ASO at UKARIA
Questions & Answers

Wed 3 Jun UKARIA Cultural Centre 
Duration approximately 1 hour and 50 mins, including interval

Program

Ives The Unanswered Question (1908 version) [6′] 

Copland Appalachian Spring: Suite (chamber version) [23′] 

– INTERVAL –

Dvorák Serenade in D Minor Op.44 [24′] 
I. Moderato quasi marcia  
II. Menuetto – Trio: Presto 
III. Andante con moto  
IV. Finale: Allegro molto  

Haydn Symphony No.45 in F-sharp Minor Farewell [25′] 
I. Allegro assai  
II. Adagio  
III. Menuet: Allegretto  
IV. Presto – Adagio

Program Note

A question for you. What do you hear when you listen to music? Ideas, landscapes, characters, or something else entirely? No need to answer. Just listen.

Charles Ives (1874-1954) was a staunchly independent thinker. The son of a US Army bandleader, he grew up surrounded by music but ultimately pursued a successful career in insurance. Financial security gave him an untrammelled freedom to experiment, creatively. In The Unanswered Question, for example, he pursues an idea in sound, juxtaposing smooth harmonies played by strings against a jagged line from a solo trumpet and clusters of crunchy, dissonant chords from a trio of wind instruments. Ives writes an introductory note, describing the strings as ‘The Silence of the Druids – Who Know, See and Hear nothing’, the trumpet as ‘The Perennial Question of Existence’ and the woodwinds as the ‘Fighting Answerers’. The answer, of course, lies elsewhere.

Aaron Copland (1900-1990) inherited Ives’ keen ear but made a conscious choice to swerve away from chromaticism into simplicity and accessibility. Appalachian Spring started life as a ballet commissioned for dancer and choreographer Martha Graham. Written in 1943, two years into America’s entry into the war, Graham craved answers, not questions. She asked Copland for music that might evoke, “a legend of American living, like a bone structure, the inner frame that holds together a people.” Copland responded with a score which tells the story of two newlyweds coming home to their house in the fertile plains at the foot of the mighty Adirondacks. Joy, doubt and apprehension for the future culminate in quiet hope, expressed by Copland’s setting of a Shaker hymn tune, ‘Simple Gifts.’  

Prague, 1875. A struggling music teacher and would-be composer by the name of Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904) was beginning to enjoy some success. First, an annual stipend from the Austrian government allowed him to become a full-time composer. Then, with a recommendation from Johannes Brahms, his music was picked up by the publisher Franz Simrock. Finally, Czech music critic Louis Ehlert came out in support of his latest orchestral work, the dazzling Slavonic Dances. Dvořák wrote his Wind Serenade, dedicated to Ehlert, in just two weeks, and it had its first performance, conducted by the composer in 1878. 

Like the Slavonic Dances, the Serenade is powered by dance rhythms, from the mercurial dumka to the dashing furiant. But in addition to the music’s irresistible swing, Dvořák fully explores the different characters of the 13 instruments making up this ensemble. Listen out, for example, for the bassoon, cello and bass in the first movement, portrayed as the gruff people who can’t resist having the last word. Or the finale, where the bubbling clarinets sound like they can barely control their glee. 

The final work of the evening is not so much a question as a request – when can we go home? – asked in Joseph Haydn’s (1732–1809) Symphony No. 45 ‘Farewell’. In the endless summer of 1772, the musicians of Prince Nikolai Esterhazy’s private band, were longing to leave Esterhaza, the Prince’s palatial holiday home in the wilds of rural Hungary, and get back to their families in Vienna. A tricky situation, but the Kapellmeister, one Joseph Haydn, managed to turn an incipient workplace dispute into an elegant musical plea to his boss. The work starts ominously, trouble brewing as it drives forwards with urgency and suspense. The second movement, by contrast, is all delicacy and understatement, with a melody characterised by grace notes, like a very polite person hesitating to ask… The third movement puts difficult questions aside for an eloquent minuet and trio. Then comes the finale, full of renewed vigour, and demonstrating the vibrant virtuosity of the band in a gallop to the end. Except that it doesn’t end there. No spoilers, but Kapellmeister Haydn gets the last word. And, according to historical accounts, his tactics work, with the musicians given leave the very next day!

© Harriet Cunningham

Artists

Adelaide Symphony Orchestra

The Adelaide Symphony Orchestra and UKARIA honours our First Nations by fostering a shared sense of respect for this land, and we acknowledge and pay our respects to the Peramangk, traditional custodians of the land on which the Cultural Centre stands.