Michelle Cann Plays Florence Price

at the Helsinki Institute of Music. Unfortunately, the combination of Sibelius only completing the work just before the concert and Nováček not really being a soloist resulted in the premier being a flop. Subsequently, Sibelius made several revisions to the work and brought out the new version in 1905. Willy Burmester was again asked to perform, but again he could not make the concert and so the orchestra concertmaster became the soloist. By this time, Burmester was fed up with the whole process and refused to ever play the concerto. Thus, Sibelius ended up dedicating it to the Hungarian prodigy Ferenc von Vecsey. cadenza, which Sibelius inserts at the beginning of the development section. The movement ends with an extraordinary display of octaves as the solo violin and orchestra have one last argument. The two reconcile in the second movement and we get a glorious, expansive solo melody that is lovingly supported by the orchestra.

The last movement features a string technique that is endearingly known as “shoe-shine” bowing. The melody is a jaunty dotted rhythm in which every beat has one fast note. That note is played by snapping the bow away from the body in a downward motion, like an old-fashioned shoeshine. It is an easy and satisfying technique to execute. Meanwhile, the orchestra supplies an actual heartbeat, helping to propel the music into a marvelous climax in the middle of the piece. The “shoeshine” music returns and the solo

Interestingly, the original version, a technically farmore difficult work, remained hidden to violinists until 1991, when the heirs of Sibelius allowed the Greek virtuoso, Leonidas Kavakos, access to the original manuscripts. Out of this came the sole recording of the original concerto on the BIS label with Osmo Vänskä conducting the Lahti Symphony Orchestra. To this writer’s ears, the revisions turned a good but typical-sounding concerto into a brilliant, evocative masterpiece. Speaking of evocative, the opening is one of the most unique, mesmerizing moments in concerto literature. The upper strings play a quiet D minor ostinato that is both alive and incredibly still, like mist over a frozen lake. The solo violin appears like a ship in the distance, playing a melody that seems devoid of rhythm or meter. Indeed, often throughout the first movement the violin and orchestra are seemingly at odds with each other, equal partners in a dynamic conversation. The soloist decides to interrupt the conversation with the

violin is swept up again into the stormy orchestra. Surprisingly, after such dramatic music, the ending is simply the solo violin climbing up to the final note with the orchestra supplying a couple of chords.

Leonore Overture No. 3 in C major, Op. 72b

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)

Believe it or not, there are 4 Leonore overtures! Beethoven began writing an opera in 1804, initially called Leonore and it premiered a year later in Vienna a week after Napoleon invaded the city. The first overture he composed (what we now call Leonore No. 2) was more symphonic than the one you will hear tonight, yet both pieces feature powerful, dramatic music that ultimately would have been too much heard right before the subdued opening scene of the opera. Beethoven realized this and wrote a third overture that better introduces the opera, a work subsequently renamed Fidelio at the request of the theater. At one point, however, there was going to be a production of Leonore in Prague in 1807 for which Beethoven worked out yet one more version of the overture. That score was only found after Beethoven’s death and scholars of the mid-nineteenth century thought it was the earliest version, so it was labeled Leonore No. 1. As if this was not confusing enough, there began in the mid-1800s a tradition of inserting the entire Leonore No. 3 right before the final scene in productions of Fidelio. No less a conductor than Toscanini favored this idea, although by the 1950s it had fallen out of favor.

Musically, this overture has all the characteristics of a great Beethoven work: surprising key changes; sudden dynamic changes; long, suspenseful buildups; passages in off-beats; and, of course, stirring tunes. Listen for the off-stage trumpet, heralding that Florestan, the main character, has received a commuted sentence and will be freed from prison. Later in the piece, the flute, oboe and first violins seemingly run out of steam as they get softer and almost fade into nothingness. Suddenly, the violins explode with a cascade of rising scales that soar upward, change direction, then begin repeating as the other string sections join in, one at a time. It is another exhilarating moment of Beethoven’s genius!