Sticky Notes: The Classical Music Podcast

I had such a wonderful time joining the jazz podcast You'll Hear It! We talked about the meeting of jazz and classical music, a topic I've explored before, but never in this much depth and never with so much input from jazz musicians and experts like Peter Martin and Adam Maness. We talk about great jazz and classical composers, but we also talk about the strange divide between jazz musicians and classical musicians, trying to break down the barriers that exist between purveyors of these wonderful genres of music. I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I did!  

In the mid-1920s, Maurice Ravel wrote a letter to the legendary composition teacher Nadia Boulanger. Boulanger’s class was a mecca for composers, both young and old, and musicians from all over the world vied to study with her. But Ravel’s letter wasn’t on his own behalf. Instead, he urged Boulanger to take on a young student whom Ravel himself had declined to teach. He wrote: "There is a musician here endowed with the most brilliant, most enchanting, and perhaps the most profound talent: George Gershwin. His worldwide success no longer satisfies him, for he is aiming higher. He knows that he lacks the technical means to achieve his goal. In teaching him those means, one might ruin his talent. Would you have the courage, which I wouldn’t dare have, to undertake this awesome responsibility?" Boulanger also declined to take Gershwin as a student, fearing, like Ravel, that she might damage his spontaneity and dynamic jazz sensibility. Whether or not the famous story is true (that Ravel turned down Gershwin’s request to study with him by saying, “Why be a second-rate Ravel when you are a first-rate Gershwin?”) we may never know. But the two composers were friendly, and formed something of a mutual admiration society. Today, in this fourth collaboration with G. Henle Publishers in honor of their Ravel and Friends project, we’re going to explore the connections between these two great composers: their friendship, their mutual influence, and the profound ways jazz infused itself into Ravel’s music, particularly in his Violin Sonata and Piano Concerto in G. From the moment he discovered it, Ravel adored jazz, and like many French composers of the time, allowed its influence to permeate his work in ways both explicit and subtle. Join us!  

There is a special category when it comes to Beethoven; a catalogue that doesn’t include complete symphonies, sonatas, concerti, string quartets, etc., but just single movements. This is the catalogue of great Beethoven slow movements. Beethoven’s slow movements are like a great Tolstoy novel. They span the gamut of human experience and also reach beyond it, into something we cannot understand but all somehow perceive. Simply put, Beethoven often seems to know us better than we know ourselves. This brings me to the slow movement of Beethoven’s Hammerklavier Sonata. Unlike those late quartet slow movements, the slow movement of the Hammerklavier is not about ecstatic contemplation. Instead, it is a movement of pure and profound despair. It has been described as “a mausoleum of the collective suffering of the world,” and “the apotheosis of pain, of that deep sorrow for which there is no remedy, and which finds expression not in passionate outpourings, but in the immeasurable stillness of utter woe.” This is not a movement I would necessarily enter into lightly as you go about your day—it requires you to take a moment and enter a world unlike any other. Today, in Part 2 of this Patreon-sponsored exploration of this great, in all senses of the word, Sonata, we’ll go through this slow movement in detail. Then we’ll tackle the life-affirming and maddeningly complex last movement, which is not quite the antidote to the slow movement, but perhaps it is the only possible answer to the questions the third movement so profoundly asks. Join us! 

Beethoven once wrote to his publisher: “What is difficult, is also beautiful, good, great, and so forth. Hence everyone will realize that this is the most lavish praise that can be bestowed, since what is difficult makes one sweat.” If this credo manifests itself most powerfully in any one of Beethoven’s works, it might be the piece we’ll talk about today, the piano Sonata Op. 106, nicknamed, “Hammerklavier.”  It is the longest Sonata Beethoven ever wrote, which essentially means that it was the longest sonata anyone had written up to that point. It marks one of the pivot points between Beethoven’s so-called heroic period and his late period, where his music became even more cosmically beautiful than before. It is certainly his most ambitious Sonata to that point, and his most difficult. The scale of the Hammerklavier sonata is hard to describe; in around 45 minutes of music, Beethoven explores the full gamut of human emotion. The intensity, the difficulty, and the concentration that this sonata requires from the pianist and listener alike has led to many people, as the pianist Andras Schiff says, to “respect and revere this Sonata, but not love it.” Most of the articles and analyses of this sonata that I found in researching this show emphasize its difficulty, its scale, its obsessiveness, and its impenetrability. But I must say that when I talk to musicians abut this piece, their eyes light up. Yes, this sonata is difficult, but what have we just learned from Beethoven? What is difficult is also beautiful, good, great and so forth. Join us as we begin a two part exploration of this remarkable work together.  Thank you to Jerry for sponsoring this show on Patreon! Recording: https://youtu.be/yBtJF_4msqw?si=bIznKSGuRyXDbFaT    

Dive into the stormy collaboration between Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht, where contrasting philosophies shaped remarkable works during Weimar Germany's cultural explosion. Explore how the duo's personal and artistic tensions unfolded in 'The Seven Deadly Sins,' examining themes like sloth, envy, and ambition through Anna's complex narrative. Experience the lively yet haunting musical journey, revealing deeper reflections on love, exploitation, and the impact of societal expectations on individual expression.

