David Finckel’s dynamic musical career has included performances on the world’s stages in the roles of recitalist, chamber artist, and orchestral soloist. The first American student of Mstislav Rostropovich, he was the winner of the Philadelphia Orchestra’s junior and senior divisions, resulting in two performances with the orchestra. In 1979 he joined the Emerson String Quartet, and during thirty-four seasons garnered nine Grammy Awards and the Avery Fisher Prize. His quartet performances and recordings include quartet cycles of Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, Mendelssohn, Dvořák, Brahms, Bartók, and Shostakovich, as well as collaborative masterpieces and commissioned works.

David Finckel and Wu Han founded ArtistLed, the first internet-based, artist-controlled classical recording label in 1997. ArtistLed’s catalog of more than 20 releases includes the standard literature for cello and piano, plus works composed for the duo by George Tsontakis, Gabriela Lena Frank, Bruce Adolphe, Lera Auerbach, Edwin Finckel, Augusta Read Thomas and Pierre Jalbert. His orchestral recordings include both the Dvořák and Harbison concertos.

Artistic Co-Director of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, he also co-founded Music@Menlo in 2003, an innovative summer chamber music festival in Silicon Valley.

David Finckel taught extensively with the late Isaac Stern in America, Israel, and Japan. He is currently a professor at both the Juilliard School and Stony Brook University and oversees both CMS’s Bowers Program and Music@Menlo’s Chamber Music Institute.

Passionately dedicated to education for musicians of all ages and experience, he developed a special Resource section of his website (davidfinckelandwuhan.com/resource) to provide, at no cost, a wealth of guidance for students on both music study and careers, as well as invaluable information for arts organizations and individuals on every aspect of concert presenting. David’s 100 online lessons on cello technique, Cello Talks, are viewed by an international audience of musicians (cellotalks.com).

Along with pianist Wu Han, David Finckel was the recipient of Musical America’s Musicians of the Year Award.

LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN
Born 1770, Bonn
Died 1827, Vienna

Symphony No. 1 in C Major, op.21

Beethoven began sketches for a symphony in C major in 1795, just three years after he arrived in Vienna, but the piece did not go well and he abandoned it. The symphony was the grandest of purely instrumental forms, and because he did not want to rush into a field where Haydn and Mozart had done such distinguished work, Beethoven used the decade of the 1790s to refine his technique as a composer and to prepare to write a symphony. He slowly mastered sonata form and began to write for larger chamber ensembles and for wind instruments; he also composed two piano concertos before taking on the challenge of a symphony. Beethoven then wrote the First Symphony in 1799-1800, and it was first performed, along with his Septet, in Vienna on April 2, 1800.

The genial First Symphony has occasionally been burdened with ponderous commentary from those who feel that it must contain the seeds of Beethoven’s future development; every modulation and detail of orchestration has been squeezed for evidence of the revolutionary directions the composer would later take. Actually, the piece is a very straightforward late-18th-century symphony, the product of a talented young man quite aware of the example of Haydn and Mozart and anxious to master the most challenging form he had faced so far. In fact, one of the most impressive things about this symphony is just how conservative it is. It uses the standard Haydn-Mozart orchestra of pairs of winds plus timpani and strings (though early reviewers commented on its heavy use of the winds); its form is right out of Haydn (with whom Beethoven had studied); and its spirit is consistently carefree. There are no battles fought and won here, no grappling with darkness and struggling toward the light; its distinction lies simply in its crisp energy and exuberant music-making. There are some unusual features along the way, but these should be enjoyed as the striking touches they are rather than exaggerated in light of Beethoven’s future directions as a symphonist. The young composer who wrote it was actually, looking backward rather than forward.

The key signature of this symphony may suggest that it is in C major, but the first movement’s slow introduction opens with a stinging discord that glances off into the unexpected key of F major. This leads to another “wrong” key—G major—and only gradually does Beethoven “correct” the tonality when the orchestra alights gracefully on C major at the Allegro con brio. Many have noticed the resemblance between Beethoven’s sturdy main theme here and the opening of Mozart’s “Jupiter” Symphony, composed twelve years earlier. This is not a case of plagiarism or of slavish imitation, only a young man’s awareness of the thunder behind him. This energetic movement, with its graceful second theme in the woodwinds, develops concisely and powerfully.

