Emerson Fellowship Recital May 4, 2008

Lindy Blackburn, piano Student of Julia Bernstein

J. S. Bach Prelude and Fugue in d# minor, Well Tempered Clavier Book I, no. VIII

Beethoven

Sonata Op 110 in A-flat Major

Chopin Etude Op 10 no 1 in C Major, no 4 in c# minor

Nocturne Op 48, no 1 in c minor

Ravel Scarbo, from Gaspard de la Nuit

Within the half-century following Johann Sebastian Bach’s (1685-1750) death, the Well Tempered Clavier (Book I) had arguably become his best known work, and it continues to be one of his most famous to this day. As the title suggests, Bach makes use of all available major and minor keys in this collection of 24 preludes and fugues, taking advantage of the equal

treatment of the new tuning. Bach was not alone in this endeavor, but it is his WTC which served as a model for similar compilations from later composers. The WTC is dated 1722, though it is sure to have existed previously in parts as small, possibly teaching pieces composed over a period of time. Many had gone through substantial revision, some transposed to fit into the framework of the collection. The prelude is in fact written in e-flat minor, rather than the d# minor the fugue takes. Mathematically identical, the different keys must have meant something to Bach in terms of the character of the piece. The prelude is often described as religious, consisting of a minimalist melody, largely harmonic, on top of a accompaniment of rolled chords. The three –voice is particularly complex among the collection. It is also one of the longest fugues, and the unending rhythm of quarter and eighth-notes provides numerous interpretative challenges for the player in order not to sound pedantic as the music develops. The theme is presented numerous times, as expected, but Bach also provides the listener interesting variations – inverting the theme, as well as setting it in half-time while the original tempo plays in another voice.

Ludwig Van Beethoven (1770-1827) wrote his final set of three piano sonatas Opus 109-111 between 1820 and 1822. The sonatas fall well into what’s characterized as Beethoven’s late period, which begins around 1815, a time when he had entirely lost the ability to hear. The late sonatas are generally noted for their depth, introspective nature, and

bold style. Beethoven seems to do away with all kinds of musical baggage and norms, allowing a tremendous freedom for the bare expression in these expansive works. The first movement of the sonata begins (and ends) modestly. “Moderato cantabile, molto espressivo” with opening marks con amabilita set the tenderness which lasts throughout the piece. After opening with a harmonic motif establishing the A-flat major tonic, the highly singable theme enters with simple harmonic support in the left hand. It builds to a happy climax, but is immediately released into light arpeggiation spanning the range of the keyboard. The development section suspends the listener in the relative minor for a brief period, as the opening motif returns in the right hand accompanied by heartful and singing but ultimately resolutionless sixteenth-note lines in the left. The recapitulation begins in the unorthodox subdominant key of D-flat, leading to some even more unorthodox lyrical modulations to get back home. The second movement, Molto Allegro, is a playful scherzo. It features a large amount of contrary motion in both hands and syncopation – in the usual sense as well as by disrupting the balance of the phrase, e.g. stressing the 1st and 4th measures of the 4-bar motif. The trio section features endless undulating falling arpeggios in the right hand, as the left approaches on the off-beats from the

bottom only to have the two hands meet and rebound! only to repeat the whole thing again. Unlike the middle sonatas which put a lot of the seriousness in the first movement, the real drama of Opus 110 happens in the third and final movement. The movement begins dark and hymn-like. After the introduction, the Arioso/lament begins. The left hand contains soft and even, ever-present repeated chords. On top lies the long vocal line. In the middle of this movement, a fugue built on intervals is introduced, quite naturally for such an unexpected musical form. The fugue unfolds, and the arioso returns, but then the sky clears and a long sustained G-Major episode grows from slow, and then slower repeated chords opening to an inverted fugue in the new major key. The new section itself is marked Poi a poi di nuovo vivente – little by little new life. The fugue gains in strength, and enters back into the tonic A-flat major, reborn for the grand climax.

Fredrick Chopin’s (1810-1849) Etudes set the stage for the etude, which was traditionally a short exercise for the purpose of improving ones technique, to become a serious musical work suitable for concert performance. The Opus 10 etudes were composed between 1829 and 1833 when they were published. Chopin’s etudes represent a shift in philosophy about piano

technique, away from the brute force, strictly finger exercise which students may be acquainted with through hours of Czerny or Hannon. In comparison, Chopin’s etudes require full finger, wrist, arm and body movement to support their musical and technical demands. Technique was now not only a means to play the notes clearly and accurately, but was meant to support and facilitate the presentation of musical ideas. The first etude in C Major seems to be a very simple introduction to the set, with a line of long octaves in the left hand, with running arpeggios in the right. In reality it can provide a student months (years?) of frustration with some of the largest stretches in Chopin for the right hand, coupled with the need for accuracy over the entire range of the keyboard. First in the book, it can be the last to be completed, if ever. Chopin’s fourth etude in c# minor was meant to compliment the popularized third etude which itself was full of nostalgia and beautiful melody (the most beautiful of his by Chopin’s own assessment). The fourth in comparison is full of condensed chromatics which cycle between the hands, never ending until finally coming to a tremendous and crashing climax. Lindy Blackburn is a currently a graduate student at MIT pursuing a PhD in physics. He began his piano studies at the age of five. He currently studies with Julia Bernstein in Boston, and is a member of the MIT Chamber Music Society. Previous teachers include Inessa Litvin, Leonid Levitsky, and David Deveau of MIT.

Maruice Ravel’s (1875-1937) Gaspard de la Nuit was written after a selection of poems by Aloysius Bertrand, who published (1842) a book of the same name. The poems are works of French Modernism and a marriage of logic and clarity with horror, the grotesque and supernatural. Ravel was introduced to the literature by his oldest friend Ricardo Viñes.

He chose three for his suite, Ondine, Le Gibet, and Scarbo. The latter two were actually independent poems by Bertrand not a part of Gaspard de la Nuit. Ravel made a particularly special effort to utilize the full technical range of the piano in the suite, declaring to his friend Maurice Delgage that he wanted to write a work for piano, of transcendental virtuosity, that would be more difficult than Balakirev’s Islamey.

Scarbo Oh! How often have I heard and seen him, Scarbo, when at midnight the moon glitters in the sky like a silver shield on an azure banner strewn with golden bees. How often have I heard his laughter buzz in the shadow of my alcove, and his fingernail grate on the silk of the curtains of my bed! How often have I seen him alight on the floor, pirouette on a foot and roll through the room like the spindle fallen from the wand of a sorceress! Do I think him vanished then? The dwarf grows between the moon and me like the belfry of a gothic cathedral, a golden bell shakes on his pointed cap! But soon his body becomes blue, translucent like the wax of a candle, his face pales like the wax of a candle end – and suddenly he is extinguished.

Scarbo is a wicked dwarf. The piece is a nightmare of nervous energy and violence. Ravel had told Perlemuter, once his student, that he planned Scarbo as a caricature of romanticism, but that he let himself be carried away by it. Three main themes dominate the piece, cycling one after another. The first, a short-lived highly romantic sweep, breaks the nervous suspended introduction. The second contrasting theme is characterized by repeated staccato notes which come and stop suddenly. After some interchange, the listener is presented with the third theme, a harmonic and rhythmic passage accompanied by long stretches of broken octaves which provides growth for the largest climaxes in the piece.