been an offense. The audience was about to be asked to leave, but, brimful with enthusiasm, they refused to budge. At this point, Ysaÿe struck his music stand with his bow, demanding, “Let’s go on!” Then, wonder of wonders, amid darkness that now rendered them virtually invisible, the two artists played the last three movements from memory with a fire and passion the more astonishing in that there was a total lack of the usual visible externals that enhance a concert performance. Music, wondrous and alone, held sovereign sway in the blackness of night. The miracle will never be forgotten by those present. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

SCOTT STEVENS, PERCUSSION Scott Stevens has been a percussionist and timpanist with the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra since 1977. He received his degrees from The Juilliard School where he studied with Saul Goodman and Elden “Buster” Bailey. In the summers, Mr. Stevens is a member of the percussion faculty at the Interlochen Arts Camp, Interlochen, Michigan.

2021-2022 ARTIST ROSTER ISABELLA BIGNASCA, VIOLA Michael Brown, piano DAVID J. GROSSMAN, BASS PAUL JACOBS, ORGAN JAMES THOMPSON, VIOLIN PAUL NEUBAUER, VIOLA (2021) FRED SHERRY, CELLO ZUKERMAN TRIO KRISTIN LEE, VIOLIN MICHAEL PARLOFF, lecturer PAOLO BORDIGNON, HARPSICHORD NICHOLAS CANELLAKIS, CELLO MARC-ANDRÉ HAMELIN, PIANO NATHAN MELTZER, VIOLIN CLARA NEUBAUER, VIOLIN JUHO POHJONEN, PIANO ARNAUD SUSSMANN, VIOLIN PAUL HUANG, VIOLIN ANNA POLONSKY, PIANO JEANELLE BRIERLEY, VIOLIN ESCHER STRING QUARTET SIHAO HE, CELLO JOEL NOYES, CELLO OLIVER NEUBAUER, VIOLIN (2021) ROMAN RABINOVICH, PIANO DANBI UM, VIOLIN KEVIN ZHU, VIOLIN SCHUMANN STRING QUARTET

April 3, 2016: Ying Fang, soprano; Sir James Galway and Lady Jeanne Galway, flutes; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Paolo Bourdignon, harpsichord JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH (1685-1750) I follow you with Joyful Steps from St. John Passion for soprano, 2 flutes, and continuo April 3, 2016: Ying Fang, soprano; Sir James Galway and Lady Jeanne Galway, flutes; Nicholas Canellakis, cello; Paolo Bourdignon, harpsichord The St. John Passion has always stood somewhat in the shadow of the more extensive St. Matthew Passion, which is the work that reawakened public interest in Bach when Mendelssohn revived it in 1829. But the less elaborate St. John Passion, Bach’s first large-scale vocal work for Leipzig, holds it own well-deserved place in the repertoire. Passion performances alternated annually between the Nikolaikirche and the Thomaskirche, but Bach agreed to perform the St. John Passion in the Nikolaikirche, whose turn it was in 1724, only after they agreed to make more room in the choir loft and repair the harpsichord. He performed the work again the following year, after making revisions, in the larger Thomaskirche. In fact, a definitive version does not exist because he made further revisions for performances in 1732 and 1749. Bach (or his anonymous librettist) drew his text for the St. John Passion not only from St. John’s Gospel, but from the famous Passion poem by Barthold Heinrich Brockes, texts by Christian Heinrich Postel and Christian Weise, and even from St. Matthew’s Gospel. The work, like the St. Matthew Passion, tells the story of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion, and entombment through narrative from the Gospel text dispersed among recitatives of the Evangelist and Jesus, as well as lesser characters, and several brief choruses. These he intersperses with arias for personal reflection of believers and well-known chorale tunes with new harmonizations, framing the whole with monumental choruses. The lovely soprano aria “Ich folge dir gleichfalls mit freudigen Schritten” occurs in Part One following the Evangelist’s recitative narrating that Peter followed Jesus, and thus makes a believer’s personal statement that “I will follow likewise.” Bach represents this musically by having the voice enter and the flutes following together at a short interval. But the believer also needs Christ’s “drawing” and “shoving” to follow the right path, which Bach introduces through chromaticism and hesitations. The return of the joyful opening section rounds out the ternary form symmetrically. © Jane Vial Jaffe Text and Translation Ich folge dir gleichfalls mit freudigen Schritten Und lasse dich nicht, Mein Leben, mein Licht. Befördre den Lauf, Und höre nicht auf, Selbst an mir zu ziehen, zu schieben, zu bitten. —after Christian Weise I follow you likewise with joyful steps and will not leave you, my life, my light. Convey your path, and do not stop, continue to draw me, shove me, urge me on. Return to Parlance Program Notes

