Franz Schubert (1797-1828)
Der Hirt auf dem Felsen (1828)
The Shepherd on the Rock

Possibly the last work that Schubert ever composed, Der Hirt auf dem Felsen was written for the great Berlin Court Opera singer Anna Milder Hauptmann. She had asked him not for an art-song, which he had done for her before, but a real show-stopper, “one which can be sung in a variety of measures, so that several emotions can be represented...I leave the choice to you, so that there may be a brilliant ending.”

The text is the lament of a shepherd up with his flock waiting for spring to come when he can see his loved one again. He flings his voice off into the valley below and listens to the echo that returns. When he realizes how far away she is, he is deeply saddened and this leads to the slow middle section. But then the thought of spring’s arrival brings him renewed energy and hope and the piece segues into the happy, lilting and virtuosic third section. The echo is of course played by the clarinet. Interestingly, the work begins and ends with the echo, that is, the clarinet.

It stands to this day as perhaps the greatest and most beloved work for soprano, clarinet and piano.

Carl Maria von Weber (1786-1826)
Quintet in Bb Major, Op. 34 (1815)

Carl Maria von Weber is perhaps best known as the creator of the German school of romantic opera, which he spawned with his famous Der Freischütz in 1821. He is also credited with transforming the position of the orchestra conductor from that of a time-beater to a modern day maestro who controls and shapes an entire performance. Like many of the great composers of his day, he was also a great piano virtuoso and he had immense hands that no doubt encouraged him to write piano works with great stretches and leaps that at times seem humanly impossible.

It was a decade earlier around 1810, however, that Weber began an association that led him to be one of the most famous composers of clarinet music. Arriving in Munich in March of 1811 for an extended stay, he sought out the help of clarinetist Heinrich Baermann to assist him in a court performance. Baermann agreed provided that Weber would write him a new work to play. Weber obliged by writing the Concertino, Op. 26 for him in just three days! The performance was so successful that the king of Bavaria immediately commissioned Weber to write two more concerti for Baermann—the F minor Op. 73 and the E-Flat major, Op. 74—both of which Weber completed in 1811. These works also became immensely popular as Baermann used them regularly on his tours.

Soon after that, Weber started on the Quintet in Bb major, Op. 34. In fact, he finished the Menuetto in one day on September 23, 1811, but he didn’t get around to completing the entire work until August 25, 1815, one day before the premiere performance.

The Quintet is partially chamber music, partially virtuoso concerto and partially operatic fantasy. Some would argue that because of the clearly dominant role of the clarinet, it is not great chamber music. The work clearly succeeds, however, and has stood the test of time as one of the most important works in the repertoire.

In the first movement, we hear a cute little introduction in the strings which gives way to a simple bouncy theme in the clarinet. But it is not long before this turns into a fast and fun romp for the clarinet. The second movement shows Weber’s operatic side with a beautifully woven fantasy that foreshadows the Weber of Der Freischütz. Weber mixes humour with a sentimental trio section in the Menuetto which plays the clarinet off against the string quartet. The final Rondo is one of the great pieces of virtuoso writing for clarinet of all time. It also features an extended passage for string quartet alone that puts the string players to the test. Just when you think there is nothing more that the clarinet can do, Weber gives us that last page. His brilliant virtuoso writing here has really never been surpassed.

Aaron Copland (1900-1990)
Concerto (1948)

Morton Gould (1913-1996)
Derivations (1955)

Artie Shaw (1910- )
Concerto (1940)

Everyone knows that Benny Goodman (1909-1986) popularized the clarinet as the “King of Swing“ in the 1930s and 40s, but few people know that he was probably the most influential individual in the creation of new classical music for the clarinet during the 20th century. Benny had aspirations beyond jazz and considered himself a serious classical player as well. Because of his position and wealth he had the ability and the desire to commission many new classical works for the clarinet. Darius Milhaud, Paul Hindemith, Bela Bartok, Aaron Copland, Morton Gould and others were all commissioned by and wrote major works for Benny.

