WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART
Born 1756, Salzburg
Died 1791, Vienna

Overture and Chorus of The Priests
The Magic Flute, K.620

As he often did, Mozart delayed writing the overture to The Magic Flute until almost the last minute: The premiere took place in Vienna on September 30, 1791, and Mozart wrote the overture on the 28th. Curiously, though Mozart was pressed for time, he did not base the overture on themes from the opera (his frequent practice) but instead wrote one using entirely new material. The only part of the opera that appears in the overture are three solemn chords. Three was a number with mystical meaning in Masonic ritual (the overture is in E-flat major, a key with three flats), and in the opera those chords herald the beginning of Sarastro’s ritual initiation of Tamino in Act II. These three massive chords, solemnly intoned by the full orchestra (an orchestra that includes three trombones), open the overture’s brief introduction, setting the tone for the opera’s high moral message. But at the Allegro, the music bursts forward suddenly, establishing the mood of sparkling fun that is also so much a part of The Magic Flute. The overture is in sonata form, and the exposition begins as a fugue, introduced by the second violins. Mozart will use this fugal opening as the first theme group; the second, the simplest of lyric figures, arrives in the solo woodwinds. And then a surprise: Mozart brings matters to a complete halt at the end of the exposition with a return of the three solemn chords from the overture’s beginning. The development begins in minor-key urgency, pressing ahead on the fugal material. The overture drives to a great climax and, riding along the splendid sound of timpani and the large brass section, comes to a ringing close, having established perfectly the mood for the action that will follow.

In the second act, the hero Tamino and his comic sidekick, the birdcatcher Papageno, must undergo a series of trials to determine if they are worthy of being received into the fellowship of Isis and Osiris. Papageno of course fails completely (but is rewarded with a beautiful young wife), while Tamino endures and is reunited with his love, Pamina. In the course of Tamino’s trials, he is observed by a chorus of priests, who sing optimistically yet solemnly to the gods Isis and Osiris about his progress toward enlightenment: He is bold, he is pure; soon he will be worthy of us.

—Program Notes by Eric Bromberger

GIUSEPPE VERDI
Born 1813, Roncole
Died 1801, Milan

“Va, pensiero” from Nabucco

Nabucco was Verdi’s first success. Composed in 1842, when the 29-year-old composer had just endured some crushing failures and was on the verge of giving up composing, Nabucco proved so successful that it was given 57 times during the following season, and within 10 years it had been produced throughout Europe and as far away as New York and Buenos Aires.

The opera tells of Nebuchadnezzar’s capture of Jerusalem and of the plight of the Jews in their Babylonian captivity. (The Italian word for Nebuchadnezzar is the unwieldy and almost unsingable Nabucodonosor, and so Verdi and his librettist Temistocle Solera shortened it to Nabucco.) The opera is remarkable for its dramatic use of the chorus, which has some of the best music in the opera.

The opera’s most famous music, the chorus Va, pensiero, is sung by the Jews during their Babylonian captivity in Part 3. Its first lines set the tone of nostalgic longing that have made it so popular:

Fly, thought, on golden wings;
rest upon the slopes and hills,
where, soft and mild, the air
of our native land smells sweet!

GIUSEPPE VERDI
“Anvil Chorus” from Il Trovatore

First performed in Rome in 1853, Il Trovatore has become one of the most famous operas ever composed, despite (or perhaps because of) its really horrifying events, such as a woman and babies burned to death, false imprisonment, bloody revenge, and some spectacular cases of mistaken identity gone tragically wrong.

The Anvil Chorus, one of the opera’s most famous moments, comes at the beginning of Act II. A group of gypsies stirs to life as dawn breaks on their encampment in the mountains of Spain, and as the day brightens they sing this lusty chorus in praise of wine, hard work, and the beauty of gypsy women. The men start fires, heat sword blades, and pound them with hammers as they sing, and a nice feature of Verdi’s setting is the fact that the clink of their hammers comes on the off-beat rather than the downbeat. The tune of that chorus has taken on a life of its own, from its use in Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Pirates of Penzance to becoming the tune of the American popular song “Hail! Hail! The gang’s all here.”

—Program Notes by Eric Bromberger

GEORGES BIZET
Born 1838, Paris
Died 1875, Bougival, France

Prelude, “Aragonaise,” Intermezzo, and “March of the Toreadors” from Carmen

Bizet’s opera of passion, jealousy, and murder–was a failure at its first performance in Paris in March 1875. The audience seemed outraged at the idea of a loose woman and murder onstage at the Opéra-Comique, and Bizet died three months later at age 37, never knowing that he had written what would become one of the most popular of all operas.

After Bizet’s death, his publisher felt that the music was too good to lose, so he commissioned the French composer Ernest Guiraud to arrange excerpts from Carmen into two orchestral suites of six movements each. The music has everything going for it: excitement, color, and (best of all) instantly recognizable tunes. From today’s vantage point, it seems impossible that this opera could have been anything but a smash success from the first instant.

