Vista Philharmonic Orchestra

Program Notes

By Maestro Bruce Hangen

Composer Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992) was the go-to for orchestras looking to expand their horizons beyond central Europe for many years. Born in Argentina but raised in New York city, it was his father who insisted Astor learn the bandoneón (basically a small, button accordion), with which Astor was associated his entire life.  Playing the bandoneón meant playing tango, a song and dance form originating in Argentina in the late 1800s of which the usual emotions are nostalgia, sadness and laments for lost love.  Tangazo (1970) begins low and dark in the cellos and basses, but eventually evolves into a bouncy if not actually joyous movement overall.  

If ever one would search for a unique composer, Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) certainly fits the bill.  

A native Brazilian who was educated in historical European art forms, but who ultimately rejected traditional European models of melody, harmony and structure, Villa-Lobos’ style is most definitely unique.  Yes, it sounds like a folk song, but perhaps more like a peasant humming to himself; yes, the music is for orchestra, but oddities of instrument pairings and tempo changes belie an obvious sense of form, harmony or tone color.  In four movements, the Bach-inspired Bachianas Brasileiras No. 2 (1930) is a thoroughly delightful, if often reflective excursion through the Brazilian countryside––in my opinion one hears a farmer humming in the fields, an actual vocal aria by a professional singer, a country dance and, finally, a short trip on the “Little Train of the Caipira”.  

Too numerous to mention are all the composers who ventured beyond their native land and then composed works influenced by the region of their travels.  Classic examples are Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohn, each of whom traveled to Italy and wrote now-famous works (the Capriccio Italien and Italian Symphony, respectively).  Such was the case with American Aaron Copland (1900-1990).  El Salon Mexico (1936) was composed after several trips to a particular dance hall in Mexico city, after which the piece is named.  It is loosely based on several popular dance tunes he heard in the hall, about which he said, “In some inexplicable way, while milling about in those crowded halls, one really felt a live contact with the Mexican people — the atomic sense one sometimes gets in far-off places, of suddenly knowing the essence of a people — their humanity, their separate shyness, their dignity and unique charm”.

Additional Program Notes by Kenneth Radnofsky
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) Kaddisch (1914)
Viktor Ullmann (1898-1944) Slavonic Rhapsody (1940)

Kaddisch is the most sacred prayer in the Jewish service (later adapted by Christians as the Lord’s Prayer). It offers healing for the living while saying goodbye to departed souls. I first played Ravel’s setting just after 9/11/(2001) at NEC with conductor Richard Hoenich. Parts had just arrived. We rehearsed for 10 minutes (Merryl Goldberg’s transcription). First notes in the orchestra are Ravel ‘points of light;’  stars shining back to earth, brilliantly, sparsely orchestrated, yet supporting an ancient melody that sings with clear meaning. 

Ullmann fashioned his Rhapsody from Slavonic melodies in 1940, in the storm of Naziism, using both nostalgic and hopeful themes, with the evil morphing of the same music intruding into the structure (I played and presented in America at NEC in March 1995, with Hoenich conducting).  By 1941 Ullmann had been sent with other artists to Theresienstadt. Ullmann’s 1943 ‘Emperor of Atlantis,’ (allegory of a world of living dead who couldn’t die until the Emperor (Hitler) died), was discovered in live rehearsals; all were shipped to Auschwitz and murdered.  Somehow the music survived. Both works illustrate bravery, character and belief in the triumph of good over evil; Ullmann’s music is miraculously transcendent and hopeful.