10 More Dazzling and Awe-Inspiring Piano Quartets

by Hermione Lai, Interlude

A couple of years ago, Interlude published a blog on the 10 most beautiful piano quartets. Once again, featuring just 10 works in that particular genre is simply not enough. So, we decided to present a follow-up, highlighting 10 more dazzling and awe-inspiring piano quartets.

As a quick recap, you get a piano quartet when you add a piano to a string trio. The standard instrument lineup for this type of chamber music pairs the violin, viola, and cello with the piano. In its development, the piano quartet had to wait for technical advances of the piano, as it had to match the strings in power and expression.

© serenademagazine.com

Piano quartets are always special because the scoring allows for a wealth of tone colour, occasionally even a symphonic richness. The combined resources of all four instruments are not easy to handle, and the number of works in the genre is not especially large. However, a good many of the extant piano quartets are very personal and passionate statements. 

When talking about chamber music, and specifically chamber music with piano, it is difficult to avoid Johannes Brahms (1833-1897). Lucky for us, Brahms wrote three piano quartets, and his Op. 60 took its inspiration from his intense relationship with Clara Schumann. However, it took Brahms almost twenty years to complete the work. The origins date back to around 1855 when Brahms was wrestling with his first piano concerto.

Brahms put this particular piano quartet aside and only showed it to his first biographer in the 1860s with the words, “Imagine a man who is just going to shoot himself, for there is nothing else to do.” Thirteen years later, Brahms took up the work and radically revised it. He probably wrote a new “Andante” and also a new “Finale.” In the end, the work finally premiered on 18 November 1875 with Brahms at the piano and the famous David Popper on cello.

Brahms and the Schumanns

The emotional distress of his relationship with Clara is presented in a mood of darkness and melancholy. A solitary chord in the piano initiates the opening movement, with the string presenting a theme built from a striking two-note phrase. Some commentators have suggested that Brahms is musically speaking the name “Clara” in this two-note phrase. The second theme is highly lyrical but quickly develops towards the dark mood of the opening. The “Scherzo” is also in the minor key, and the deeply felt slow movement is a declaration of love for Clara. The dark opening returns in the final movement, and while the development presents some relief, the work still ends on a note of resignation, albeit in the major key.

Heinrich von Herzogenberg: Piano Quartet in B-flat Major, Op. 95

Heinrich von Herzogenberg

The intensely emotional and meticulously crafted compositions by Brahms served as models for a number of composers, among them Heinrich von Herzogenberg (1843-1900). As he writes, “Brahms helped me, by the mere fact of his existence, to my development, my inward looking up to him, and with his artistic and human energy.” While Brahms respected Herzogenberg’s technical craftsmanship and musical knowledge, he never really had anything to say.

Herzogenberg was undeterred and never stopped composing. In 1897, he wrote to Brahms, “There are two things that I cannot get used not to doing: That I always compose, and that when I am composing I ask myself, the same as thirty-four years ago, ‘What will He say about it?’ To be sure, for many years, you have not said anything about it, which is something that I can interpret as I wish.”

A few days before Brahms’ death, Herzogenberg presented him with his probably best and most mature work, the Piano Quartet in B-flat Major, Op. 95. The gripping “Allegro” is full of unmistakably Brahmsian character, constructed with compositional economy. An introductory chord develops into the motific core of the entire movement. The “Adagio is full of dreamy intimacy, while the capricious “Scherzo” eventually transports us into a pastoral idyll. Three themes, including a folkloric principle theme, combine in a spirited and temperamental “Finale.” 

When Richard Strauss (1864-1949) left college and moved to Berlin to study music at the age of 19, he suddenly discovered a new model in Johannes Brahms. Strauss would meet his current idol personally at the premiere of Brahms’ 4th Symphony in 1885. Under the influence of Brahms, the teenaged Strauss completed his Piano Quartet in C minor in 1884, and a good many commentators believe it to be Strauss’ “greatest chamber work.”

Richard Strauss

Op. 13 is a large work fusing “the sobriety and grandeur of Brahms with the fire and impetuous virtuosity of the young Strauss.” The work opens quietly, and the deceptively simple motif returns in various disguises. However, the music quickly explodes with superheated energy, and its dark sonorities and dramatic scope drive it to a virtually symphonic close.