November 14, 2021 – Schumann String Quartet MAURICE RAVEL (1875-1937) String Quartet in F November 14, 2021 – Schumann String Quartet Incredible as it seems, Ravel’s efforts as a student at the Paris Conservatory and his attempts to win the prestigious Prix de Rome met with repeated rejection. His first dismissal from the Conservatory came in 1895 after he failed to win any piano prizes. He was dismissed again in 1900 when prizes in composition and fugue also eluded him. He nevertheless credited his teachers—Fauré in composition and Gédalge in composition—as major influences. He stayed on at the Conservatory as an auditor in Fauré’s class until 1903. Just as Ravel’s flouting of conservative counterpoint and harmony rules dogged his success at the Conservatory, it kept him from earning the Prix de Rome five times between 1900 and 1905. These utterly painful snubbings became known as the first “Affaire Ravel,” which ultimately led to the uncovering of a judging scandal and the replacement of the director of the Conservatory with the more tolerant Fauré. Against this backdrop of academic failure, however, Ravel was winning considerable public and critical support for his already mature-sounding compositions. Ravel’s only String Quartet, now one of the most beloved pieces in the chamber music repertoire, was the product of his last year of study with Fauré, to whom he dedicated it with affection. The Quartet’s glorious first movement was the submission that failed to win its composer the 1903 Prix. The first performance of the Quartet took place at the Société Nationale de Musique—a prestigious place indeed for a “failure”—on March 5, 1904, by the Heymann Quartet. The critics hotly contested the merits of the work, some considering it too derivative of Debussy and others boldly recognizing Ravel as one of the masters of the future. Obvious parallels exist between Debussy’s and Ravel’s Quartets—such as the shadowy accompanimental sixteenth-note figures in the first movement and the pizzicatos in the scherzo—but Ravel’s clarity of structure, innovative textures, and thematic transformations within and between movements bespeak his uniqueness. Despite a professional rivalry that became ugly in the press, Debussy is said to have written his younger colleague encouraging him to stand firm with exactly what he had composed. The warm pastoral theme of Ravel’s opening and a vigorous climax provide a wonderful foil for the soaring, haunting second theme played by the violin and viola paralleling one another two octaves apart. The composer drapes his inspired textures and colors over a transparent sonata framework. This form features some harmonic sleight of hand—when the haunting theme returns in the recapitulation, Ravel uses exactly the same notes in the upper three parts, but manages a change to the home key simply by raising the cello line. Like Debussy, Ravel places his Scherzo second. The younger composer uses contrasting meters between the outer and inner pairs of instruments, culminating in an insistent trill that blossoms into a plaintive melody over busy texture. The central trio slows to a moody, atmospheric meandering before the rhythmic pizzicato of the scherzo resumes. Ravel’s slow movement begins in the declamatory vein of a storyteller, whose muted narrative unfolds with alternating tension and serenity, periodically alluding to first-movement themes. A string of ingenious textures and ideas captivates the ear—delicate trills arising out of a gruff cello recitative, poignant melodies with rocking accompaniment or underlaid with rapid string crossings, and an exquisite peak followed by a nostalgic ebbing. The vigorous finale with its irregular 5/8 meter and juxtaposition of lyricism and insistent outbursts struck Fauré as “stunted, badly balanced, in fact a failure.” Time, however, has overruled his objections—the movement’s unsettled nature, its expressive transformations of first-movement material, and its whirlwind virtuosity are now deemed the perfect conclusion to a masterpiece. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

