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Mary Louise Boehm pianist
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Three American Romantics
Frederick Converse Sonata (1935)
Arne Oldberg Sonata, Op. 28 (1910)
Amy Beach Variations on Balkan Themes, Op. 60 (1904)
Mary Louise Boehm says: I always find it exciting to explore an era of music and see what treasures can be found besides the works everybody knows. The music may be obscure today, but if the composer was successful in his lifetime, there must have been a reason. It usually pays to have a good look. The three American composers on this record were well-known during their professional careers; their music was frequently performed by famous soloists, conductors and orchestras. All three were pianists with superior skills, relishing the 'orchestral sound' of a piano evoked by the use of full chords and the entire keyboard range. (Amy Beach did make an orchestral version of the Variations on Balkan Themes.) After the death of each of these composers their music was put aside in favor of a newer style; 'American' came to mean Gershwin, Copland, Bernstein, Sessions. Now we are far enough removed from the first half of this century that we can have a more objective view. Converse, Oldberg and Beach wrote in the highly romantic style of their time, but they speak with individual voices. Each expresses ideas with superb craftsmanship in colorful music which is dramatic, moving, gentle and grandioso. Of the three, Converse is the most daring and modern, Oldberg the most classic, while Beach reflects true genius.
Frederick Shepherd Converse (1871 Newton, Massachusetts - 1940 Westwood, Massachusetts) was the son of a very successful and prominent Boston businessman. The father's death, in 1894, left the young Converse independently wealthy, which allowed him to become a composer without having to worry about finances. His eldest daughter Louise married Junius Morgan, son of the famous banker J.P. Morgan. The wedding, in 1915, was a high society affair. Converse was at that time at the height of his career.
Converse began his musical training when he was ten. He studied at Harvard College (1889-93) under John Knowles Paine, while receiving piano instruction from Carl Baermann. After graduation he continued composition studies with George W. Chadwick, and in 1896 went for two years to Munich to complete his education under Joseph Rheinberger. Upon his return to the United States, he settled at a large country estate in Westwood, Massachusetts, near Boston, where he lived the rest of his life. His archives were kept at the Morgan estate in Glen Cove, Long Island, until 1972, when the house was sold and Converse's manuscripts and papers were dispersed to various libraries.
In the early years of his professional life, Converse taught at the New England Conservatory of Music and at Harvard College until 1907, when he resigned to devote himself exclusively to writing music. Soon he was recognized as one of America's outstanding composers; his works were much performed. His opera, The Pipe of Desire, was the first American opera to be produced by the Metropolitan Opera in New York (1910). Converse received many honors. He left about 150 works.
His early style used 19th century German idioms. Beginning with Flivver Ten Million, a tone poem written at the occasion of the ten millionth Ford car built (1927), he adopted more modern techniques, without abandoning traditional roots. The Piano Sonata (1937) belongs to his modernist period. Classical principles are evident: the themes are compact, characteristic and well ordered, giving the work strength and coherence. The key relationships between the three movements are also traditional: A minor-major F major A major, as is the external architecture of the movements: sonata-allegro form ternary form (ABA) binary form (AB AB Coda). The outstanding and novel feature in this Sonata is the harmonic approach. Classical composers make the central tonality clear before venturing out. Converse on the other hand begins movements and sections in remote tonalities which eventually converge at the proper key. For instance, the opening chord is D minor, but no tonality is established; not until the fourth measure does a cadence briefly touch A minor, but the confirmation of A as tonic comes only at the end of the movement. Converse takes great harmonic liberties; chord sequences wander into distant key areas. One gets the feeling of adventurous trips abroad before coming home. In addition, basic triads are embellished with any number of dissonances, creating colorful, rich sonorities. But apart from its modernist sound, the spirit of the work is thoroughly romantic.
