Patrie! – Bizet

When the abdication of Queen Isabella II left a vaccuum of power in Spain, wrangling over her successor erupted in open conflict on July 19th, 1870 when Emperor Napoléon III declared war on Prussia and, by extent, all of southern Germany as well. The Franco-Prussian War lasted not a year and resulted in a total defeat for France: German troops briefly occupied Paris; Napoléon III was captured and died in exile. The treaty of Frankfort brought hostilities to an end, but the resulting struggle left France in chaos.

During the runup to Napoléon’s fateful move, playwright Victorien Sardou penned a martial appeal to French nationalism: La Patrie. For the premiere, Bizet composed the present Ouverture Dramatique – a pure example of “military” music in which dashing fanfares alternate with gentler melodies evoking folk music. The narrative is clear: A call to arms goes out to the countryside and is heard by loyal Frenchmen across the realm. Leaving their homes, they answer the call and swell the ranks to carry La Patrie – the fatherland – to a rousing victory.

Fantasia para un Gentilhombre – Rodrigo

The name of Andres Segovia (1893-1987) – the “gentleman” referenced in Rodrigo’s title – all but defines classical guitar playing in the 20th century. With his countless recordings and performances, he built a canon of repertoire for the instrument and, in his own words, “..rescued [the guitar] from the hands of flamenco gypsies.”

The present Fantasia dates from 1958 and was premiered by Segovia himself in San Francisco. The four movements are based on half a dozen dances in the three-volume work Instrucción de música sobre la guitarra española by Padre Gaspar Sanz (1640-1710). These short melodies retain their titles, but are combined and developed into an extended work.

Scoring for guitar and orchestra is a challenging matter, for even the reduced group of winds and strings (“pequeña orquesta”) specified could easily overwhelm the delicate sound of an acoustic guitar. Rodrigo, however, balances his forces with great skill, deftly weaving the guitar in and out of the orchestral fabric.

Symphony No. 32 in G - Overture in Italian style – Mozart

In 1778, Mozart’s mother passed away while young Wolfgang was in Paris. His father urgently recalled him from Paris to Salzburg. Above and beyond the family’s loss, it was not a particularly happy move: Mozart had already served the archbishop of Salzburg and left discontent sixteen months prior, hoping to find better fortunes elsewhere.

The present Symphony broke a five-year hiatus in Mozart’s writing for the orchestra. Its scoring includes a sumptuous palette of trumpets, horns and woodwinds—in previous Symphonies, Mozart had used such elements sparingly or in isolated combinations; but here he pulls out all the stops. What is more remarkable, however, is the shape of the work: Audiences of the day were accustomed to a standardized four-movement symphony form that moved with clockwork regularity along an almost predictable path. “Symphony” No. 32, however, rambles in a style more akin to a ballet overture than anything Austrians would recognize as a symphony. Perhaps it was composed to mark a specific occasion (the rich orchestration would support this idea) perhaps it served to announce to Salzburg the new sounds that Mozart had experienced in France.

Carmen, Suites I & II – Bizet

Though renowned as a pianist during his lifetime, Georges Bizet is today remembered for his grand opera Carmen, written at the end of his life. By all accounts, though, the premiere was a failure: The audience was mildly impressed by the first act; but greeted the rest of the opera with silence and scorn. L’Opera Comique rather fancied itself a family-friendly institution; Carmen’s scandalous libretto was denounced as immoral. Bizet died three months later and never lived to see the acclaim later accorded the opera. Tonight’s performance presents the following excerpts from the two orchestral suites Bizet produced out of Carmen:

Prélude – As the curtain opens on Act I, Bizet’s prélude prepares us for the dark, sultry and sinister we shall soon meet in Carmen.

Aragonaise & Intermezzo – The third and second intermissions.

Les Toreadors – Here, Bizet combines the dashing overture that opens the opera with Don Escamillo’s gratuitous praise for the heroism of the bullfight about to take place: “Toreador, make ready! And think on her whom all can see – a dark-eyed lady. And think on the love that waits for you!

Habanera – Like moths to a flame, soldiers swarm over Carmen in the town square. Carmen teases the men and rebuffs their advances (“Carmen, when will you love us?”) with her well-known aria: “Love is like any rebellious forest bird that one can never hope to tame…but if I love you, beware of me!”

Danse bohème – As the curtain rises on Act II, Carmen and her friends are in an Inn. A small band of gypsies filters through the scene and the ladies are swept up in a whirling song: “The sound of sistrum bars did greet their ears with dry, metallic ringing. To this strange music soon upspringing, the gypsy girls were on their feet. The rattling, ringing tambourine and the twanging of guitars now mingle and, pinched and pounded, throb and jingle. Alike in time, alike in tune! Tra la la la”

Seguedille – Carmen has been arrested in the tobacco factory for brawling with another woman and slashing her face. After brushing off the captain of the guard’s furious interrogation (casually singing “tra la la la” while the captain explodes in rage) she is led away to prison by Don José. Carmen sings a lilting air of how she’ll soon be free: “Near the walls of Sevilla, with my good friend Lilas Pastia, I’ll soon dance the Seguidilla and drink Manzanilla. But all alone, what can one do? True joy begins when there are two; and so, to keep me company, I’ll take my lover dear with me.” Don José orders her to keep quiet, but is soon drawn into the fantasy and ultimately seduced into releasing Carmen.

Les dragons d’Alcala – After their staged “getaway” in which Don José allowed Carmen to escape, Carmen takes refuge among the gypsies. José approaches the gypsy camp singing this song: “Who goes there, dragoon (soldier) of Alcala? Where are you going, man of Alcala? I have come to make my adversary eat dust. If that is your end, man of Alcala, then cross the line, my friend. When ‘tis honor calls or love enthralls, comrades all are we, men of Alcala!”

Notes by Robert Horton