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Program notes - "Love
Bade Me Welcome": |
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A Note from the Artistic Director On the negative side, however, it has limited his reputation to that of a mere folksong arranger, or a composer of accessible ditties, or an artist limited in his mode of expression to the simply popular, or even as “easy listening.” The harsh criticism of an unsympathetic contemporary that his music is “altogether like a cow looking over a gate” is unfortunate in that it ignores that part of Vaughan Williams’ output (admittedly, the less performed portion) that was at the forefront of the avant garde of his generation. Even among classical music aficionados, for instance, how many can claim to have heard more than one of his nine symphonies in a recording, much less a live performance? Among singers, how many have performed an RVW folksong arrangement, or one of his hymns, but not the highly difficult and esoteric “Silence and Music,” or “Valiant for Truth?” But the above criticism also fails to recognize that, even in his folksong arrangements, or such popular works as his “Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis” or “The Lark Ascending,” one encounters an artist of incredible emotional depth and musical craftsmanship – not just a sympathetic old Englishman in a crumpled tweed suit. We hear both Vaughan Williams’s this evening, in this tribute coming 50 years after his death in August, 1958. We hear the popular and stirring RVW in the “Fantasia on Greensleeves,” and “Five Mystical Songs” – and many of you will rightfully find these works to your preference, being immediately accessible, forthright, and utterly effective in their playing of your heartstrings. But we will also turn to the less-heard RVW – the questing agnostic who was not sure either that life was ultimately worth the effort, or that mankind was headed in the right direction. The “Three Shakespeare Songs” are from very late in his life, and one can almost hear the anguish expressed in the previous sentence exuding from “The Cloud-Capp’d Tow’rs,” for instance, especially with its ominous shift from major to minor on the very last chord. In Flos campi, too, even though it was written at an earlier period in his life, he turns to a highly dissonant, esoteric mode of expression in trying to depict the mysteries of sexuality and romantic love – perhaps owing to his own personal frustration in being married to an invalid wife during that period in his life when his own sexuality would have been in fullest flower. The dark melancholy of the solo viola – often juxtaposed with the plaintive sound of the oboe – and the mystical quality of a wordless chorus combine to depict a man conflicted about the supposed joys of physical love. Also heard tonight is the world premiere of a work commissioned and written expressly for tonight’s concert by Terry Schlenker. You may ask, why perform the world premiere of a new piece in a concert dedicated to a man now gone 50 years? Two reasons: 1) To show that RVW’s influence still lives on, as Terry has often said that the music of Vaughan Williams was a major inspiration for him as a young man, and continues to influence him now; and 2) To be a living tribute to the man who has captivated so many listeners across the globe over this last century, by asking a modern composer to channel the latter’s compositional spirit. Terry does so magnificently in “The Waking,” where the chorus sings a haunting, largely unison and angular melody over a complicated and pulsing orchestral accompaniment. That “The Waking” and Flos campi have been placed together in this concert is no accident, and it is hoped that you will hear reflections of one in the other, thus bringing full circle this cycle of birth, life, and death in the works of two distinct individual composers.
Timothy J. Krueger |