This Week in Classical Music: November 11, 2024.  Leonid Kogan.  The Soviet Union was obsessed with rankings, which were applied (or assumed) in many areas.  Within the power structures, there was of course, the one and only Secretary General of the Communist party; in city planning, Moscow was number one and treated differently than any other city.  The same applied to the arts.  There had to be a best ballerina (Ulanova first, then Plisetskaya), and even in music, the same rankings applied.  After Stalin’s death, Shostakovich was officially considered the greatest living composer.  There had to be pianist number one (Sviatoslav Richter), but also pianist number two (Emil Gilels), same for the violin or cello (Rostropovich as cellist number one, Daniil Shafran number two).  The ranking among the violinists was this: David Oistrakh – number one, Leonid Kogan – number two.  Oistrakh was, undisputable, a great violinist, but so was Kogan, and looking from the outside, these rankings look silly, but such was the nature of Sovietsociety, where fuzzy diversity – whether of ideas or tastes – was not welcome. 

November 14^th marks Leonid Kogan’s 100^th anniversary. He was born into a Jewish family in Ekaterinoslav, now Dnepr, in Ukraine.  He studied in Moscow, first in the Central Music school, then in the Conservatory, in both places with Abram Yampolsky, the great Russian violin teacher (Yampolsky was so taken by his talented pupil that, for a while, he housed him in his small apartment).  Kogan’s virtuosity became obvious very early, but, unlike many young musicians, he also demonstrated deep insights into the music he played.  At the age of 16 he played Brahm’s violin concerto, and at 20, while still a student at the conservatory, he was given the official position of a soloist at the Moscow Philharmonic Organization, the body responsible for managing the careers of professional musicians and organizing concerts not only in the capital but in many other cities of the country.  With that, Kogan embarked on several tours of the Soviet Union.  In 1947 he shared the first prize at the Prague youth competition, and in 1949 he played all of Paganini’s 24 Caprices in one evening.  In 1951 he won the prestigious Queen Elisabeth competition in Brussels and in 1955 he was allowed to play concerts in Paris (at that time, only very few Soviet musicians were allowed to travel to Western Europe or the US, Sviatoslav Richter’s first tour, to the US, happened only in 1960).  The Paris concerts were very successful, and Kogan, not well known in the West at the time since most of his recordings were made by the Soviet firm “Melodia” and unavailable outside the Iron Curtain, became famous.  Other Western tours followed: South America in 1956, and then, in 1957-59, the tour of North America.  As Howard Taubman wrote of his concert at Carnegie Hall, “He left no doubt of the exceptional subtlety and refinement of his art. If the men in the Kremlin will forgive the expression, Mr. Kogan played like an aristocrat.” 

Kogan, who loved large-form pieces, also played chamber music.  The Gilels-Kogan-Rostropovich trio performed for about 10 years and made numerous recordings.  Kogan was married to Elizaveta Gilels, sister of pianist Emil Gilels and also a student of Abram Yampolsky.  Kogan died of a heart attack on December 17^th of 1982, age 58, just outside of Moscow while traveling by train to give a concert in a provincial city. 

Brahm’s Violin concerto was one of Kogan’s favorites.  He performed it often, with different orchestras, and many recordings are available, for example, two from 1967, one with the Moscow Philharmonic and another with the Philharmonia Orchestra of London, both conducted by Kirill Kondrashin.  We like the one he made in 1959, even if its recording quality is not great.  Again, Leonid Kogan plays with the Philharmonia Orchestra and again Kirill Kondrashin is conducting (here). 

This Week in Classical Music: November 4, 2024.  Couperin and performers.  François Couperin, called “Le Grand” to distinguish him from the lesser but still talented members of his extended musical family, was born in Paris on November 10^th of 1668 during the reign of Louis XIV.  With Jean-Baptiste Lully and Jean-Philippe Rameau, Couperin was one of the three greatest French composers of the Baroque era and we have written about him on many occasions, for example here.  The French culture of the period was in many ways indebted to Italy (and so was its food: Catherine de' Medici, the Italian wife of King Henry II and mother of kings Francis II, Charles IX, and Henry III, taught the French how to cook).  Lully, a founding father of French classical music, was Italian by birth and a major influence on all French composers who followed him; Couperin was also influenced by Arcangelo Corelli.  This of course in no way dеtracts from Couperin’s great talent and individuality, it is just a historical fact that music in Italy was much more developed than in late-17^th century France.  Interestingly, this relationship didn’t last long: the French music school continued developing, especially in the 19^th and 20^th centuries, whereas Italian music languished, except for opera.  Couperin freely admitted the influence, pronouncing later in his life that he wanted to create a “union” between French and Italian music.  