The second movement, marked Andante cantabile con moto, is also in sonata form. The main theme arrives as a series of polyphonic entrances, and Beethoven soon transforms the dotted rhythm of this theme’s third measure into an accompaniment figure. It trips along in the background through much of this movement, and Beethoven gives it to the solo timpani for extended periods. Beethoven’s stipulation con moto is crucial: This may be a slow movement, but it pulses continuously forward along its 3/8 meter, driving to a graceful climax as the woodwind choir sings a variant of the main theme.

By contrast, the third movement bristles with energy, and Beethoven’s marking Menuetto seems incorrect: This may well be a minuet in form, but the indication Allegro molto e vivace banishes any notion of dance music. This movement is, in everything but name, a scherzo, the first of the remarkable series of symphonic scherzos Beethoven would write across his career. Its trio section is dominated by the winds, whose chorale-like main tune is accompanied by madly scampering violins.

The most amusing joke in this symphony comes at the opening of the finale, where a rising scale emerges bit by bit, like a snake coming out of its hole; at the Allegro molto e con brio that scale rockets upward to introduce the main theme. With this eight-bar theme, the movement seems at first a rondo, but it is actually in sonata form, complete with exposition repeat and development of secondary themes. A vigorous little march drives the symphony to its resounding close.

Beethoven’s First Symphony found enthusiastic audiences; it was soon performed in Berlin, Breslau, Frankfurt, Dresden, Munich, Paris, and London, and there is even evidence that it may have been performed in Lexington, Kentucky, in 1817 (Beethoven would have been delighted). To those dismayed by the course of Beethoven’s subsequent music, the First Symphony—which so cheerfully trails clouds of 18th-century glory—remained a symbol of the direction his career should have taken.

—Program Note by Eric Bromberger

The listening link for this work features Leonard Bernstein. To hear him discuss the importance of the symphony’s third movement, visit https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6H4xCLKsC8

RICHARD STRAUSS
Born 1864, Munich
Died 1949, Garmisch-Partenkirchen

Don Quixote, op.35

In 1896, just after finishing Also Sprach Zarathustra, Richard Strauss set to work on a new project, one that would take him in entirely new directions. Strauss at first planned to write a tone poem based on events from Miguel de Cervantes’ Don Quixote. But rather than writing a straightforward tone poem, Strauss made his task more complicated by casting his new work as a set of variations based on a collection of themes associated with Don Quixote, his sidekick Sancho Panza, and his idealized love Dulcinea. To bring yet one more dimension to this music, Strauss conceived it as a virtuoso work for cello and orchestra, with the solo cellist cast in the role of Don Quixote. Strauss completed the score in December 1897, and the premiere took place on March 6, 1898, in Cologne, with Friedrich Grützmacher as soloist and Franz Wüllner conducting.

Strauss intended that the cello part would be played by an orchestra’s principal cellist seated in his or her normal position at the front of the cello section. But the solo part is so spectacular that the piece soon became a favorite of the great cellists, who naturally preferred to be positioned in front of the orchestra, like a soloist in a concerto; Strauss himself eventually came to conduct Don Quixote with the cellist placed in front of the orchestra. Although Don Quixote has become one of the greatest works in the cello literature, we should not overlook the other players Strauss assigns important solo roles in this music. The part of Sancho Panza is first announced by bass clarinet and tenor tuba and thereafter undertaken mostly by the solo viola, which plays a very important (and very difficult) part as the Don’s long-suffering squire; at key moments the solo violin contributes to the portrait of Don Quixote.

Don Quixote consists of an introduction, a statement of the principal themes, ten variations, and a finale. Strauss made careful use of Cervantes’ masterpiece: He depicted only a few of the many incidents in the novel and felt free to alter their order in his own presentation. Curiously, Strauss left few indications in the orchestra score as to what each variation depicts; he said he wanted audiences to listen to his works as pure music first and only then approach them as pictorial music. But Strauss left a lengthy description in the piano score, outlining each variation in great detail, and so it is possible to follow exactly what is “happening” at every moment of this music.

The Introduction presents most of the important themes that will evolve across the span of the piece. The soloists remain silent here, and it is the orchestra that presents these themes. At the very beginning comes the little flute tune that will reappear in many forms, followed by a lilting idea for second violins that Strauss marks grazioso and a clarinet swirl followed by a three-chord cadence; all of these will be associated with the Don Quixote character. Soon the solo oboe sings a gentle melody depicting the Don’s idealized lady-love and patroness, the fair Dulcinea. Trumpets mark his resolve to defend her, but quickly this noble beginning turns complex and dissonant as Quixote loses himself in dreams of knight-errantry; in Cervantes’ words, “through his little sleep and much reading, he dried up his brains in such sort, as he wholly lost his judgment.” The music reaches a point of shrieking dissonance—Don Quixote’s mind has snapped—and heroic fanfares break off in silence.

