Program Notes – Romeo and Juliet, November 4, 2023
Concerto in B Minor for Violoncello and Orchestra, Op. 104
Antonín Dvořák (1841–1904)
Written: 1894–95
Movements: Three
Style: Romantic
Duration: 40 minutes
When Mrs. Jeannette Thurber lured Antonín Dvořák to New York to head her new National Conservatory of Music, she hoped that he would show American students a thing or two about how to compose in a nationalistic style. He did—and learned a thing or two from the Americans as well. His African-American student Henry Burleigh sang spirituals for him. One of those spirituals, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” ended up in the second movement of his New World Symphony. And it was the Irish-born, German-trained, American cellist Victor Herbert who showed Dvořák that writing a concerto for cello was possible. Before meeting Herbert, Dvořák felt that The cello is a beautiful instrument, but its place is in the orchestra and in chamber music. As a solo instrument, it isn’t much good. Its middle register is fine—that’s true—but the upper voice squeaks and the lower growls.
When Dvořák heard Victor Herbert’s new Second Cello Concerto, he loved it! More importantly, Dvořák was convinced that it is possible to hear the cello over an orchestra, even one with trombones. Eight months later Dvořák started his own cello concerto. It was the last piece he wrote while in America.
The concerto begins as most do, with the orchestra playing the dramatic main theme by itself. The French horn gets to play the lyrical second theme. Finally, the cello gets a chance at both. The central part of this movement focuses primarily on working through various aspects of the first theme. When it comes time for the expected restatement of both themes, Dvořák does the unexpected. He omits the main theme and takes us directly to the second and then to a joyous conclusion.
The slow movement begins tenderly with the clarinets and then the solo cello. After a short time with this beautiful theme, the entire orchestra crashes in. The cello then plays a moving melody based on a song, “Leave Me Alone,” which Dvořák wrote many years earlier. It was a favorite of his sister-in-law, and he included it in the concerto when he learned that she was seriously ill. After an extensive time dwelling on this tune, the movement returns to the opening theme. The cellist then launches into what is almost an accompanied cadenza. After another statement of the song, there is a peaceful close.
The finale is a rondo, which uses a main theme that alternates with secondary themes called episodes. After an orchestral introduction, the cello gets the main tune. Both of the central episodes are slower and more rhapsodic in character. The final statement of the main theme brings us to the ending section. Just as the orchestra winds up to what appears will be a grand climax complete with a cadenza for the soloist, Dvorak changes course and winds down. He had just learned of his sister-in-law’s death. Dvořák explained the ending to his publisher:
The finale closes gradually diminuendo—like a sigh—with reminiscences of the first and second movements—the solo dies away to pianissimo—then swells again—the last bars are taken up by the orchestra and the whole concludes in a stormy mood.
Johannes Brahms was in a stormy mood also when, in the last year of his life, he read the score to Dvořák’s Cello Concerto. “Why on earth didn’t I know one could write a cello concerto like this?” he said. “If I’d only known, I’d have written one long ago!”
Selections from “Romeo and Juliet,” Op. 64
Sergei Prokofiev (1891–1953)
Written: 1935–36
Movements: Ten
Style: 20th Century Russian
Duration: 40 minutes
During Russia’s revolutionary war years, many artists and composers fled their country. The United States was the beneficiary when composers like Rachmaninoff and Stravinsky settled here. Sergei Prokofiev was in Russia when Lenin and the Bolsheviks seized power, but in 1918 left for the United States. Prokofiev spent four miserable years in the U.S. from 1918 until 1922, and then he moved to Paris. In spite of numerous artistic successes, he missed his homeland and his friends. He began to visit the Soviet Union more and more frequently. By 1933, he had an apartment in Moscow and in 1936, he settled there permanently with his family. He became a Soviet citizen.
Prokofiev was either optimistic or terribly naive about artistic prospects in the Soviet Union. His arrival coincided with new edicts passed down from the Communist Party Central Committee recommending “general guidelines” for composers. They were to “pay heed to the social content of their music and appeal to the people at large; as a basis for this idiom they might look to the traditions of the past and to the folk resources within the USSR.” These rather innocuous principles lead to full-scale persecution of composers. In 1948 Prokofiev’s music was condemned as “marked with formalist perversions and alien to the Soviet People.”
Prokofiev wrote some of his most endearing works during the first few years back in the Soviet Union: Lieutenant Kije Suite (1934―drawn from his music for a film), the lush and romantic Second Violin Concerto (1935) and the children’s blockbuster Peter and the Wolf (1936). It was during these years that he also wrote the stunningly beautiful score for the ballet Romeo and Juliet. Composing the work seemed to be easy for Prokofiev; it took him only four months. However, the ending caused him some trouble. “Living people can dance,” Prokofiev said, “the dying cannot.” So, he wrote in a happy ending, with Romeo arriving just in time! When he presented the score to the Kirov Ballet, they rejected it out of hand claiming that it was unsuitable for dancing. Prokofiev made some revisions and, fortunately, restored the proper ending. Even so, the ballet would not appear on the Soviet stage until 1940; it fell victim to political machinations at the theater. Frustrated at not getting the ballet staged, Prokofiev extracted some of the music from the ballet for two orchestral suites. The Russian public heard these suites a full four years before seeing the danced version! Tonight’s concert draws selections from both suites.
The music wonderfully paints the characters and action of the drama. You’ll hear the fierce rivalry between the two families in Montagues and Capulets and the innocence and charm of a Young Juliet. Guests to a lavish ball make their entrance during the Minuet. Masques portrays the audacious arrival of Romeo and company. (The Madrigal appears during the festivities as a sort of romantic interlude. In today’s concert it appears after The Young Juliet.) The famous balcony scene is the tender music in Romeo and Juliet. The Death of Tybalt describes both the fight between the youths and the anguished cries from the Capulet clan over their dead son. Friar Laurence depicts a rather doddering old priest giving his blessing to the young couple. The ballet’s tragic conclusion comes in Romeo and Juliet Before Parting and Romeo at the grave of Juliet.
As with much new music, critics condemned Romeo and Juliet for having no melody or feeling. Prokofiev responded to those critics: “In Romeo and Juliet I have taken special pains to achieve a simplicity which will, I hope, reach the hearts of all listeners. If people find no melody and no emotion in this work, I shall be very sorry. But I feel sure that sooner or later they will.” You will.
©2023 John P. Varineau