Finally, the “Andante” introduces a measure of calm, with the piano sounding a florid melodic strain that gives way to a lyrical second subject in the viola. Both themes are gracefully extended while bathing in a delicate and charmed atmosphere. The concluding “Vivace” returns to the mood of the opening movement, and the rondo design also features a serious refrain and a spiky fugato. The work won a prize from the Berlin Tonkünstler, Strauss, however, would say goodbye to chamber music and explore orchestral virtuosity in his great tone poems. 

Gustav Mahler (1860-1911) seems another surprising entry into a blog on the piano quartet. However, a single movement from his student days at the Vienna Conservatory does survive. Mahler took piano lessons from Julius Epstein and studied composition and harmony under Robert Fuchs and Franz Krenn. Mahler left the Conservatory in 1878 with a diploma but without the coveted and prestigious silver medal given for outstanding achievement.

Gustav Mahler’s Piano Quartet

Although he claimed to have written hundreds of songs, several theatrical works, and various chamber music compositions, only a single movement for a Piano Quartet in A minor survived the ravages of time. Composed in 1876 and awarded the Conservatory Prize, it is strongly influenced by the musical styles of Robert Schumann and Johannes Brahms.

Conveying a sense of passion and longing, Mahler presents three contrasting themes within a strict formal design. The opening theme possesses an ominous and foreboding character, while the contrasting second—still in the tonic key—is passionately rhapsodic. To compensate for this tonal stagnation, the third theme undergoes a series of modulations. Thickly textured and relying on excessive motivic manipulation, this movement nevertheless provides insight into the creative processes of the 16-year-old Mahler. 

Antonín Dvorák (1841-1904) is another composer who, for a time, took his bearings from Johannes Brahms’s music. Dvorák had always been strongly drawn to chamber music, as his first published works are a string quartet Op. 1 and a string quintet Op. 2.

Dvořák in New York, 1893

Apparently, he composed his D-Major piano quartet in a mere eighteen days in 1875. It premiered five years later, on 16 December 1880. Surprisingly, this piano quartet has only three movements, as the composer combines a scherzo and Allegro agitato in alternation in the Finale. The opening “Allegro” sounds like a rather characteristic Czech melody, initiated by the cello and continued by the violin. By the time the piano takes up the theme, the tonality has shifted to B Major.

The melody of the slow movement, a theme followed by five variations, is introduced by the violin. Dvorák skillfully presents fragments of the theme in various meters and textures. The cello, accompanied by the piano, takes the lead in the final “Allegretto.” After the violin has taken up the theme, the piano takes us into the finale proper.

Béla Bartók: Piano Quartet in C minor, Op. 20

Béla Bartók

To his contemporaries and critics, Johannes Brahms looked like a bastion of musical conservatism. Surprisingly, it was Arnold Schoenberg, in his celebrated Radio address entitled “Brahms the Progressive”, who suggested that Brahms was “a great innovator in the realm of musical language and that his chamber music prepared the way for the radical changes in musical conception at the turn of the 20th century.”

Just one year after Brahms’ death, the teenage Béla Bartók (1881-1945) embarked on the composition of a four-movement piano quartet. For years, this score was believed to have been lost, but it was rediscovered by a member of the “Notos Quartet,” who also prepared the edition following the composer’s autograph score. What is more, they also presented a world premiere recording in 2007.

The opening “Allegro” immediately evokes the harmonic and sensuous soundscape of Johannes Brahms. And like his model, Bartók’s musical prose does not follow a predictable pattern as the boundaries and distinctions of theme and development are blurred. Brahms’ rhythmic shapes are the topic of a blazing “Scherzo,” with the “Trio” sounding a sombre lyrical contrast. The “Adagio” sounds like a declaration of love for Brahms, while the “Finale” brims with spicy Hungarian flavours. 

Camille Saint-Säens introduced Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924) to Pauline Viardot in 1872. Her youngest daughter, Marianne, immediately stole his heart, and Fauré courted her for four painful years. In July 1877, she finally agreed, and the engagement was announced. However, the relationship only lasted until the late autumn of 1877, when Marianne suddenly broke off the engagement.

Pauline Viardot

The exact reasons remain unclear, and Fauré was deeply distressed, with friends reporting that his “sunny disposition took a dark turn.” He started to suffer from bouts of depression, and the Clerc family helped him to recover. At this point, Fauré composed the masterpieces of his youth, among them the piano quartet in C minor.