Couperin was famous as an organist and clavier player and wrote much for both instruments: he published four volumes of harpsichord music containing more than 200 pieces, many with very evocative titles but sometimes so vague that they remain poorly understood.  He also published a book of organ music.  We, on the other hand, will listen to one of his trio sonatas, which was not just influenced by but dedicated to Corelli.  It’s called Le Parnasse ou L'Apothéose de Corelli and consists of seven movements.  Each movement has a separate (and long) title, such as Corelli at the foot of Mount Parnassus asks the Muses to welcome him amongst them (movement 1) or Corelli, enchanted by his favorable reception at Mount Parnassus, expresses his joy. He proceeds with his followers (movement 2).  It’s performed by the Musica Ad Rhenum (here). 

Two pianists were born on November 5^th, György Cziffra, whom we recently heard playing Liszt when we celebrated the composer’s birthday, in 1921, and Walter Gieseking, in 1895.  A German, Gieseking excelled in playing the music of two French composers, Debussy and Ravel.  And yet another musician was born on November 5^th: the Hungarian-American violinist Joseph Szigeti, in 1892. 

Also born this week: Ivan Moravec, a Czech pianist, on November 9^th of 1930.  Moravec studied with Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, traveled widely, even while Czechoslovakia was part of the Soviet bloc, and was known as a supreme interpreter of Chopin. 

This Week in Classical Music: October 28, 2024.  Dittersdorf.   Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf, an Austrian with a funny-sounding name, was a serious composer.  Born Carl Ditters in Vienna on November 2^nd of 1739, he acquired the noble title “von Dittersdorf” years later, while serving at the court of the Prince-Bishop of Breslau.  His full surname became Ditters von Dittersdorf and since then he has been known as Dittersdorf.  As a child, Carl studied the violin, and as a boy of 11, he was recruited to the orchestra of Prince Sachsen-Hildburghausen, one of the best in Vienna.  When the prince left Vienna and disbanded his orchestra, Carl found employment with Count Giacomo Durazzo, director of Burgtheater, the imperial court theatre.  Ditters played in the Burgtheater orchestra and soloed, often playing his own violin concertos.  By that time a recognized virtuoso and composer, he accompanied Christoph Willibald Gluck on a trip to Italy.  In 1765 he left the Burgtheater to accept the position of Kapellmeister for the Bishop of Grosswardein, succeeding Michael Haydn, Franz Joseph’s younger brother.  He stayed there for four years, composing orchestral music and operas for the court theater. 

In 1769, after the bishop got into legal troubles, Ditters found employment with Count Schaffgotsch, Prince-Bishop of Breslau (now Wrocław, Poland, at that time a part of Silesia).  The prince lived in exile in the castle of Johannisberg and built a theater next to it.  Ditters, for all purposes a Kapellmeister except for the title, was tasked with improving the court orchestra, hiring the singers, and composing operas.  During that time (in 1772) Ditters’ employer successfully petitioned Empress Maria-Theresia to have Ditters ennobled; thus, he became “von Dittersdorf.”  Through trials and tribulations (in 1778 Austrian politics forced the prince to flee Johannisberg, leaving the composer to administer part of his estate), Dittersdorf continued to manage the orchestra and compose.  While Schaffgotsch was out of the picture, Dittersdorf offered some of his operas to Prince Esterházy, Haydn’s employer. 

With the prince temporarily gone and musical life in Johannisberg in decline, Dittersdorf spent much of his time in Vienna.  His oratorio Giob, the twelve symphonies, and the opera Der Apotheker und der Doktor (here is the Overture and the first scene) were all well received.   In 1785, while in Vienna, he played a quartet with Franz Joseph Haydn, Mozart, and his pupil, Johann Baptist Wanhal (Dittersdorf played the first violin, Haydn the second violin, while Mozart played the viola).  Dittersdorf returned to Johannisberg in 1787, but musical life there was in shambles.  Dittersdorf attempted to find a position with Friedrich Wilhelm II of Prussia, who liked his music, but an offer never came.  He was formerly dismissed from Johannisberg in 1785.  By the end of his life, Dittersdorf, penniless and suffering from gout, continued to compose; some of his best work was written during those years.  He died in 1779 in the castle of one of his patrons. 

