Pastoral Reverence
Program Notes
by Michael Allsen
Our season begins with two wonderful musical depictions of nature. Mendelssohn’s famous Hebrides Overture was inspired by his visit to Scotland as a young man, and the experience of floating in the great watery grotto of Fingal’s Cave. Beethoven’s “Pastorale” symphony—the most joyous and peaceful of his works—celebrates his love for country life. After intermission the San Juan Symphony joins forces with the Telluride and Durango Choral Societies to perform the moving Requiem for Eagles by the late Dr. David Lingle, a much-admired figure in Telluride’s musical life. This award-winning work was completed after Lingle’s death and was premiered in Telluride and Durango in 2015.
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847)
The Hebrides, Op.26 (“Fingal’s Cave”)
In August of 1829, during a tour of Scotland, Mendelssohn visited the rugged Hebrides Islands off the Scottish coast. The composer and a travelling companion visited the isolated island of Staffa, site of Fingal’s Cave, an immense sea-carved grotto. The cave was practically a place of pilgrimage for the Romantics: there are dozens of paintings and literary descriptions from the 19th century. Sir Walter Scott’s reaction was typical—he described the cave as “…one of the most extraordinary places I ever beheld. It exceeded, in my mind, every description I had heard of it. [The cavern,] composed entirely of basaltic pillars as high as the roof of a cathedral, and running deep into the rock, eternally swept by a deep and swelling sea, and paved, as it were, with ruddy marble, baffles all description.” Mendelssohn and his friend braved seasickness and dampness to row directly into the cavern, and though he was uncomfortable, he was also deeply impressed. Later that day, he wrote to his sister Fanny: “That you might understand how deeply the Hebrides have affected me, the following came into my mind here.” He enclosed a sketch of the overture’s opening theme. Mendelssohn continued to work on the overture as he traveled, finally completing it a year later, in Rome. When The Hebrides was finally performed in London in 1832, it helped to solidify his reputation in England, where he was hailed as “a second Handel.” Critics, including Wagner and Schumann, praised the overture as a masterpiece.
The opening theme of the overture—the theme that Mendelssohn mailed to his sister—is played in dark colors by the cellos, violas, and bassoons. A turbulent transition leads to expansive major-key subject introduced by the cellos and bassoons. (The critic Donald Francis Tovey called this subject “...the greatest melody Mendelssohn ever wrote.”) The development section is concerned primarily with the opening music, spinning dramatically extended phrases from this six-note figure. An abbreviated recapitulation brings back the two main themes, the second idea these now played by the solo clarinet. The coda begins with a new idea, a brief scherzo-style statement that leads into a final reworking of the opening music.
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Symphony No.6 in F Major, Op.68 (“Pastorale”)
“No one can love the country as much as I do.”
- Beethoven
At some point in 1803, Beethoven sketched a brief musical passage of flowing triplets he titled “the murmuring of the brook”—what seems to have been the very earliest idea related to what would become his pastoral symphony. While he collected additional ideas over the next few years, the bulk of the Symphony No.6 was written in 1808, at roughly the same time as the Symphony No.5. Both symphonies were performed for the first time at a benefit concert in Vienna on December 22, 1808. The program for this landmark event also included excerpts from his Mass in C and the concert aria Ah, perfido, together with premieres of two works with Beethoven himself at the piano, the Piano Concerto No.4 and the hastily-composed Choral Fantasy.
Despite their pairing, the fifth and sixth symphonies are astonishingly different works. While later writers worked hard to hear a “program” (a “story line” or other extra-musical idea) in the fifth, it was probably conceived as an expression of purely musical ideas: particularly the intense, almost relentless development of musical themes. The sixth is clearly programmatic, however. Beethoven suggested in his own writings that this work should bring up associations of country life in the minds of its audience. The title “pastorale” is from Beethoven himself, though he was careful to make the distinction between the kind of subtle feelings he was trying express in the sixth symphony and the sensational programmatic pieces that were all the rage in France and Austria at the time. Beethoven claimed to disdain what he called mere “tone-painting”—though just five years later (somewhat to his own embarrassment) he perpetrated the cheesy “battle symphony” Wellington’s Victory. It was this programmatic aspect of the sixth that most excited Romantic musicians—it was clearly the inspiration for Berlioz’s Fantastic Symphony and Schumann’s “Spring” symphony to give just two examples. It was successful in Beethoven’s own time as well: one review of the premiere called the “Thunderstorm” movement “unsurpassedly beautiful.” Another reviewer of an early performance remarked that: “The whole work is sure to meet with great approval everywhere, so long as one enters cheerfully and with good will into the spirit of the author’s intentions, without a preconceived opinion.”