Out of that silence, the solo cello is heard for the first time in the section titled Don Quixote, the Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance: here the cello presents the Don’s themes, now in a minor key. Quickly we meet Sancho Panza, and it is no accident that we move to a major key for the genial sidekick: bass clarinet and tenor tuba sing a rustic duet that introduces the squire, and the viola quickly takes this up, going on and on like Sancho himself. With the main characters introduced, the music proceeds directly into Variation I, which brings The Adventure of the Windmills. Here Don Quixote and Sancho’s themes are sounded simultaneously as they head out for their first adventure. It comes immediately: Don Quixote mistakes windmills for giants and rides to the attack. The windmill’s blades turn slowly, and a sharp thump knocks the aged knight from his horse; he recovers slowly amid thoughts of Dulcinea. In Variation 2, the famous Battle with the Sheep, Quixote mistakes a flock of sheep for the armies of the evil Emperor Alifanfaron. Their bleating is memorably suggested by flutter-tongued minor seconds from the winds, while viola tremolos depict the cloud of dust they raise. Don Quixote charges into the flock, dispersing the terrified sheep and riding off in triumph as the shepherds howl. Longest of the variations, the third is the Dialogue of Knight and Squire: Don Quixote (here sometimes depicted by solo violin) speaks grandly of heroic deeds while Sancho chatters incessantly; finally, the knight cuts him off with a violent gesture, and the two head off in search of new adventures.

Variation 4 is The Adventure with the Penitents. The pair come upon a religious procession (solemn bassoon and brass chords) and ride to the attack; they are knocked flat and left lying in the dust as the procession fades into the distance. Variation 5 brings The Knight’s Vigil, during which he ruminates on his ideals in the moonlight as soft winds blow in the background. Variation 6 (The False Dulcinea) opens with a jaunty oboe duet: The Don and Sancho have come upon three peasant girls, and Sancho convinces the knight that they are his beloved Dulcinea and her retinue, but they have been transformed by an enchanter. Don Quixote tries to pay homage to this coarse country girl, but the cackling girls flee in confusion. In Variation 7, The Ride through the Air, the Don and Sancho are convinced to mount a hobby horse, believing that it will carry them through the air; the wind howls around them, but the two remain firmly rooted to the earth. Variation 8 is The Adventure of the Enchanted Boat, in which the pair come upon an abandoned rowboat, and Don Quixote is certain that the boat was left providentially so that they can find new adventures. They ride out into the stream but head toward a weir, tip over, and fall in; once ashore, they wring out their clothes (pizzicato notes echo the water dripping from their sopping clothes). Variation 9 is The Combat with the Two Magicians, in which they encounter a pair of Benedictine monks chatting happily as they come down the road (two bassoons in busy counterpoint); Don Quixote rides to the attack and sends the terrified monks fleeing.

In Variation 10, The Joust with the Knight of the White Moon, a well-intentioned neighbor dresses as a knight, jousts with Quixote, and defeats him. The vanquished knight is sent home under orders to give up knight-errantry for a year, and the pounding timpani pedal suggests his homeward journey in disgrace. In the Finale, the Don’s fevered imagination gradually clears (the dissonances heard during the first presentation of his themes are here resolved), but he is now an old and frail man. He recalls some of the themes associated with his adventures, and, in the cello’s beautiful final statement, he dies quietly as a long glissando glides downward.

Don Quixote is not just one of the most successful of Strauss’ tone poems, it is one of his greatest works. Strauss once claimed that he could set a glass of beer to music, and Don Quixote very nearly proves him right. His biographer, Norman Del Mar, has shown how virtually every note in this score pictures a particular feature of Don Quixote and his quest. If Strauss’ music could on occasion get caught up in its own wit and bombast, Don Quixote is suffused throughout with a level of understanding that is both humorous and humane. Strauss may have set out to write a tone poem that would retell the story of one of the greatest characters in literature, but he achieved much more: In its difficulty and brilliance, Don Quixote is (along with the Dvořák Cello Concerto) one of the two greatest works ever written for cello and orchestra.

—Program Note by Eric Bromberger

The listening link provided for this work features cellist Mstislav Rostropovich. David Finckel, our soloist at this performance, was the first American student of this phenomenal Russian cellist.