Tōru Takemitsu (1930-1996)
How Slow the Wind (1991)
"In music I found my raison d'être as a man. After the war, music was the only thing. Choosing to be in music clarified my identity." So began Tōru Takemitsu’s career as a composer and with it his own exploration of the meaning of nationality. Takemitsu was born in Tokyo, Japan, but his relationship with Japanese music was complicated by the onset of war during his teenage years. Western classical music was banned in Japan during this time, and Takemitsu’s only experience of non-Japanese musical traditions came from the illicit gramophone sessions he shared with his colleagues while serving the term of his military service. The ban on Western music only intrigued Takemitsu all the more, and when the war was over he took every opportunity to listen to the music broadcast on the US Armed Forces radio service. But as his love for Western music grew, so too did his regard for Japanese music diminish, becoming tainted by ‘the bitter memories of war’.
As Takemitsu’s career developed, however, and he began to receive the attention and admiration of his contemporaries, his thoughts turned towards his homeland. Looking back at the end of his career he declared: "I must express my deep and sincere gratitude to John Cage… For a long period I struggled to avoid being 'Japanese', to avoid 'Japanese' qualities. It was largely through my contact with John Cage that I came to recognize the value of my own tradition." As his renewed interest in Japanese music took hold, Takemitsu became increasingly interested in exploring the similarities between the two musical cultures, integrating Japanese instruments into the traditional orchestra and combining the tonal language of both traditions. Takemitsu also drew inspiration from the natural world around him and likened the process of listening to music to walking through a Japanese garden: "A garden is composed of various different elements and sophisticated details that converge to form a harmonious whole. Each element does not exert its individuality, but achieves a state of anonymity - and that is the kind of music that I would like to create."
How Slow the Wind was written during the final years of his life and is inspired by a short three-line poem by Emily Dickinson of the same name: "How slow the wind, how slow the sea, how late their feathers be!" The poem’s elegant simplicity is echoed in the musical structure, with the basic melodic material taken up by each of the instruments in mini-variations. The careful placement of these lines creates an organic growth of sound that eventually transforms effortlessly into a simple D-flat major chord. This represents for the composer: "a milk white light in the midst of darkness".
© Jo Kirkbride
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Piano Concerto in G major
Allegramente - meno vivo - tempo primo
Adagio assai
Presto
If any composer found the musical equivalent of the style of the decorative arts of the late ’20s and early ’30s it was Ravel. In fact, his Piano Concerto in G, which was first performed in Paris in 1932, is an essentially art-deco score. Thinking at one point of calling it a divertimento rather than a concerto, Ravel fashioned a work with the ziggurat angularity, bright colours, geometrical wit and jazzy allusions in vogue at the time.
The work begins with a crack of the whip, bright piano figuration and a cheerful piccolo tune which is later taken up by a brave solo trumpet. On the second solo entry the pianist seems uncertain where to go. There is a suggestion here of a Spanish guitar improvisation and it is really the percussion and a drawling clarinet and trumpet which suggest that the blues might make a better second subject. The soloist generously supplies two such melodies. At the appropriate point in the recapitulation, after the breathless toccata of a development section, a harp and then first horn linger lovingly over the first of the two blues tunes. The piano compensates by basing its cadenza on the second.
The Adagio assai is not as far from the world of jazz as it might seem. As Ravel confessed, the apparently effortless linear continuity of its opening theme was developed by studious reference to the Larghetto of Mozart's Clarinet Quintet - but not without making clear allusions to the second blues theme of the preceding Allegramente. Introduced by the piano over even quavers in the left hand and later recapitulated by cor anglais, the main theme dominates all but the brief middle section of the movement.
The final Presto begins with a main theme in a four-note geometric pattern, a piano ostinato, and music-hall interjection in alien keys from clarinet, trombone and piccolo. Disparate thematic elements - a gallop on the piano, a horn call converted into flapper tune by the trumpet - are brilliantly integrated with the others in a non-stop continuity of virtuosity involving not only the tireless soloist but also the hard worked bassoon.
© Gerald Larner
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Symphony No 4 in B flat major, Op 60 (1806)
Adagio – Allegro vivace
Adagio
Allegro vivace
Allegro ma non troppo
The rule of thumb about Beethoven’s symphonies used to be that the odd-numbered ones were masculine, assertive, dramatic, heroic; the even-numbered ones feminine, lyrical, good-tempered, humorous – and, apart from the Pastoral, slightly less popular. Though Schumann hailed the Fourth Symphony as a “slender Grecian maiden”, it was always the Cinderella of the symphonies, never quite glamorous enough to distract attention from Nos 3 and 5, yet notable for its pace and its moments of pungency. To dismiss it as inferior would be a profound mistake. It is a work whose lyricism is constantly threatened by thudding rhythms and by patches of darkness from which the music emerges into sudden sunlight.
Composed in 1806, alongside the Fifth Symphony, it begins very differently with a slow, mysterious, somewhat ominous introduction whose apparent inactivity provoked Weber’s famous jeer about a few notes spread over five minutes. Certainly this veiled, hesitant music, with its probing harmonies and softly stalking tread, must have perplexed more people than Weber among its early listeners. But suddenly, with a series of loud upward thrusts, the pulse quickens and a hammering theme, previously hinted at, is stated boldly by the full orchestra. The Allegro section, filled with perky little woodwind themes and abrupt changes of direction, is at last in action. Though the music is sometimes reduced to the merest thread of tone, an immense crescendo over a drum-roll - one of the most exciting moments in the entire symphony - signals the start of the recapitulation.
In the Adagio, the rocking rhythm heard at the outset forms the movement’s steady heartbeat, sometimes soft, sometimes loud. Much admired by Berlioz, who said it seized him with emotion, the music sings and sighs its way towards a hauntingly nocturnal theme for clarinet with a tender, decoratively muted violin accompaniment.
Swinging cross-rhythms in the third movement show the title menuetto to be a Beethovenian understatement (though Furtwangler conducted it famously slowly). The music, in fact, is a sardonic scherzo, one of Beethoven’s double ones in which the trio section - a sweet pastoral interlude in which the oboe plays a star role - innovatively comes round twice.
Although Beethoven claimed that he learnt little from his composition lessons with Haydn, he provided his Fourth Symphony with a remarkably Haydnesque finale. The main theme and its spirited successors are spun right round the orchestra in exhilaratingly perpetual motion. Even the bassoon is granted a solo spot when, at the start of the recapitulation, it delivers its own whizzing version of the main theme.
© Conrad Wilson
Principal Conductor Robin Ticciati conducts the first of three concerts this Season. Beethoven’s Fourth sings with all the ardour and lyricism of the first Romantics, and Ravel’s brilliance contrasts beautifully with the elegiac simplicity of Takemitsu’s miniature masterpiece – one of the SCO’s most widely performed commissions.
***Please note this concert has been cancelled***

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