The “author’s intentions” in the sixth seem to be summed up best in an annotation to one of Beethoven’s sketches: “Pastoral Symphony—who ever also treasures country life can discover for himself what the author intends.” Beethoven’s love of the country is well-known: he enjoyed long walks in the countryside, and much of the sixth was written in a country house in the small town of Heiligenstadt outside of Vienna.
The sixth is formally innovative, abandoning the traditional four-movement plan in favor of five movements in which the last three form a single dramatic unit. The opening movement (Allegro non troppo) is set in a generously-proportioned sonata form, but unlike most of Beethoven’s first movements, there is no furious intensity in his development, but a remarkable gentleness of tone throughout. In a violin part, Beethoven made brief notes at the beginning of each of the five movements that suggest specific associations, in this case, “Pleasant, cheerful feelings aroused on approaching the countryside.” Both main themes are quiet and happy: first a country-dance tune above what might be an unchanging bagpipe drone and then a more active second theme. There are only occasional hints of the minor in the long development section, and when the recapitulation arrives, there is no great drama preceding it, but just the quiet satisfaction of a really good tune being restated by the full orchestra. The coda is also understated: a final rounding off of the main idea surrounded by witty clarinet lines.
This placid mood continues in the second movement (Andante molto moto – “Scene by the brook”). Here again he uses sonata form with none of the usual fire and fury. If he did indeed intend this as musical picture of a brook, the constantly undulating string accompaniment is the aquatic background to a series of lovely woodwind themes. Near the end there is a birdlike cadenza for solo woodwinds. As if anyone could miss his intention, Beethoven labeled these passages in the score: “nightingale,” “quail,” and “cuckoo.”
The final three movements are played without a pause. The third movement (Allegro – “Happy gathering of villagers”) is set as a scherzo, but the tempo is relaxed, as Beethoven launches a set of rustic dances. Two triple-meter themes begin this set, a jolly bagpipe-style tune and a more delicate idea passed among the flute, clarinet, and horn. The contrasting section is a rustic duple-meter dance for the full orchestra. All of these ideas are restated, and just when it seems that he is going to round off the movement, there is a quiet rumble, and the texture changes abruptly, as wandering string lines gather intensity above bass tremolos. The “Thunderstorm” doesn’t take long to break, and there is a crashing fortissimo chord and a series of lightning strikes. Beethoven used a series of shockingly dissonant chords and surprising orchestral effects to paint his storm. The storm passes quickly however, leaving a calm, pastoral duet of clarinet and horn to introduce the finale (Allegretto – “Shepherd’s song. Grateful thanks to the Almighty after the storm”). The main idea is serene and hymnlike: Beethoven wrote the words “Herr, wir danken dir”—Lord, we thank you—in his score at this point. This melody appears in both varied and original forms throughout the movement. Once more, the mood is tranquil throughout, as the movement weaves its unhurried way to a quiet conclusion.
David Lingle (1954-2013)
Requiem for Eagles
completed by Dalen Stevens
Conductor and composer Dr. David Lingle was born in northern Wisconsin, but spent much of his career in the southwest—working in Tulsa, Telluride, and San Antonio. Shortly before his death from cancer, he had moved to Brewster, MA to take up new position as a church music director. He is remembered with special affection in Telluride, where he lived from 2002-2009, serving as Director of the Telluride Choral Society, as Director at Christ Presbyterian Church, and as a frequent music director for local musical theater productions. During his tenure in Telluride, Lingle also worked successfully to bring the San Juan Symphony to perform there.