It might well be considered an early work, however, the composer was already over forty. The opening “Allegro” is pervaded by a sense of optimism, urged on by a strong rhythmical gesture. The E-flat Major “Scherzo” opens with plucked strings and the piano making a light-hearted contribution. The sombre character of the “Adagio” provides an unexpected contrast, and that mood is taken over in the “Finale.” The asymmetrical piano accompaniment continues throughout and brings the work to an emphatic conclusion in the major key.

Théodore Dubois: Piano Quartet in A minor

Théodore Dubois in 1905

Théodore Dubois (1837-1924) was highly influential on the French musical scene. Early on, he was known as a composer-organist with a large oeuvre of sacred music to his name. As a pedagogue, he is still famous as the author of the most common music theory textbooks, and as an administrator, he gained notoriety by denying the famed Rome prize to Maurice Ravel on multiple occasions.

Once Dubois retired from the directorship of the Conservatoire, he worked on a chamber music project. A scholar writes, “If they are not progressive works of genius, we can still enjoy their faultless design and beauty of sonority as documents to help us understand the world and spirit in Paris before, around and after 1900.”

Dubois’ piano quartet in A minor appeared in 1907 and features a conventional four-movement design. The opening “Allegro” begins with a cautious drama but quickly transitions to a lyrical melody. The sense of melodic dominance is taken over in the “Andante,” followed by an “Allegro” replacing a scherzo. Essentially a character piece in the style of Mendelssohn, it is followed by a “Finale” of sophistication and balance.

Mélanie Bonis: Piano Quartet No. 1 in B-flat Major, Op. 69

Mélanie Bonis, 1908

Mélanie Bonis (1858-1937) was born into a Parisian lower-middle-class family and initially discouraged from pursuing music. Undeterred, she taught herself how to play the piano, and only at the urging of a family friend and with help from César Franck was she admitted to the Paris Conservatoire.

To conceal her gender during a time when compositions by women were not taken seriously, she shortened her first name to “Mel.” A good many of her late compositions have still not been published, and as she wrote to her daughter, “My great sorrow is that I never get to hear my music.”

Her first piano quartet was written between 1900 and 1905, and stylistically, it is cast in a post-Romantic tradition. Bonis explores the various possibilities of harmony and rhythm, infused with a dash of Impressionism. A good many passages show the influence of César Franck with long developments and rigorous counterpoint. At the work’s first performance, a surprised Camille Sain-Saëns declared, “I would never have believed a woman capable of writing that. She knows all the tricks of the trade.” 

Joaquín Turina (1882-1949), together with his friend Manuel de Falla, helped to promote the national character of 20th-century Spanish music. At first, influenced and inspired by Debussy, Turina soon developed a distinctly Spanish style, “incorporating Iberian lyricism and rhythms with impressionistic timbres and harmonies.”

Jacinto Higueras Cátedra: Bust of the composer Joaquín Turina, 1971 (Madrid: Escuela Superior de Canto)

While his Op. 1 Piano Quintet in G minor emerged from his study with Vincent d’Indy, the Op. 67 piano quartet in A minor is “music without the slightest need of any explanations.” The three-movement work is carefully constructed in cyclical form, and “the juxtaposition of contrasting themes give the overall shape a rhapsodic structure.”

The fundamental musical idea is introduced in the opening movement and transformed and modified throughout the work. Of particular lively interest is the central “Lento,” where Turina transformed Andalusian elements without abandoning the gestures, temperament and uniqueness of his native lands. I hope you have enjoyed this further excursion into the realm of the piano quartet, and I can already promise one more article on the subject with music by Mozart, Taneyev, Hahn, Brahms, Copland and others.

Unique Concertos

By Georg Predota, Interlude

Works by Milhaud, Fleck, Van de Vate, O’Boyle, and Adams

Darius Milhaud: Concerto for Percussion and Small Orchestra

Darius Milhaud

Darius Milhaud writes, “I have always been very interested in percussion problems. In the Choéphores and in L’homme et son désir I used massive percussion. After the audition of Choéphores in Brussels, an excellent kettledrummer, Theo Coutelier, who had a percussion class in Schaerbeek near Brussels, asked me if I would like to write a concerto for a single percussion performer. The idea appealed to me, and this is how I came to compose the concerto. The school at Schaerbeek had only a few orchestral musicians, two flutes, two clarinets, one trumpet, one trombone, and strings.” Composed in Paris between 1929 and 1930, “jazz was enjoying a decisive influence on my musical composition. I wanted to avoid at all cost the thought that anyone might think of this work in a jazz way. I therefore stressed the rough and dramatic part of the piece. This was also why I did not write a cadence and always refused that anyone adds one.”