In this engaging discussion, Norbert Müllemann, an editor at G Henle Publishers, and piano technician Stefan Knüpfer share their expertise on achieving the unique Ravel sound. They delve into the art of editing Ravel's intricate scores and the challenges of maintaining the composer's intentions. The duo also explores the sonic differences between modern and historical pianos, emphasizing how these instruments affect the emotional depth of the music. With insights into sound production and performance technique, listeners will find a fresh perspective on Ravel's work.

The host dives into Dvořák's rarely performed Violin Concerto, celebrating its hidden charm compared to the famous Cello Concerto. Personal anecdotes reveal the emotional journey of exploring Beethoven’s influence on Dvořák’s work. The intricate interplay between the solo violin and the orchestra showcases innovative dialogue and rich orchestration. The discussion also highlights the challenges Dvořák faced during its creation, making it a unique gem in the classical repertoire. Rediscovering this concerto breathes new life into a piece often sidelined in favor of more popular works.

Discover the fascinating bond between Brahms and violinist Joseph Joachim, from friendship to estrangement and back again. Explore how Brahms' double concerto emerged as a symbol of their reconciliation. Dive into the innovative structure of this final orchestral piece, highlighting the emotional interplay between the cello and violin. Delve into the concerto's unique thematic development and the contrast of its movements, shedding light on a masterpiece that captures the complexity of their relationship.

The commission for a new Clarinet Concerto from the great American composer Aaron Copland came from a rather unlikely source: Benny Goodman, the man known as the King of Swing. Goodman was one of the most famous and important jazz musicians of all time, but in the late 1940s, swing music was on the decline, and bebop had taken over. Goodman experimented with bebop for a time but never fully took to it in the way that he had so mastered swing. Goodman then turned towards the classical repertoire, commissioning music from many of the great composers of the time, such as Bela Bartok, Darius Milhaud, Paul Hindemith, Francis Poulenc, and of course, Aaron Copland. Copland eagerly agreed to the commission, and spent the next year carefully crafting the concerto, which is full of influences from Jazz as well as from Latin American music, perhaps inspired by the four months Copland spent in Latin America while writing the piece. What resulted from all this was a short and compact piece in one continuous movement split into two parts. With an orchestra of only strings, piano, harp, and solo clarinet, Copland created one of the great solo masterpieces of the 20th century. It practically distills everything that makes Copland so great into just 18 minutes of music. Today on the show we’ll talk about the difficulty of the piece, something that prevented Benny Goodman from performing the concerto for nearly 2 years, as well as the immense difficulty of the second movement for the orchestra. We’ll also talk about all of those quintessentially Copland traits that make his music so wonderful to listen to, and the path this concerto takes from beautiful openness to jazzy fire. Join Us!  Recording: Martin Frost with the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra Pedro Henrique Alliprandini dissertation: https://getd.libs.uga.edu/pdfs/alliprandini_pedro_h_201812_dma.pdf

Steve Reich, the great American contemporary composer, provided this program note about his work Different Trains: “The idea for the piece came from my childhood. When I was one year old my parents separated. My singer, song-writer mother moved to Los Angeles and my attorney father stayed in New York. Since they arranged divided custody, I travelled back and forth by train frequently between New York and Los Angeles from 1939 to 1942 accompanied by my governess. While the trips were exciting and romantic at the time I now look back and think that, if I had been in Europe during this period, as a Jew I would have had to ride very different trains. With this in mind I wanted to make a piece that would accurately reflect the whole situation.” Reich went about this piece in a completely innovative way: he recorded voices and then created the musical material for the piece out of the voices themselves, something that had never been done before. Therefore, the text and music material were integrated in a groundbreaking way, and the results are at times unbearably moving. This is a piece that has captured listeners attention in a way that is relatively rare for contemporary music, and it is a piece of immense power and depth. I have always been fascinated by this piece and have wanted to perform an orchestral version of it, but I never have been able to cover it on the show. That is, until AJ contributed enough to my fundraiser last year before the election to sponsor a piece, and he chose Reich’s Different Trains. Today we’ll talk a bit about Steve Reich generally for those of you unfamiliar with him, and then we’ll tackle this remarkable and unique piece in all of its creativity and profound communication. Join us!