The second movement is a perfect, little nocturne with a clarity and innocence one finds in Grieg. Remarkable, even to professional ears, is the feerique sound of the middle section: the pianist's left hand plays the main melody with the thumb plus an ostinato triplet rhythm reiterating interesting combinations of drones, while the right hand plays a free counterpoint in high register, embellished with random upper notes shimmering like stars in the night sky.
The finale alternates a waltz-like theme with a quasi march in slower tempo. The expression in the waltz is a strange mixture of elegance and unease (remotely akin to Ravel's La Valse (1920), contrasting with the poise of the march. In the coda, the virtuosic character of the Sonata takes the upper hand, and the work ends with blazing pyrotechniques.
Arne Oldberg (1874-1962) is foremost connected with Chicago. His father, Oscar Oldberg, in 1886 founded and became Dean of the famous School of Pharmacy at Northwestern University. A son, Dr. Eric Oldberg, became President of both the Chicago Board of Health and the Orchestral Association, the governing body of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. In this erudite family Arne received his first piano lessons at the age of five, taught by his father, who was an excellent amateur musician. Oldberg studied music in Chicago, Vienna and Munich.
In 1899 Oldberg was appointed Professor of Music at Northwestern University, and later became Dean of the Graduate School, a position he held until his retirement in 1941. During his 42 years at Northwestern University most of his time was taken up by teaching and administration, composing was mainly done during vacations. Oldberg became an influential figure with a large following; among his
composition and piano students were Howard Hanson, founder and director of the Eastman School of Music, and John W. Schaum, author of one of the most widely used piano teaching methods in America. Oldberg saw nearly all his orchestral works performed by the Chicago Symphony. He received many honors for his compositions and teaching. He left approximately 100 works, of which about half were published by Clayton F. Summy, Chicago, and G. Schirmer, New York.
Mary Louise Boehm: I met Mr. Oldberg after he had retired. I premiered his Third Piano Concerto with the Chicago Civic Orchestra in Orchestra Hall. Oldberg coached me. He also played for me his Piano Sonata which is recorded here, explaining his ideas, which gave me first hand experiences in the interpretation of Oldberg's music. It has a certain nobility, as well as a typically American openness and freshness. The Sonata was often performed by Fanny Bloomfield Zeisler, to whom it is dedicated.
Oldberg admired Beethoven. An important aspect of his compositional technique is similar to Beethoven's: in the opening paragraph of the Sonata five major motives are introduced which are the building blocks for the entire work. One result is classical solidity; yet Oldberg's way of handling motives is so plastic that the music always sounds inspired. Another similarity to many of Beethoven's works is the absence of a true melody; the essence of the music is in the mutations and changing interactions of the motives. Oldberg's craftsmanship begins with the motives themselves; they are such that they can be sequenced in most any order, or combined as counterpoints, including inverted and retrograde forms. As the motives are altered they remain clearly identifiable. The work appears to combine the best of two worlds: the coherence and clarity of a classical sonata and the wide range of expression of a romantic fantasy. Formally the composition is cyclical, because the lead motives 1 and 2 (the second one is identical to the opening of Beethoven's Piano Sonata Op.31/3) come back prominently in all movements. But a closer look reveals that all motives are used cyclically.
The first movement, Moderate, ma con anima, is colorful and alive with dynamic and expressive changes. In the first thematic group alone we find 17 special performance instructions: four fermatas, one G.P. (general pause), and 12 verbal annotations. Oldberg's playing was very declamatory, as if he was following a hidden script in the music. We are presented with moments of tenderness, tension, climactic outbursts and surprises.
The second movement (Canzonetta) is a song without words, marked Andante espressivo, quasi improvisato. Amazingly, the wistful, jocular and lyric passages are all made from the same preceding motives, often in ingenious ways. For instance, in measure 29 we find four of the motives in counterpoint within one bar. The middle section brings a motive with a new identity, yet still related to the other material.