Milhaud’s Concerto for Percussion and Small Orchestra is a benchmark in the world of percussion. It is the first of its kind to utilize a multi-percussion setup that includes over twenty wood, metal, and membrane instruments performed by one player. Eager to avoid any references to the newly popular jazz genre, Milhaud dabbled in polytonality. If you listen carefully, you can hear the tonalities of C major, A minor, A major, and C-sharp minor sounding simultaneously. The concerto is cast in two sections titled “rude et dramatique”, and “modere.” The first features bi-tonal harmonies in the orchestra, while the second explores much more lyrical regions. The concert premiered at the Palais des Beaux-Arts in Brussels in 1930. 

Béla Fleck: Juno Concerto

Béla Fleck

Béla Anton Leoš Fleck, born in New York City in 1958, was named after his father’s favorite composers: Bartók, Webern, and Janáček. He played guitar in High School and took an interest in the French horn. However, when his grandfather brought home a secondhand banjo, it became an overwhelming obsession. The modern banjo—a stringed instrument with a thin membrane stretched over a circular resonator—is thought to have been derived from instruments used in the Caribbean and brought there from West Africa. Early instruments had a varying number of strings and used a gourd body and a wooden stick neck. The banjo is often associated with folk and country music, and it “occupied a central place in African-American traditional music and the folk culture of the rural South.” Fleck was always drawn to the instrument’s Bluegrass roots, and he became the world’s leading exponent of the banjo. In the process, Fleck has won at least 14 Grammy awards and produced an award-winning documentary exploring the banjo’s African roots.

A critic wrote, “Béla Fleck has taken banjo playing to some very unlikely places—not just bluegrass and country and “newgrass,” but also into jazz and the classical concerto.” To be sure, Fleck’s artistic pursuits have explored an astonishing variety of musical styles and traditions. And that includes the use of the banjo as a solo instrument together with a symphony orchestra. The “Juno Concerto” is actually Fleck’s second banjo concerto, and it was specifically written for his young son. The work unfolds in the customary 3 movements and features many elements expected in a concerto, including a number of dazzling cadenzas. A critic wrote, “the grandiose interplay between banjo and orchestra makes you wonder why banjos and orchestras aren’t sharing stages all the time.” 

Nancy Van de Vate: Harp Concerto

Nancy Van de Vate

In the early 1970s, American composer Nancy Van de Vate explored the reasons why compositions by women simply did not appear on records. Among the reasons she cited were “a lack of university teaching positions held by or available to women, the lack of sufficient numbers of performances of their works, and the lack of commissions and prizes awarded to women.” In order to improve the situation, Van de Vate founded the “International League of Women Composers” to create and expand opportunities for women composers of music. That organization grew rapidly, and it evolved into the “International Alliance for Women in Music.” It currently “represents a diverse spectrum of creative specialization across genres within the music field and include composers, orchestrators, sound ecologists, performers, conductors, interdisciplinary artists, recording engineers, producers, musicologists, music librarians, theorists, writers, publishers, historian, and educators.”

Nancy Van de Vate also discovered that conventional titles like symphony, sonata, and concerto drew more attention in composition competitions requiring anonymous submissions. Judges and panelists were influenced by the titles ascribed to particular works, and many of her own compositions, therefore, use traditional titles. Her large orchestral works, however, have very descriptive titles such as “Journeys,” “Dark Nebulae,” and “Chernobyl.” Her Harp Concerto dates from 1996 and was first performed on 21 June 1998 with the Moravian Philharmonic in Olomouc. The harp, it seems, was rediscovered in the 20th century, and together with Ginastera, Glière, Jongen, Milhaud, Jolivet, Rautavaara, Rodrigo, and Villa-Lobos, Van de Vate contributed to a growing repertoire for that instrument in the concerto genre. 