His Requiem for Eagles was given a partial performance in San Antonio in 2012, but the piece was left largely unfinished at the time of his death. Friends from his time in Telluride worked with the composer’s family to secure the unfinished score and other material, and over the next two years, Lingle’s friend and colleague Dalen Stevens (now director of the Telluride Choral Society) prepared a completed score for chorus, orchestra, and organ. This version premiered in Telluride and Durango in October 2015, in a joint performance by the Telluride and Durango Choral Societies, directed by Linda Mack Berven. In April 2016, Lingle was posthumously honored with the prestigious Chorus America / ASCAP Alice Parker Award for the work.
The Latin Requiem, or Mass for the Dead, has been set to music hundreds of times since the 15th century. This emotional text, with its heartfelt prayers for the souls of the dead has been approached many ways by different composers, from Mozart’s solemn Requiem (also left unfinished at the composer’s death), to the titanic and sometimes terrifying settings by Berlioz and Verdi, to the more tender versions of Fauré and Duruflé. Lingle’s vision of the Requiem was unique, however. He noted that the structure of the work was borrowed from that of Gabriel Fauré—that is, omitting most of the lengthy Dies irae chant, with its scary end-of-the-world imagery, and focusing on the more consoling movements of the Requiem, including the gentle closing prayer In Paradisum. However, Lingle also drew inspiration from Native American culture and spirituality. His first teaching job had been at the Pine Ridge reservation in South Dakota, and while working in Tulsa, he spent a great deal of time on the Cherokee reservation in Oklahoma. The overriding symbol however is the eagle. According to Dalen Stevens, the eagle—a potent symbol in Native American spirituality—representative kind of personal totem to Lingle, representing life’s passages. Stevens adds: “In celebrating the life of the individual, we celebrate the life of us all – the passage of life through death into life again and again and again.” Lingle’s Requiem for Eagles. then, not only uses the traditional Latin text, but also the inserts a poignant American hymn. According to Jeanne Bandy, President of the Durango Choral Society Board “It invokes the supernatural in the form of a sacred eagle totem leading the wild and lost birds into paradise. I can’t help but feel as if I am flying with those birds as I sing the score.”
The Requiem for Eagles is in seven movements, corresponding to chants of the Latin Requiem. After a solemn orchestral introduction, the choir prayerfully intones the Introit (Requiem aeternam), with the impassioned prayer at the end leading directly to the more exalted Kyrie
A pensive woodwind quartet sets the Offertory (O Domine Jesu Christe), which has a distinctly liturgical feel, with chantlike unison lines and simple counterpoint. There is a distinct change in texture at Hostias (“We offer to you, O Lord, sacrifices and prayers”) reflecting the heartfelt plea of the text. The movement ends with a return of the opening mood and a passionate Amen.
The Sanctus is traditionally one of the most forceful movements in settings of the Requiem and Lingle maintains this tradition—setting this exalted text in an almost dancelike way. A solo tenor carries the supplicative lines of Pie Jesu above a quiet background before this prayer is picked up by the chorus. The Agnus Dei is sung with great tenderness above a gently lilting orchestral accompaniment.
The Libera me contains only moments of anger and Judgment Day in the Requiem for Eagles. Opening with a solemn processional from the brass, the text is is set as a kind of plodding march, leading to a dissonant climax on the word ignem (fire). While the traditional Libera me includes a brief reference to the sequence Dies irae, Lingle inserts about half of the Dies irae text here: sung with an almost breathless, fearful quality, ending with what is almost a shout. After this dark imagery, In paradisum closes the Requiem with the calm assurance of salvation and peace. After setting the Latin text in calm and consoling music, Lingle steps away from the traditional Latin text to include an updated version of the 19th-century American folk hymn, The Lone Wild Bird, with its repeated line “where you fly, I will follow.” The Requiem for Eagles ends with a short reprise of the opening movement and a fervent Amen.
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notes ©2017 by J. Michael Allsen