May 6, 2018: Kerry McDermott, violin; Paul Neubauer, viola MARK O’CONNOR F.C.’s Jig May 6, 2018: Kerry McDermott, violin; Paul Neubauer, viola Mark O’Connor has long embraced both folk and classical music, influenced by such giants as folk fiddler Benny Thomasson and jazz violinist Stephane Grappelli as well as classical icons Isaac Stern, Itzhak Perlman, Yehudi Menuhin, and Pinchas Zukerman. He has produced some forty-five feature albums—mostly of his own compositions—that have greatly influenced succeeding generations. O’Connor’s multiple Grammy-winning recordings include Appalachia Waltz with Yo-Yo Ma and Edgar Meyer, which was released in 1996 and topped the Billboard classical music charts for a year. The O’Connor Band, which he formed with family members and friends, received the 2017 Grammy Award for “Best Bluegrass Band” with its album Coming Home. His Fiddle Concerto, released on the Warner Bros. label in 1995, has been performed over 250 times, making it the most-performed modern violin concerto composed in the last half century. He has since gone on to write three other violin concertos, one of which is a double concerto that he premiered with Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg and the Chicago Symphony in 2000. At age thirteen O’Connor was the youngest person ever to win the Grand Master Fiddler Championships—competing against amateurs and professionals of all ages—and he is still the only person to have also won national titles on guitar and mandolin. Winner of a record-breaking six Country Music Association Musician of the Year awards, O’Connor has played with a number of influential bands, including the David Grisman Quintet, The Dregs, and Strength in Numbers. In his twenties he appeared on over five hundred albums with all of Nashville’s greatest artists. A dedicated educator, O’Connor has taught at string camps and universities across the country. In 2009 he released The O’Connor Method (2009), based on traditional American tunes, which has been hailed by the New Yorker and teachers across the country for filling a gap in the education of classical violin players. O’Connor’s F. C.’s Jig (short for “Fiddle Concerto’s Jig”) is a duet for violin and cello arranged from the third movement of his popular Violin Concerto. He and Yo-Yo Ma recorded this captivating arrangement on the album Appalachia Waltz. Colorful episodes alternate with the lively refrain, along the way incurring delightful metric hiccups. The piece is heard here in its equally engaging version for violin and viola, maintaining its witty and virtuosic interplay from start to finish. © Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes

DEMIAN AUSTIN, TROMBONE Demian Austin is principal trombonist of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra. He is also a member of the MET Chamber Ensemble, which performs regularly at Carnegie’s Weill and Zankel halls. He has performed with The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, and in the Mostly Mozart festival at Lincoln Center. Mr. Austin has played on numerous recordings including the Metropolitan Opera Brass CDs, several movie soundtracks, Dialogues with Double Bass with Jeremy McCoy on Bridge Records, the GM Recordings issue of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony and Brahms’ First Symphony conducted by Gunther Schuller, and many recordings with the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, including Strauss’ Tod und Verklarung. He can also be heard regularly on Sirius Satellite Radio’s Live at the Met Broadcasts, the Saturday Matinee Broadcasts of the Met, and on The Met: Live in HD worldwide movie simulcasts. At Juilliard he has been the Gordon Henderson Pre-College Trombone Faculty since 2009. He received his Bachelor of Music degree in 1992 from Oberlin College, where he studied with Raymond Premru, and his Masters of Music degree in 1995 from The Juilliard School, where he studied with Per Brevig. Aside from his career in music, Mr. Austin has a keen interest in film and has attended several intensive seminars on screenwriting.