This concert offers four orchestral excerpts from Guiraud’s first suite, and these include some wonderful writing for solo woodwinds: flute, oboe, English horn, clarinet, and bassoon all have their moment to shine in this beautifully scored music.

The opening Prelude to Act I presents the ominous “fate motif” that will return throughout the opera, while the “Aragonaise” (which functions as an interlude before Act IV) is based on an old Andalusian folk song and features the sound of castanets and a haunting oboe solo. The graceful Intermezzo, with its limpid flute solo over harp accompaniment, is an interlude before Act III.

“The March of the Toreadors” first recalls the Prelude to Act I, then introduces the toreadors as they march across the square in Seville; Bizet’s music, with its energy and bristling rhythms, catches some of their swagger. In the center section, violins sing the famous “Toreador Song,” and the movement concludes with the return of its opening march.

—Program Notes by Eric Bromberger

RICHARD WAGNER
Born 1813, Leipzig
Died 1883, Venice

“Bridal Chorus” from Lohengrin

Wagner composed Lohengrin, which he described as a “Romantic Opera in Three Acts,” between 1845 and 1848. It was first performed in Weimar on August 28, 1850, under the direction of Liszt, who told the composer: “Your Lohengrin is a noble work from beginning to end. In more than a few places, it brought tears to my eyes.” Wagner was not at that performance, and he did not see a production of the opera for another 11 years. His participation in the revolutionary movement of 1848 had led to a warrant for his arrest in Germany, and he had fled to Switzerland. He spent the night of the premiere of Lohengrin at the tavern Zum Schwanen in Lucerne, where he followed with his watch what was happening at that same second in Germany.

Set in 10th-century Antwerp, the opera tells of the mysterious Lohengrin, knight of the Holy Grail; his bride, the pure but troubled Elsa; and the plot against them by the evil Telramund and his wife Ortrud. The women of bridal party sing the Bridal Chorus as they accompany Elsa to her bridal chamber at the beginning of Act III. Their text suggests the holiness of this moment along with the joys marriage will bring.

This music has moved into popular culture under the title “Here Comes the Bride.”

RICHARD WAGNER
“Entry of the Guests” from Tannhäuser

The idea of the redemptive power of love would engage Wagner throughout his life: It lies at the core of Der fliegender Hollander, Lohengrin, Tristan und Isolde, the Ring Cycle, and even in some ways in Parsifal. It is also central to Tannhäuser, which Wagner composed between 1843 and 1845. Set in the 13th century, the opera tells of the minstrel-knight Tannhäuser, who is trapped by the sensual claims of Venusberg and is living a dissolute life in that grotto of love. Weary of the flesh and longing for something purer and finer, he appeals to the Virgin Mary and instantly finds himself back in his native Thuringia, where he once loved the pure Elizabeth. The locals sense where he has been and turn on him, but he vows to make a pilgrimage to Rome. hat trip proves pointless when the pope dismisses his appeal, and the bitter Tannhäuser returns to Thuringia, defiant and vowing to go back to Venusberg. But Elizabeth, who has remained faithful to him in his absence, appeals to the Virgin Mary, hoping that she might die and offer her death as a means of redeeming Tannhäuser’s soul. She departs on that fatal journey, and her death is announced by the approach of her funeral cortege. Recognizing her sacrifice for him, Tannhäuser, his soul finally released, falls dead.

The “Entry of the Guests” takes place in Act II as nobles, their ladies, and minstrels arrive at the Minstrels’ Hall in Wartburg for a singing contest. Appropriately, the music is a march, full of blazing trumpet fanfares and several stirring march tunes. When all have taken their places, the guests sing their joyful greeting to the hall and to their prince.

—Program Notes by Eric Bromberger

RUGGIERO LEONCAVALLO
Born 1857, Naples
Died 1919, Montecatini

Intermezzo and “Chorus of the Bells” from Pagliacci

Verismo (“realism”) swept through Italian opera at the end of the nineteenth century like a sudden rush of blood and fire. Opera had traditionally told of royalty and mythic figures, but now the subjects were everyday people with everyday emotions, and, far from being noble, their actions were often tawdry and violent. Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana (1890)—a tale of seduction, infidelity, and revenge—seemed to define the movement, and in 1892, a struggling young composer named Ruggiero Leoncavallo wrote a brief two-act opera that was heavily influenced by Mascagni’s opera. It was shocking in its violence and psychological penetration, and its premiere on May 21, 1892 was an instant success (some of that success was due to the conductor, a very young man named Arturo Toscanini).