Sean O’Boyle/William Barton: Concerto for Didgeridoo

Australian didgeridoos

The didgeridoo, called by different names in various cultures, is a wooden drone pipe played with varying techniques in a number of Australian Aboriginal cultures. While the historical origin of the instrument is uncertain, Aboriginal mythology ascribed it to the power of creating dreams. The instrument is generally fashioned from the termite-hollowed trunks or branches of a number of trees. The sound of the didgeridoo is considered the voice of the ancestral spirit of that tree, and it is always stored upright to keep the ancestral spirit safe. The didgeridoo can produce a blown fundamental pitch “and several harmonics above the fundamental.” Basically, a performer does not blow air into the instrument. The distinctive buzzing tone is produced by the continual buzzing of the lips, with the shape of the mouth, tongue, cheeks, chin, and teeth influencing the tone quality. Didgeridoo performers have perfected the technique of circular breathing, “in which the player reserves small amounts of air in the cheeks or mouth while blowing. This allows the player to snatch frequent small breaths through the nose while simultaneously continuing the drone pitch by expelling the reserved air.”

William Barton © Keith Saunders

The buzzing sound of the didgeridoo has become an easily recognizable icon of Aboriginal Australia. Contemporary bands and culturally hybrid world music groups have adopted that colorful instrument, and a number of Australian composers have used the instrument in chamber works. In addition, the legendary player William Barton collaborated with Sean O’Boyle to bring the didgeridoo into the concert hall. The work showcases the incredible expressive power of the instrument, and Barton writes, “The didgeridoo is a language. It is a speaking language. And like any language, it’s something that you’ve got to learn over many months and many years. It’s got to be a part of you and what you do.” 

John Adams: Concerto for Electric Violin and Orchestra

Walt Disney Concert Hall

To celebrate the opening of Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles in 2002, then LA Phil’s music director Esa-Pekka Salonen approached John Adams for a work to inaugurate the venue. When Adams looked at the artist’s rendition of the unfinished building, he was struck “by the sweeping, silver-toned clouds and sails of its exterior, and its warm and inviting public spaces.” In his composition, Adams wanted to “reflect the experience of those who, like me, were not born here and for whom the arrival on this side of the continent had both a spiritual and physical impact.” Originally, Adams was looking to incorporate a spoken part for the narrator, and searching for a suitable California-based text, discovered Jack Kerouac’s novel Big Sur. That novel celebrates the California spirit, and Adams “realized that what I had to say was something that could only be expressed in music.”

John Adams and Tracy Silverman

During the genesis of his Concerto for Electric Violin and Orchestra, Adams heard violinist Tracy Silverman perform in a jazz club. “When I heard Tracy play,” he writes, “I was reminded that in almost all cultures other than the European classical one, the real meaning of the music is in between the notes. The slide, the portamento, and the “blue note” all are essential to the emotional expression… Tracy’s manner of playing was a fusion of styles that showed a deep knowledge of a variety of musical traditions.” After collaborating with Silverman, Adams wrote a part for electric violin “that evokes the feeling of free improvisation while the utmost detail is paid to both solo and instrumental parts, all written out in precise notation.” For Adams, The Dharma at Big Sur expresses the “so-called shock of recognition, when one reaches the edge of the continental land mass… For a newcomer, the first exposure produces a visceral effect of great emotional complexity. I wanted to compose a piece that embodied the feeling of being on the West Coast, literally standing on the precipice overlooking the geographic shelf with the ocean extending far out into the horizon.”

András Schiff - Bartók - Piano Concerto No 3 in E major, Sz 119

Béla Bartók Piano Concerto No 3 in E major, Sz 119 1 Allegretto 2 Adagio religioso 3 Allegro vivace András Schiff, piano Hallé Orchestra Sir Mark Elder, conductor Live recording. London, Proms 2011

András Schiff - Bartók - Piano Concerto No 3 in E major, Sz 119

Béla Bartók Piano Concerto No 3 in E major, Sz 119 1 Allegretto 2 Adagio religioso 3 Allegro vivace András Schiff, piano Hallé Orchestra Sir Mark Elder, conductor

Béla Bartók - Romanian Folk Dances for String Orchestra Sz.56 BB 68

Terje Tønnensen, leader Norwegian Chamber Orchestra I. Joc cu bâtǎ (Stick Dance) 00:06 II. Brâul (Sash Dance) 01:33 III. Pê-loc (In One Spot) 02:04 IV. Buciumeana (Horn Dance) 03:20 V. Poargǎ româneascǎ (Romanian Polka) 05:05 VI. Mǎrunţel (Fast Dance) 05:39

Funniest Shows in Classical Music “All the Right Notes, Not Necessarily in the Right Order”

by Hermione Lai

Don’t laugh, but my favorite quote on music is spoken by Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the Harry Potter series. Listening to the school orchestra he says, “Ah, Music… a magic beyond all we do here!” Many people have written on the magic and power of music, but there are only two things they consistently agree upon. For one, music cannot be translated into the language of words, and secondly, the musical universe belongs to everyone, regardless of race, creed, age, or status in life.