Dittersdorf was a prolific composer of concertos, operas, symphonies, oratorios and chamber music.  Some of his concertos were written for unusual instruments: for example, there are four (!) concertos for the double bass.  Let’s listen to one of them, Concerto no. 2 for Double Bass and orchestra.  Ödön Rácz is the soloist, he plays with the Franz Liszt Chamber Orchestra. 

This Week in Classical Music: October 21, 2024.  Lieberson and corrections.  Last week our calendar got very much confused: we celebrated Franz Liszt, though his birthday, October 22^nd, happens this week.  There’s nothing wrong with celebrating Liszt early and often, so we’ll do it this week by playing one of his greatest compositions, the B minor Sonata.  It’s a magnificent, grand Romantic piece, extremely popular in the early to mid-20th century when it was considered central to any virtuoso’s repertoire; it’s not played as often these days and its importance, so obvious before, is not as apparent.  A one-movement piece, it is technically difficult and complex in structure.  Liszt completed it in 1853 (the first sketches were written in 1842); it was premiered not by Liszt but Hans von Bülow, his student, in 1857.  The sonata is dedicated to Robert Schumann, in return for Schumann dedicating his Fantasy in C major to Liszt some years earlier (Schumann died in 1856, between the Sonata’s completion and its premier).  There are scores of excellent performances of the Sonata, so it’s nearly impossible to select the “best” one.  Some recordings are more popular than others, for example, Krystian Zimerman’s from 1990 (and it’s indeed very good).  And so are the recordings by Martha Argerich, Yuja Wang and Marc-André Hamelin.  We’ll play an older recording, made live by the great pianist Sviatoslav Richter.  He played it at the Aldeburgh Festival on June 21^st of 1966 in the Aldeburgh parish church.  We think it’s a profound performance.  

The American composer Peter Lieberson was born on October 26^th of 1946 in New York.  He studied composition with Milton Babbitt and Charles Wuorinen, some of the most “modernist” of American composers but his own music is much more tuneful.  Lieberson wrote several concertos (three for the piano, one each for the horn, viola, and cello), an opera, and many chamber pieces, but he’s best remembered for his two song cycles, Rilke Songs for mezzo-soprano and piano, composed in 2001 and, from 2005, Neruda Songs for mezzo and orchestra.  Both cycles were written for his wife, the wonderful mezzo Loraine Hunt Lieberson.  Here, from the Rilke cycle, O ihr Zärtlichen (Oh you, tender ones).  Loraine Hunt Lieberson is accompanied by Peter Serkin.  And here is another song from the same cycle, Atmen, du unsichtbares Gedicht! (Breathe, you invisible poem!).  It’s performed by the same artists. 

Loraine Hunt Lieberson died from breast cancer in 2006 at the age of 52.  Shortly after her death, Peter Lieberson was diagnosed with lymphoma.  He continued to compose till the end of his life.  Peter Lieberson died on April 23^rd of 2011. 

This Week in Classical Music: October 14, 2024.  Liszt and much more.  Even though this week overflows with talent, we’ll be brief.  First and foremost, Franz Liszt was born on October 22^nd of 1811 in Doborján, a small village in the Kingdom of Hungary, then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  Now it’s a town called Raiding which lies in Austria.  Liszt is considered Hungary’s national composer, though he never spoke Hungarian.  His first language was German, he moved to Paris at the age of 12 and preferred to speak French for the rest of his life.  But Hungarians have lived in Doborján for centuries, and Liszt was exposed to Hungarian music as a child.  Even though Liszt was a thoroughly German composer heavily involved in German musical life, he used Hungarian (and Gipsy) tunes in many compositions, starting with many versions of Rákóczi-Marsch, the Hungarian national anthem at the time, to Hungarian Rhapsodies, nineteen of them for the piano, of which he later orchestrated six (or eight, but there are doubts about two of the orchestrations), to the symphonic poem Hungaria, and other pieces. Here is Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody no. 1, performed by Gyrgy (Georges) Cziffra, the great Hungarian pianist of Romani descent.  The recording, later remastered, was originally made in 1957. 

Alexander von Zemlinsky, a very interesting Austrian composer whose music is rarely performed these days, was born on October 14^th of 1871 in Vienna.  Zemlinsky was central to the musical life of Vienna at the end of the 19^th – early 20^th century.  He knew “everybody,” from Brahms and Mahler to Schoenberg; you can read more in one of our earlier posts here. 