The finale is a clever adaptation of a two-part song form ABAB'. The second A-section is a literal repeat of the first, except for the ending. Within itself it contrasts two gestures: energetic block-style chords outlining one of the main motives in inversion, and a waltz-like, suave complement. The B-sections are rhapsodic: all motives, singly and in combinations are in turn placed in the spotlight, almost randomly, their order and character determined by the unfolding of the musical narrative. For instance, in the coda the originally gentle motive from the middle movement comes back as a powerful climax. The full responsibility of clarifying the many internal references in the Sonata, and of carrying the poetic intent of the work seamlessly from first to last rests with the pianist.
Amy Beach (1867 Henniker, New Hampshire - 1944 New York City) Amy Marcy Cheney was born in a small New England town. She was a precocious child, already composing at age four. At 15 she wrote her first major song. In school she was a mathematical genius. Her pianistic talent was equally amazing: at seven she played concerts in public, at 16 she made her debut with the Boston Symphony Orchestra ('I wore my first long dress,' she recalled.) She married a prominent Boston surgeon when she was 18. From then on she signed all her works as Mrs. H.H.A. Beach. At the request of her husband, she limited her public appearances to a few charity concerts per year, because it was not proper at the time for a lady in polite Boston circles to be on stage. After Dr. Beach's death, Amy took up her concert career again, playing recitals and orchestra appearances with major orchestras in the United States and Europe until 1917, when she retired.
At home Amy Beach was always encouraged to compose. She was basically self-taught, learning theory and orchestration by translating the treatises of Berlioz and Gevaert, analyzing every piece of music she could lay her hands on, and attending the rehearsals of the Boston Symphony, score in hand. She was much interested in folksongs. Outdoors she transcribed bird calls, which she used in her compositions, and which made a major contribution to the science of ornithology. She left about 300 compositions, nearly all published and performed. Her output resembles Grieg's: the bulk of it consists of songs (about 200) and short piano pieces, with only a handful of major works. When she died, at age 77, she was a well-to-do, highly respected composer.
Mary Louise Boehm: When I recorded Beach's magnificent Piano Quintet in 1974, she was virtually unknown to the public. Paul Hume commented in the Washington Post: 'Where has this music been all its life?.' Next I revived Beach's great Piano Concerto, last played by the composer in 1917, with the Boston Symphony. It was not heard anymore until I played the first performance of recent times in 1976, with the American Symphony, New York, Morton Gould conducting, and I have performed it many times since. It is a great satisfaction to me that my performances and recordings have helped restore Amy Beach to her rightful place, recognized today as one of the outstanding American composers around the turn of the century. She also has attracted interest among musicologists, featuring books, articles and conferences. At the Library of Congress the friendly librarian told me some years ago that Amy Beach was the most researched American composer. Indeed, her compositions are so beautiful that much can be said and analyzed to advantage.
In the meantime I am happy for the opportunity to record her greatest masterwork for piano solo, the Variations on Balkan Themes. I play the work in its original form. In 1936, in the midst of the Depression, urged by her publisher, Beach attempted to make a shorter version, which in my opinion did not succeed well. One of the marvels of Beach's writing is her spontaneity: she follows her inborn musical instinct. Normally it took her only a short time to finish a new work; the result was usually perfect. Tampering with it later did not work for her. The real essence of her music cannot be analyzed; the sentiments and immediacy in her works can be made palpable only in performance.
The Balkan Variations were written in 1904, first played in public by Amy Beach in 1905, and published the following year. The first edition (Arthur Schmidt, Boston) carried a commentary by Amy Beach, which is reprinted here.
Haunting melodies, reflecting, mirror-like, the rare beauty and pathos of mountain legend, the tragedy and happiness of a wondrous people and a primitive life. Of unknown origin, these tunes have passed from generation to generation of peasants who could neither read
nor write music. They are to be heard everywhere in the vicinity of the mountains and neighboring villages; sung by the little peasant-girls as they dance, played by the shepherds on their pipes and fiddles, chanted by the soldiers at their bivouac fires, and loved by every one.
For the development of this composition, four themes have been selected, the first and principal one, "O Maiko Moya," following closely the sentiment of the words:
"O my poor country, to thy sons so dear,
Why art thou weeping, why this sadness drear?