Igudesman & Joo and Yuja Wang

The ultimate meaning of music, some people say, lies in the sounds themselves and in the ears of the listener, which means it is for the most part highly subjective. When it comes to humor in music, it has to be funny for musical reasons, as music can’t make jokes about anything except itself. Western Classical music and its conventions have a reputation for being very serious, but I want to introduce you to a couple of highly talented musicians who turn such clichés into pure and unadulterated fun.

Let’s get started with the pairing of Igudesman & Joo, alongside special guest Emanuel Ax. The story line is simple; Violinist Igudesman has hired Ax instead of Joo for a performance of Beethoven’s “Spring Sonata,” but somehow had forgotten to tell.

Aleksey Igudesman and Hyung-ki Joo met at the age of twelve at the Yehudi Menuhin School in England, “and became friends over a portion of fish and chips.” Igudesman hails from Leningrad, and he has never won any competitions, “mainly because he has never entered any.” During his studies at the Yehudi Menuhin School, he read the entire plays of Shaw, Wilde, and Chekhov, which didn’t improve his violin playing, but made him feel foolishly somewhat superior to other less intellectually endowed, yet harder practicing, colleagues. He is a violinist, composer, conductor, comedian, filmmaker, actor, writer, poet, and entrepreneur, “but his secret passion is cooking, eating out in luxurious restaurants, and writing reviews on TripAdvisor.” Joo started piano lessons at the age of eight and won a place at the Yehudi Menuhin School two years later. “There, he discovered that he was among geniuses and child prodigies and was convinced he would be kicked out of school.” Inspired by Victor Borge and Dudley Moore, they decided to combine classical music with comedy and popular culture to sidesplitting effects.

Superstar classical performers such as Emanuel Ax, Janine Jansen, Gidon Kremer, Mischa Maisky, Viktoria Mullova, and recently the incredible superstar pianist Yuja Wang have joined Igudesman & Joo. However, they are not just simply presenting music at the highest level, but also performing at a moment in culture, in which an increased desire to confront stereotypes is meeting an increased sensitivity about racial characterizations. Some commentators wrote, “their concert with Ms. Wang was riddled with jokes about her sexual appeal and Chinese heritage that ranged from unpleasant to highly offensive.” To all three performers, the show’s jokes were intentional, “and meant to satirize issues of race and sex in the music industry. Our goal is not to offend but to show the offenses for what they are.” And Yuja Wang added, “The amount of vile, sexist, anonymous (or sometimes not, when it’s in print) comments publicly directed at me and so many others are astonishing. So, I have decided to take control of my own narrative, and have some fun while doing it.” 

The music industry, just like the world of athletics, is full of intense competition. Both disciplines require thousands of hours of preparation for competitive performances that may last just a few minutes, or in the case of some athletic events, just a few seconds. However, there is a fundamental difference because athletes love competitions, and musicians hate them. Béla Bartók once famously said, “competitions are for horses, not for artists.” And there is one more fundamental difference. Most athletic events are based on objective measurements, “but in music, all sorts of qualities are being judged, qualities like beauty, sweetness, and loveliness. How can you call somebody who plays beautifully a loser?” Probably one of the most popular and enduring myths in classical music is the idea that an artist takes the stage as an unknown, and leaves it as a star. By now, the chamber music quartet from Hamburg named “Salut Salon” is already a star ensemble, and Vivaldi’s “Summer” from the Four Seasons becomes the acrobatic stage for an intensely funny musical competition. 