Luca Marenzio, an Italian composer of the Renaissance famous for his madrigals, was born in Northern Italy on October 18th, 1553.  A century and a quarter later, on October 16^th of 1679, the Czech composer Jan Dismas Zelenka was born near Prague. From 1709 to 1716 he worked in Dresden, first for Baron von Hartig and then for the royal court.  He then moved to Vienna, later returning to the Dresden court.  Zelenka knew Johann Sebastian Bach, who highly valued his music.  Here are Lamentations for Maundy Thursday, from Zelenka’s The Lamentations of Jeremiah the Prophet.  Jana Semerádová conducts Collegium Marianum. 

A quarter of a century later, on October 18^th of 1706, Baldassare Galuppi, was born on the island of Burano, next to Venice.  He authored many operas, both comical, written to librettos of the playwright Carlo Goldoni, and “serious” (seria), often collaborating with Metastasio, one of the most famous librettists of the 18^th century. 

Finally, two Americans: Charles Ives, the most original American composer of the early 20^th century, on October 20^th of 1874, and Ned Rorem, on October 23^rd of 1923.  Ives’s 150^th anniversary calls for a separate entry and we’ll do it soon. 

This Week in Classical Music: October 7, 2024.  Schütz and more.   Heinrich Schutz, the greatest German Renaissance predecessor of Johann Sebastian Bach, was born on October 8^th of 1585 in Bad Köstritz, Thuringia.  When Heinrich was five, his family moved to Weissenfels, where his father inherited an inn and became a mayor.   Heinrich demonstrated musical talent from a very early age.  In 1598, Maurice, the landgrave of Hesse-Kasse, a tiny principality then part of the Holy Roman Empire, stayed overnight in the family inn and heard Heinrich sing.   Maurice, himself a musician and composer, was so impressed that he invited Heinrich to his court to study music and further his education (while at the court, Heinrich learned several languages, including Latin, Greek and French).   Heinrich sang as a choir boy till his voice broke and then went to study law at Marburg.  In 1609 he traveled to Venice to study music with Giovanni Gabrieli.  Even though Gabrieli was 28 years older than Schütz, they became close friends (Gabrieli left him one of his rings when he died).  The master died in 1612 and Schütz returned to Kassel.  In 1614 the Elector of Saxony asked Schütz to come to Dresden.  The famous Michael Praetorius was nominally in charge of music-making at the court but he had other responsibilities, so the elector was interested in Schütz’s service.  Schütz moved to Dresden permanently in 1615.  In 1619 he received the title of Hofkapellmeister.  Soon after he published his first major work, Psalmen Davids (Psalms of David), a collection of 26 settings of psalms influenced, as one can hear, by Gabrieli.   Here’s Psalm 128, “Wohl dem, der den Herren fürchte.”  Cantus Cölln and Concerto Palatino are conducted by Konrad Junghänel.

Schütz lived in Dresden for the rest of his life, making periodic extended trips: in 1628 he went to Venice where he met Claudio Monteverdi who became a big influence.  He also made several trips to Copenhagen, composing for the royal court.  Schütz lived a long life: he died on November 6^th of 1672 at the age of 87.  Schütz composed mostly sacred choral music, although in 1627 he wrote what is considered the first German opera, Dafne.  Even though the libretto survived, the score was lost years ago.  Here’s one of Schütz’s Kleine Geistliche Konzerte (Little Sacred Concertos), composed in 1636.  It’s called Bone Jesu Verbum Patris (Good Jesus, word of the Father).  Tölzer Knabenchors is conducted by Gerhard Schmidt-Gaden.

Also this week: Giulio Caccini, a very important, if mostly forgotten Italian composer of the transitional period between the Renaissance and the Baroque, was born on October 8^th of 1551, probably in Rome.  A very popular “Ave Maria,” attributed to Caccini, was written by Vladimir Vavilov, a Russian guitarist, lutenist, composer and musical prankster who published several compositions ascribing them to composes of different eras.  In 1970 Melodia issued an LP, “The Lute Music of the 16^th and 17^th Centuries” performed by Vavilov.  Eight out of ten pieces were composed by him rather than composers indicated on the sleeve.   Francesco da Milano, a lutenist and composer of the early 16^th century, was Vavilov’s “favorite”: he composed six pieces, including a widely performed “Canzona,” and attributed all of them to the Italian.