From Paris, con amor
Tonight’s program brings together the music of three Latin-American and two French masters. Though not directly related, the works show the inherent affinity between these two great cultures. During the 20th century, numerous Latin American composers, writers and painters settled in Paris in order to further their studies and immerse themselves in French culture. Spending time in Paris came to be seen as providing a required final validation for an already well-established Latin-American artist. Naturally, the degree to which French traits filtered through to the music of these Latin-American artists was unique to each composer or composition, and—in some cases—had its roots in an earlier encounter.
HÉITOR VILLA-LOBOS: Improviso (Melodia) (1915)
Such was the case with Héitor Villa-Lobos (1887–1959), who met the French composer Darius Milhaud in Brazil in 1917. Milhaud, living in Rio de Janeiro as secretary to Ambassador Paul Claudel, introduced the young Brazilian to the music of Debussy, Satie, and others (Milhaud and Villa-Lobos remained life-long friends). Though already utilizing native Brazilian idioms, Villa-Lobos’ music from this early period clearly shows a European influence.
Improviso, a beautiful, late-Romantic melody, was premiered in Rio’s Salão Nobre by violinist Mário Caminha and the composer’s wife, Lucilia Villa-Lobos.
O Canto do Cisne Negro (song of the black swan) was an extract from the symphonic poem Naufrágio de Kleônicos, initially arranged by the composer for cello and piano. There is a distinct French flavor in the work’s simple, flowing texture. One wonders whether Villa-Lobos was aware of Saint-Saëns's famous “Le cygne” (the swan) from Carnival of the Animals (1886).
A mariposa na luz (the moth around the flame) is a portrayal of a moth frantically circling around a lamp, until it meets a tragic end, marked by two snapping pizzicatti in the violin. Likewise, an arrangement of a movement from a larger orchestral work, the work’s biting violin writing brings to mind the last movement of Ravel’s Sonata for Violin and Piano (next on this program), another Perpetuum mobile.
Upon his arrival in Paris in 1923, Villa-Lobos famously stated: “I have not come to learn, I have come to show what I have made up to now,” hinting that his musical language was already defined, and thus not open to influences. Yet these early works bear the obvious mark of French musical sensibility. Villa-Lobos lived in Paris again between 1927 and 1930, and he made Paris his European base from 1950 till his death.
MAURICE RAVEL: Sonata No. 2 for Violin and Piano (1923–1927)
Meanwhile, in France, a different cross-cultural trend had been growing. From 1923 to 1927, the classic blues band of W.C. Handy introduced St. Louis blues to Paris audiences. In a 1928 article for The Musical Digest, composer Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) wrote: “Abroad, we take jazz seriously. It is influencing our work. The blues in my sonata, par example, is stylized jazz, more French than American in character perhaps, but nevertheless influenced strongly by your so-called ‘popular’ music.”
In its clear lines and sparse pianistic textures, Ravel’s Sonata for Violin and Piano pays homage to another musical style, baroque. The unencumbered piano writing provides a transparent complement to the violin, and oftentimes the two exchange figurations and melodic material. The blues second movement is a case in point, with the two instruments trading strumming (in a cake-walk fashion) and singing in turns. The concluding Perpetuum mobile is a non-stop virtuoso showpiece primarily for the violin, with the piano providing rhythmic support and harmonic pungency—indeed, quite like Villa-Lobos’ A mariposa na luz.
SILVESTRE REVUELTAS: Three Pieces for Violin and Piano (1932)
Silvestre Revueltas (1899–1940), the "great free spirit of Mexican music," was born on the very eve of the 20th century: December 31, 1899. After early training as a violinist, he concentrated his talents on conducting and composition. At Carlos Chávez's invitation, he served as assistant conductor of the Mexico Symphony Orchestra from 1929 to 1935 and taught violin and composition at the National Conservatory of Music in Mexico City, also conducting the Conservatory Orchestra. In 1937, he conducted several of his orchestral works in Spain, lending his support to the Republican cause during the Spanish Civil War. In October 1940, barely 40 years old, he succumbed to pneumonia. In his last decade, Revueltas was astonishingly productive, writing almost 40 works—including six pieces for full orchestra and eight film scores—that demonstrated a mature, vitally individual voice.
Revueltas’s three pieces for violin and piano (Allegro – Lentamente – Allegro) were written when the composer had a duo partnership with Carlos Chávez in the piano. Together they performed many pieces written by themselves and by other contemporary composers. The typical strident and sardonic language of Revueltas is not without its melodic vein here, and the Mexican contours of his musical lines is evident. The virtuosity in the violin part shows us the notable level Revueltas had attained as a violinist.
MANUEL M. PONCE: Jeunesse (1908) and Estrellita (1912)
In Mexico, the long dictatorship of Porfirio Díaz (1884–1911), a fervent admirer of France, brought French culture to the forefront. French music thus made its mark on the early musical language of Mexican composer Manuel M. Ponce (1882–1948). Ponce entered the National Conservatory of Music in 1901, traveled to Italy in 1904 for studies in Bologna, and to Germany, where he studied in Berlin between 1906 and 1908.
Written after his return to Mexico, both pieces on tonight’s program contain a distinct French flavor, while still rooted in Mexican lyricism. Estrellita (little star) is perhaps Ponce’s most famous work. It was transcribed for violin and piano by violinist Jascha Heifetz, who was in Mexico City in 1923 on tour. While in a café there, he heard a local musician sing Estrellita; he took notes on his napkin, and composed his arrangement that night. It became one of his favorite encores. Jeunesse (youth) was written as a violin and piano work, though its sentimentality reflects the vocal song tradition. Between 1925 and 1933 Ponce lived in Paris, edited a music periodical and studied with Paul Dukas. Villa-Lobos, reporting on his meeting with Ponce in Paris, wrote: “I remember that I asked him at that time if the composers of his country were as yet taking an interest in native music, as I had been doing since 1912, and he answered that he himself had been working in that direction. It gave me great joy to learn that in that distant part of my continent there was another artist who was arming himself with the resources of the folklore of his people in the struggle for the future musical independence of his country.”
GABRIEL FAURÉ: Sonata No. 1 in A Major, op. 13 for Violin and Piano (1877)
We circle back in time to Gabriel Fauré (1845–1925), who was a pupil of Camille Saint-Saëns, and whose imaginative use of texture and harmony were to pave the way for the innovations of Debussy and Ravel. Fauré dedicated his Violin Sonata No. 1 to Paul Viardot, a superb violinist who, for a while, looked to become Fauré’s brother-in-law. The sonata was Fauré’s first important chamber work, and to this day it remains perhaps the most popular of all his chamber works, cherished for its freshness and verve, its characteristic balance of elegant restraint and romantic ardor.
Though all four movements are constructed along traditional lines (the first, second and last in sonata form), the music is confidently and profoundly individual, quite unlike any chamber music that had been heard before. While ambitious in scope and highly virtuosic for both players, Fauré’s writing shows a predilection for neoclassical reserve, which would have been alien to an era more accustomed to big-boned Romanticism. In that, as well, it foreshadows the musical tendencies of his most famous pupil, Ravel.
Above all, Fauré was among the greatest French composers, with melodies that never failed to soar. It is this human urge to sing, then, which is perhaps the most obvious common thread for the works on tonight’s program, transcending borders and uniting cultures.