The funniest jokes work by setting up expectations and then doing something shocking, surprising, unexpected, or even absurd. Leonard Bernstein loved to tell this joke to make his point. An elephant is making fun of a mouse because the mouse was so tiny. So the elephant said, “Huh, look at you, you little shrimp, you peanut, you’re not even as big as my left toenail!” And the mouse said, “Well listen, I’ve been sick.” It is funny because the answer is so unexpected and shocking. You get the same effect when “2CELLOS,” the pairing of two classically trained cellists Luka Šulić and Stjepan Hauser, step onto the stage in historical costume and begin to play for a Baroque audience. Very soon, however, the world of Baroque music is left far behind, and the audience starts to realize that the song is anything but classical. The song turns out to be “Thunderstruck,” the lead single from the 1990 album “The Razoers Edge” by Australian hard rock band AC/DC. The cellists explain, “We love AC/DC as much as Bach, as both are simple and very convincing in what they do.” 

We can’t present a blog of humor in and around music without referencing Victor Borge, one of the “funniest performers in classical music ever.” For many decades, Borge combined a blend of comedy and virtuosic pianism with musical satire and verbal spoofs. Born in Copenhagen, Borge arrived penniless in the United States and within a few short years, he became known as a comic actor, composer, pianist, writer, and a director of movies, stage shows, and radio programs. Unbelievably, he appeared in 848 consecutive performances at the Golden Theatre on New York’s Broadway. Humor aside, Borge was a formidable pianist, and his playing was described as “warm, rich, and highly nuanced, achieve through pedal mixtures and the formation of his large, spatula hands with cushions on each fingertip.” His collaboration with Marilyn Mulvey is pure magic, as it takes a humorous look at many operatic and musical stereotypes. 

Brett Yang and Eddy Chen are better known collectively as the duo “TwoSet Violin.” They met each other as young teens in a math group, then as the youngest members of a youth orchestra, and later as students at the Queensland Conservatorium Griffith University in Brisbane. Initially, both followed conventional paths and played in the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra respectively. In 2016, they resigned from their orchestra jobs and began to host live classical comedy performances. Actually, it started when they posted clips of pop music played on the violin on a dedicated YouTube channel. By 2018, their channel had 100K subscribers, and by 2019 they surpassed 1 million. That number had grown to 3 million in 2021 and currently resides at over 7.5 million subscribers. It’s all about humor and relatable imperfections, and they have even started a clothing line called “TwoSet Apparel.” 

Earlier in this blog, if you remember, I said that humor in music has to be funny for musical reasons. And I believe that’s the basic idea behind performances by British conductor, actor, writer, and comedian Rainer Hersch. With shows entitled “All the right notes, not necessarily in the right order,” he has featured in comedy clubs all across Europe and in TV shows around the world. One of his most exciting musical adventures features him as a conductor of his own nine-piece orchestra, and he “connects and corrupts some of the great works of classical music.” As a critic writes, “Whether you are a professor of piano or couldn’t tell a string quartet from a string vest, this is the funniest concert you will ever see.” Hersch also likes to corrupt some of the premier orchestras in the world with his arrangements, as he readily demonstrates in the featured excerpts with the Philharmonia Orchestra. Plenty of humor and excitement on offer in the world of classical music, and I am sure we will see much more of this in the coming years.

   

Béla Bartók - Music for Strings

Bela Bartok

Bela Bartok was born on March 25, 1881 in Southern Hungary and passed away on September 26, 1945 as migrant in New York. His father had been a very enthusiastic music fan and cellist. Bartok's mother ha been an elementary school teacher and took care of him and educated him alone, because his father passed away already in 1889.

Bartok couldn't develop close ties to his home country. National pride could never grow up. Political confusions between Hungary, the CSSR, Romania and the former Yugoslavia during that time let Bartok become a permanent refugee.

At the age of 9 he started composing. With 10 he was introduced to the world public. From 1899-1903, Bartok studied at the Hungarian Music Academy Budapest. Bartok had been mostly two personalities in one: the simple folk song research scientist and on the other hand the great classical composer, who also loved to travel as a gifted virtuoso, who played his own compositions.

In 1907, Bartok has been appointed as music professor at the Hungarian Music Academy Budapest. When he met the composer Claude Debussy ("Claire de Lune"), Bartok met also the impressionism with its strange Fareast elements. Serious and momentous occurrences in Bartok's life reflected in his music. Best examples are his three piano concertos from 1926, 1930, and 1945. From hammering and pounding rhythms Bartok changed into a choral type "Adagio religioso" in his third piano concerto - already while being deadly sick and terrible lonely.

His world known instrumental works are Music for Strings, Drums and Celesta (1936), Divertimento for Strings (1939), and the Concerto for Orchestra (1943). The two Rhapsodies for Violin and Orchestra (1928) grip more.