Leoncavallo said that the source of the story was a murder in his hometown; his father, the local judge, presided at the trial. Pagliacci has an ingenious plot: It tells the story of a group of traveling players, a commedia dell’ arte troupe, that comes to perform in a small town. Canio, the group’s leader (a role made famous by Enrico Caruso), is worried about his wife’s fidelity, and with good reason; he threatens to kill anyone who attempts to make love to her. The second act is the play itself put on before the townspeople. In the course of the play, the same marital situation comes up, and Canio, driven mad with jealousy, suddenly breaks out of character, stabs to death both his wife and her lover, and proclaims “La commedia è finita!” as the curtain comes down.

The Intermezzo is the orchestral interlude between the opera’s two acts, and thus it separates Canio’s threatening his wife with a dagger at the end of Act I from the opening of the play at the beginning of Act II. Only three minutes long, it opens with a twisting, ominous gesture from the strings, marked drammaticamente, and then proceeds into the violins’ opening theme, marked con tristezza (“with sadness”) and on to a further violin theme marked con anima. And then, suddenly, it is over.

The vigorous Chorus of the Bells comes from the opera’s first scene. It is evening, and as the vesper bells ring in the background, happy townspeople sing this chorus, full of excitement and expectancy.

—Program Note by Eric Bromberger

GIOACCHINO ROSSINI
Born 1792, Pesaro
Died 1868, Paris

Overture to The Barber of Seville

From the moment of its premiere in Rome on February 20, 1816, Rossini’s The Barber of Seville has been an audience favorite. The opera is one of the finest examples of opera buffa, full of witty music and comic intrigue in the battle of the sexes, and one of the most popular parts has always been its overture, which sets exactly the right mood for all the fun to follow.

Yet this overture had originally been composed three years earlier as the introduction to a tragic opera, Aureliano in Palmira. And, two years later, Rossini used it again as the overture to his historical opera about Queen Elizabeth I, Elisabetta, Regina d’Inghilterra. Finally, in 1816, it became the overture to The Barber of Seville. It seems hard to believe that an overture composed for a tragic opera could function so perfectly as the introduction to a comic tale—yet it does, and the music continues to work its charm.

In modified sonata-form, the overture is scored for Mozart’s orchestra (pairs of winds, plus timpani and strings) with the addition of one very non-classical instrument, a bass drum. The overture begins with a slow introduction marked Andante maestoso, which features crashing chords, gathering energy, and a beautifully poised melody for violins. The music rushes ahead at the Allegro con brio, with its famous “laughing” main theme, full of point and expectancy. Solo oboe introduces the second theme-group, marked dolce, and this alternates with the main violin theme. Along the way are several of the lengthy crescendos that were a virtual Rossini trademark (his nickname was “Monsieur Crescendo”), and one of these drives this sparkling music home in a great blast of energy.

—Program Note by Eric Bromberger

ALEXANDER BORODIN
Born 1833, St. Petersburg
Died 1887, St. Petersburg

“Polovetsian Dances” from Prince Igor

Alexander Borodin was a member of The Five, the group of Russian nationalist composers that included Rimsky-Korsakov, Cui, Balakirev, and Mussorgsky. But Borodin was a composer only in his spare time, for by profession he was a chemistry professor and research scientist at the Academy of Medicine and Surgery in St. Petersburg. So great were his professional demands that Borodin could find time to compose only when on vacation or when ill. Knowing of these demands, his friends would jokingly wish him ill health when they parted; it was their way of wishing that he could find more time to compose.

One of the consequences of the demands on his time was that Borodin left several works incomplete when he died suddenly in 1887 at age 53. Among these was the one that would have been his masterpiece: the opera Prince Igor, based on the story of Prince Igor of Novgorod, a Russian Christian who in 1185 led an expedition against an invasion by the nomadic Polovetsians. Borodin worked intermittently on Prince Igor from 1869 until his death, but even in those 18 years he was unable to finish the opera, which was eventually completed by Rimsky-Korsakov and Glazunov, who worked from the composer’s sketches.

Although Prince Igor is rarely staged, some of the music from the opera has become famous on its own. The Polovetsian Dances were written at an early stage in the composition of the opera in 1875 and first performed in March 1879; they had become popular while Borodin was still laboring on the rest of the opera. The Dances form the Finale of Act II of the opera. Prince Igor and his son have been captured by the leader of the Polovetsians, the mighty Khan Kontchak, who tries to cheer up his prisoners by offering them gifts, women from his harem, or even release if Prince Igor will promise to lay down his arms. When these offers are refused, Kontchak orders a brilliant entertainment for Prince Igor, whom he greatly respects.

Slaves enter to a brief Andantino, and the first dance quickly begins. The women slaves sing of the beauty of their homeland in music that is familiar to millions from the operetta Kismet, where it became the song Strangers in Paradise. This is followed by a savage dance for the men, given out first by a swirling solo clarinet. The timpani leads to the general dance: themes from the earlier dances are reprised as all sing of their devotion to their leader, the music gradually mounts in excitement, and the curtain to the second act comes down as slaves and dancers shout out “Hail Khan Kontchak!”

—Program Note by Eric Bromberger