BRISTOL ORCHESTRAL PLAYERS

Notes from Julian Dale about our Autumn 2024 Programme

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As always, most of this year's programme is made up of pieces requested by members of the orchestra.  

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Beethoven Symphony no. 3 in Eb, Op. 55, 'Eroica' (1804)

Goethe called Beethoven 'an utterly untamed personality, not altogether in the wrong in holding the world to be detestable'. He wrote some pretty or jolly things to make money or please particular patrons, but most of the time he followed his own path without compromise. A radically original work, sometimes considered to be the first Romantic symphony, the 3rd was a much larger work than his earlier two or indeed than any symphony yet written. Full of striking ideas, it still has a unique place in the repertoire. It is in the usual four movements, the slow 'funeral march' placed second.

 

Dvorak Symphony no. 9 in E minor, Op. 95, 'From the New World' (1893)

Always remembering his humble origins, Dvorak wrote of himself, 'I am just an ordinary Czech musician', but posterity hasn't accepted that view. He was very successful in the USA and composed this symphony during his time as director of the National Conservatory of Music in New York. Some of the themes were inspired by music he heard in America, especially songs of the recently-emancipated African Americans, but he didn't borrow any actual tunes. It was soon performed to acclaim around the world.  Still a great favourite with players and audiences, this was the first symphony to find its way, on tape, to the moon, courtesy of Neil Armstrong. It is in the usual four-movement form, the slow movement second.

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Notes from our Music Director, Nicola Ashton, about our 2025 Programme

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Schubert Rosamunde: Overture and Entr’actes

 

Music written in haste, for a play that closed after only two performances – and not even the overture that Schubert originally intended. The play Rosamunde, Princess of Cyprus certainly hasn’t stood the test of time – but fortunately, Schubert’s incidental music has.

 

Perhaps due to the tight deadline (the music was written in just a few short weeks), Schubert chose to ‘borrow’ an existing overture from an earlier opera: Alfonso and Estrella. When the collected music was finally published, some years after Schubert’s death, the publishers chose to make a swap. The finished suite was published along with Schubert’s overture to another earlier opera: Die Zauberharfe (The Magic Harp). We don’t know why – but this is the overture now firmly linked with Rosamunde, and the version we will play.

 

As for the Entr’actes  - to add a final note of mystery to proceedings, could Entr’acte 1 have originally been destined as the final movement to Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony? There’s a theory that it may have been - but of course, only Schubert knows!

 

Beethoven Coriolan Overture

 

Less mired in mystery, but bringing musical drama instead, a stormy and powerful overture written in 1807.  

 

Beethoven’s Coriolan Overture has also fared much better than the play it was written for:  a now obscure work by Heinrich Joseph von Collin (not the Shakesperean tragedy by the same name).

 

Through the two main themes of the overture, Beethoven portrays Coriolan’s dramatic attempt to seek revenge on Rome and his mother’s plea for him to turn back. The overture concludes with a weak and fragmented version of Coriolan’s stormy opening theme, reflecting his tragic and fated demise.

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Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 6

 

Written in 1893 and premiered just 9 days before Tchaikovsky’s death, this is a symphony full of raw emotion and mystery. Tchaikovsky himself hinted that this was a symphony with a story -  but one which he would leave as a riddle for the listener to figure out. Whatever meaning the symphony carries, it’s certainly a rollercoaster of emotions. 

 

After ripping up his first attempt at a 6th symphony, Tchaikovsky found new inspiration and declared the result ‘quite the best - and certainly the most sincere - of all my works’. The name ‘Pathétique’ was later given to the symphony by Tchaikovsky’s brother. It’s worth bearing in mind that the meaning of the original Russian is a little different from the French - implying passion and emotion rather than pity and melancholy. Either way, it is a symphony which takes us on a journey through a huge range of emotions. 

 

The first movement opens in a quiet and brooding mood,  but soon explodes into all-out drama—big emotions, sweeping melodies, shocking contrasts. The second movement switches mood, with a quirky, slightly off-balance 5/4 “waltz.” The third movement starts like a scherzo but turns into a victory march—bold, fast, and triumphant. And as for the final movement: rather than a triumphant ending, we meet a heartbreaking adagio which fades into silence.  

 

Nine days after conducting the premiere, Tchaikovsky was dead from cholera after drinking infected water. We’ll never know whether Tchaikovsky’s death was accidental, or a deliberate act from a composer whose life was certainly troubled. Because of this, it is easy for the symphony to get swept along in legend, seen as Tchaikovsky’s final farewell - despite his assertion that ‘the ultimate essence […] of this symphony is life’. However you interpret it, Tchaikovsky himself said he had put his ‘whole soul’ into the work, and it is without doubt one of the great works of the Romantic era. 

 

Faure - Masques et Bergamasques Suite

 

The four movements of the ‘Masques et Bergamasques Suite’ were drawn from music that Faure was commissioned to write in 1919 for a staged dance performance of the same name. The performance was inspired by the Paul Verlaine poem ‘Clair de Lune’ (yes, also the inspiration for a certain work by Debussy!). The suite’s title is drawn from a line in the poem; a play on words which works much better in French. A ‘masque’ is a masked ball (or the music for it) and a ‘bergamasque’ is a folk dance from Bergamo in Northern Italy. 

 

The suite comprises four movements from the incidental music. A bright,  dancing Overture, evoking opening scenes as the stage is set. A formal, delicate Menuet, a light and bouncing Gavotte, and finally a closing, dream-like Pastorale. The first three movements were orchestrations of piano works Faure wrote much earlier in his career, and only the final Pastorale was written specifically for the stage show. All four movements are short, evocative and enchanting, with a sense of nostalgia. 

 

Brahms Serenade No. 1 for Orchestra 

 

Originally written for a nine-piece chamber ensemble, the orchestration of this Serenade was Brahms’ first major work for full orchestra. We know that the weight of expectations and the prospect of following in Beethoven’s symphonic footsteps weighed heavily on Brahms, and he once declared that he would never break through this to write a symphony. That said, throughout his work orchestrating the music, Brahms referred to the piece as his ‘Symphony-Serenade’, only settling on Serenade once he had added further movements. 

 

It is a work of warm melodies and energetic folk dances - but anchored around a wonderful and emotional Adagio worthy of any of Brahms’ four symphonies. The writing is symphonic in all but name. Might this work be better known if Brahms had decided to craft it as a symphony rather than a serenade? It certainly deserves to be played more often!

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Vivaldi (arr. Julian Dale)  Serenade for Cello and Orchestra

Notes written by Julian Dale (arranger)

 

John Hawkins, friend and biographer of Dr Johnson, wrote in 1776, ‘The peculiar characteristic of Vivaldi's music is that it is wild and irregular.’ A contemporary noted, ‘[Vivaldi] has a prodigious fury for composition. I heard him undertake to compose a concerto... with greater dispatch than a copyist can copy it’. Considering he composed so much music (over 500 concertos, for example) the standard is remarkably high. His works for cello are popular with players, though not widely known to the public.

 

Unfortunately, none of Vivaldi's music is a good ‘fit’ for a modern orchestra, but this Serenade has been tailored specially for BOP. It is based on a sonata for cello and continuo in E minor, composed sometime in the 1720s. There are four short movements: slow, fast, slow, fast. On this occasion the solo part will be shared by our two fine front-desk cellists, Sarah Burns and Carrie Martin.

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