Alas! Thou raven, messenger of woe,
Over whose fresh grave moanest thou so?"
In the first five variations and the seventh, this theme is the only one employed. As a prelude to the sixth variation, "Stara Planina," an ancient hymn to the mountains, is introduced; and as a Coda the dance-tune, "Nasadil ye Dado" (Grandpa has planted a little garden).
The eighth variation is preceded by a Macedonian appeal for help, made centuries ago to a neighboring country.
The composer gratefully acknowledges her indebtedness to the Reverend and Mrs. William W. Sleeper for the folk-songs obtained during their missionary life in that region; also to them and to Mrs. May Sleeper Ruggles for interesting historical details of words and music.
In the Variations technique and poetry go hand in hand with a unique form, which as the composer says follows closely the sentiments of the words of the theme song, O Maiko Moya. The main thought is the suffering of the Balkan people, who for centuries have been periodically tortured by oppression, war and genocide. In 1903 the situation was similar to the 1990s. Then it was a Macedonian uprising which was cruelly and brutally suppressed, and became international news. It was this event, together with receiving a number of Balkan folksongs form the missionaries Reverend and Mrs. Sleeper, that inspired Amy Beach to write her great work.
The composer marks the theme adagio malincolico; she gives it the slow, heavy gait familiar from other east-European songs, like the Volga boatmen. Variations 1-7 form a unit, symbolically referring to a people living, working and playing, reflecting as Beach says in her Preface the happiness of a people. She uses dance forms which are only peripherally connected with the Balkan region: a polonaise, a Hungarian verbunko, a barcarole (Venetian) and a waltz (Austrian) together an intelligent choice for a person in 1904, steeped in western classical music and writing for American audiences, without any specific knowledge of musical traditions in the Balkan. All seven variations are built on the main theme; its first three notes a minor second and an augmented second put a characteristic, melancholic overcast on the entire section.
Variation 1 is a canon of the theme, a way of expressing that its sadness shadows everyone.
Variation 2 is a proud, flamboyant polonaise, a real masculine expression. Variation 3 lightly babbles along, expressing the lighter side of life and work. This is one of two variations the other is nr. 6 which provides a light moment in the otherwise serious music. Variation 4 is a graceful barcarole.
Melody and harmony in the long Variation 5 are entirely played by the left hand. We may suppose that the originating thought was a maimed war victim, but it may also refer to things like lack of political freedom, or poverty, affecting a whole people. In parts of the variation the pianist's right hand plays continual trills in high register. Pianistically the effect is a feat, with unusual colors. Harmonically the Variation is in major, and we may see here the idea expressed that in spite of handicaps there will always be optimism and the need to make something beautiful out of life.
Variation 6 contains three of the four Balkan songs. It begins with the ancient song to the mountains, Stara Planina. In the context of this work and the way Beach uses this theme in the final cadenza, one may think of 'tradition' and 'indestructibility.' The variation is laid out in the form of a Hungarian verbunko, with a slow introduction (lassu) and a fast dance (friss) following. The latter is based on the main theme, O Maiko, while the coda is a children's song Nasadil ye Dado, 'Grandpa has made a little garden.' Musically the two new songs provide contrast, in the poetry of the work they give Beach a way of bringing tradition and children into the picture of a happy people.
Variation 7 is a slow waltz, and brings the first part of the work to a close.
Variation 8 introduces the fourth Balkan tune, Macedonian!, which is a cry for help. The entire variation functions as an introduction to the big funeral march, the gravitation point of the composition. Its place and meaning refer to the last two lines of the poem given in the Preface: the mourning over endless graves, recent and past. The march neither begins, nor ends; it fades in with muffled drums, as if heard in the distance. Gradually the music builds up to an amazing climax with a stunning volume and sonority, unusual for any piano writing. Slowly the sound diminishes until the drum rolls disappear again over the horizon.