May 12, 2024: Chee-Yun, violin; Brad Gemeinhardt, horn; Alessio Bax, piano Johannes Brahms Trio in E-flat, Op. 40 for violin, horn, and piano May 12, 2024: Chee-Yun, violin; Brad Gemeinhardt, horn; Alessio Bax, piano Johannes Brahms always loved the sound of the horn. Among many other instruments, his father, Johann Jakob, played horn professionally, in dance halls and taverns, and even substituted on horn in the sextet that played at the fashionable Alster Pavilion. Though he finally gave in to his young son’s pleas to learn piano, Johann Jakob had already begun teaching him “useful” instruments, in particular the Waldhorn—the natural, valveless horn, or “hand horn,” referring to the method of obtaining certain pitches by the positioning the right hand inside the bell. Valved horns rapidly became standard during Brahms’s lifetime, and the natural horn had fallen out of common use by the time he wrote his Horn Trio in May 1865 while sojourning in Baden-Baden. But he specifically wrote the piece for natural horn out of fondness for its sound, characterized by the muted quality of certain notes. Brahms may also have been thinking of his early home life—a theory that early biographer Max Kalbeck suggested—in particular since his mother had recently died. But, whereas the poignant slow movement could indeed serve as a memorial tribute, the complete rousting of that mood by the spirited, irreverent music of the finale suggests that the work as a whole is not entirely an homage to her. The two quotation sources that Kalback suggested to back his theory—the folk song “Dort in den Weide steht ein Haus,” which Brahms may have learned from his mother, and the chorale “Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten”—are certainly appropriate but do not comfortably correspond to the main theme of the finale and its preview near the end of the slow movement. Scholar John Walter Hill proposes a different folk-song source, which Brahms likely knew and which fits the finale’s main theme like a glove: “Es soll sich ja keiner mit der Liebe abgeben” (No one should have anything to do with love). This would shift Brahms’s thoughts, says Hill, to the end of his romantic involvement with Agathe von Siebold in the late 1850s. Brahms had broken off their relationship when it seemed they were headed for marriage, much to Agathe’s heartbreak, but he paid her tribute in his G major Sextet, op. 36, written around the same time as the Horn Trio. Either as a salve to his conscience, or as a farewell, Brahms had woven notes equivalent to the letters of her name into the Sextet’s first movement, composed in September 1864. He completed the Sextet in May 1865, so it is entirely likely that she was still on his mind as he wrote his Horn Trio in the same month. As Hill suggests, the comical jab at love by a confirmed bachelor makes a great deal of sense in light of the newly revealed folk-song source. No matter what extra-musical thoughts may have come to Brahms in 1865, the Horn Trio stands as an inspired piece of chamber music for the unusual combination of violin, horn and piano. Brahms played the piano part in a trial performance in September in Baden-Baden, and the first public performance took place in Zürich on November 28, 1865, with violinist Friedrich Hegar, horn player Anton Gläss, and Brahms himself at the piano. One of the Horn Trio’s greatest surprises, in view of Brahms’s supreme interest in sonata form, is that the first movement is the only example of a first movement in his multimovement works that is not in sonata form. Rather it contrasts a lovely melancholy main theme with two somewhat livelier sections, resulting in an A-B-A-B-A rondo-like pattern. The rollicking scherzo provides a perfect change of scene, racing along as if on the hunt but without characteristic horn fanfares. The soaring second theme and the lovely pathos of the trio section’s theme provide elegant contrast. The slow movement, one of Brahms’s most melancholy and moving utterances with its expansive melody, grave chords, and soulful bass notes, gives a taste of his much later Four Serious Songs. The canonic treatment of a new theme begun by the horn alone particularly shows Brahms in a nostalgic light and leads to one of his most glorious climaxes. The preview of the finale’s theme occurs just before that peak, nicely scored with the horn above the violin. The finale takes off at full gallop, perhaps the banishment of his last thoughts of Agathe, but surely reveling in the historical connection of the horn with the hunt. Here Brahms achieves an ebullient, rondo-like character but in a full-fledged sonata form. He delights in rhythmic play, bits of yearning, the occasional starry twinkle or growling bass, horn calls that are not typical fanfares in horn fifths, and—most exhilarating—a breathless drive to the close. —©Jane Vial Jaffe Return to Parlance Program Notes