The remainder of the composition is labeled Cadenza, a free fantasy serving as a summary and conclusion. It begins softly with Stara, the 'tradition' theme. For a brief 12 measures the pianist indulges in pure pianism: fragments of the main theme are heard amidst Lisztian garlands of arpeggiated chords. But then the Stara theme builds up in strength, leading to a partial repeat of the proud polonaise (Var.2). Pianistic sequences continue to overflow with energy, building to a climactic, triple forte statement of Stara. This climax is the psychological counterpart of the one in the funeral march. From this high point on the music subsides, while intoning the Macedonian cry for help theme help which was then, like today, not sufficiently forthcoming. Logically, the work ends with the main theme: suffering and mourning continue. The last motives heard are a whispering of 'Macedonian!.'
The tragic intent of the work has come full circle. Musically and artistically Amy Beach has made her point: when the main theme comes back for the last time, it is deeply moving, laden with a wealth of thought and emotion. Romantic music this far out on the dark side of the emotional spectrum, needs an interpreter willing to expose himself and dramatize the performance without sentimentality. Two other great works come to mind, Tchaikovsky's Overture-fantasy Romeo and Juliet, and his Sixth Symphony, which need the same kind of risk taking. Such works can reflect the tensions of great tragedy, or be just a series of technical devices.
Beach's control of form and sonority is masterful; the composition demands a big concert grand to realize the multitudes of colors and dynamics, ranging from whisper to thunder. The Variations on Balkan Themes ranks as one of the great masterpieces of the solo piano literature, because of its magnitude, perfection, inventiveness and dramatic impact.
Notes by Kees Kooper
Mary Louise Boehm
Mary Louise Boehm is one of the most adventuresome pianists before the public today. She has made a major contribution to the world of music by rediscovering, performing and recording neglected masterworks. Thanks to her, several compositions have become part of the concert repertoire again. Her impressive discography includes works by Abel, Gyrowetz, Haydn, Schroeter, Field, Moscheles, Kalkbrenner, Spohr, Pixis and Hummel; among contemporary Americans: Juan Orrego-Salas, Roque Cordero, David Diamond, George Rochberg, and the romantic-American composers Arthur Foote, Louis Moreau Gottschalk, Anthony Philip Heinrich, Amy Beach and Ernest Schelling. The current recording adds Frederick Converse and Arne Oldberg to the list. Mary Louise Boehm is splendidly equipped to play this kind of romantic music, having worked with such masters as Robert Casadesus, Walter Gieseking and Luisa Stojewska.
Mary Louise Boehm, piano
Three American Romantics
Frederick Converse (1871-1940)
Sonata No. 1 for Piano (1935) (19:37)
Allegro con brio (8:40)
Andante sostenuto ed espressivo (5:11)
Allegro moderato ma appassionato (5:46)
Arne Oldberg (1874-1962)
Sonata in B flat minor, Op. 28 (publ. 1910) (20:50)
Moderato ma con anima (9:16)
Canzonetta: Andantino espressivo, quasi improvisato (5:28)
Energico ed animato (6:06)
Amy Beach (1867-1944)
Variations on Balkan Themes, for Piano, Op. 60 (1904) (27:37)
Theme: Adagio malincolico
Var. I: Piu mosso ·Var. II: Maestoso · Var. III: Allegro ma non troppo · Var. IV: Andante alla Barcarola
Var. V: Largo con molta espressione - Poco piu mosso ·Var. VI: Quasi Fantasia - Allegro all'Ongarese
Var. VII: Valse lento ·Var. VIII: Con vigore - Lento calmato
Marcia funerale
Cadenza (Grave - quasi fantasia - Maestoso come Var. IIdo - Adagio come prima)
Total Time = 68:01
Recorded: October-November, 1997
Sound Engineer: Ferran Pasqual ·Piano Technician: Jaime Vidal ·Producer: Kees Kooper
This recording was sponsored in part through the generosity of the Fundacio A.C.A., Mallorca, Spain.
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