One of the misconceptions about the works written for Goodman, is that because Benny was famous as a jazz player therefore the works must be “jazzy.” In the 1920s, many composers, including Copland, were incorporating jazz elements into classical works as this was all the rage. By 1927, however, Copland abandoned the use of jazz elements in his works. When he completed the Concerto in 1948, it was two decades later and while he certainly took some of Benny’s style (and limitations) into consideration in writing the work, it is most definitely not a “jazz” concerto for clarinet as some misguided modern interpretations have led people to believe. No more so than the Hindemith Concerto, the Milhaud Concerto, or the Bartok Contrasts for that matter.

In fact, Copland started the Concerto while in Rio de Janeiro in 1947, and he said himself that some of the major themes in the second part were taken from Brazilian folk music. This was also during his period of great interest in Latin-American music. Luckily, we have a recording of Benny playing the work under Copland’s direction, and we can hear from this recording that Benny and Copland follow the published score very accurately (with a few small mistakes), both in terms of style and tempo, and there are really only a couple of jazz elements incorporated throughout the entire score.

The piece is in three movements or sections played without pause: a slow opening for clarinet, strings and harp, an extended cadenza and a fast rhythmical section that includes that piano. The opening section is a slow, languorous “pas de deux,” as Copland noted, between the clarinet and the violins, with the harp and lower strings creating a mellow pulse. This “pas de deux” idea was later capitalized on by Jerome Robbins who used the piece for a ballet The Pied Piper which premiered in 1951 and continued to receive rave reviews. Appropriately, The Pied Piper opens with a romantic pas de deux.

The extended cadenza is perhaps most related to Goodman’s jazz roots and it includes figurations similar in shape to riffs that one might here at a Goodman jazz outing. But even here, the writing is more angular and dynamic than jazz of the day. And listening to Goodman play it, the piece comes across as much more Copland than Goodman (as it should be).

The closing includes the spiky rhythmical writing for which Copland is known coupled with Brazilian elements and a splash of humour. Perhaps as a direct nod to Benny, Copland closes the work with a Gershwin-style gliss from the low register up to high C.

It appears that while Goodman held Copland in high regard, Copland was not that fond of Goodman. In particular, they clearly disagreed over several elements in the original score, with Goodman insisting that they were too difficult to play and Copland making changes to accommodate him. The published score includes all these changes, some of which, in my opinion, are musically beneficial to the score. Several of the changes, however, were clearly concessions to Goodman’s technical challenges. I play the piece with elements from the original where it makes most musical sense.

Unlike the Copland Concerto, Morton Gould’s Derivations was clearly written with Goodman’s jazz style in mind throughout. Their collaborations had started with radio concerts in the 1930s and extended into the 1960s when Gould conducted for Goodman’s Chicago Symphony performances and recording of the Nielsen Concerto. Gould wrote the piece specifically for Goodman’s band. One of several works for clarinet and big band that appeared during this post-war heyday, Derivations was also transformed into a ballet Clarinade by George Balanchine in 1964 and later by Eliot Field into a different ballet called Jive.

The piece is in four movements or sections. Warm Up is an easy-going conversation for the clarinet with different groups of the band. Contrapuntal Blues is just what it sounds like: a slow fugue on a blues theme. Gould describes the third, Rag, as “a stylization of a Twenties period idea, a nostalgic, rhythmically asymmetric evocation of ragtime.” The final movement, Ride Out, is a flat-out, driving movement that sounds like a wild up-tempo improvisation for the whole band with the clarinet taking the lead.

The “other” big band leader of the day was Artie Shaw. He is considered one of the most creative improvisers of all time, but he also felt compelled to do something to get his band taken more seriously than as a mere dance band. Like Woody Herman and Goodman, he also commissioned several American composers to write short concert works for him, but the most famous work to have come out of this effort is the Concerto that he wrote himself. Although it does not conform to any classical concerto form and has been scoffed at by eminent jazz scholars such as Gunther Schuller who referred to it as “undistinguished” and “a flimsy stylistic hodge-podge,” the work has withstood the test of time and of audiences who universally adore it.

Written for a 1940 Fred Astaire movie called Second Chorus, the piece exists in several incarnations. When first recorded, Shaw completely improvised his part and provided the band with a lead sheet. He included two short sections for the band “so that it wouldn’t be one long unbroken clarinet solo.” The only published version that exists today includes a string section and is played by full orchestra. I obtained the big band parts from Dick Johnson who is the current leader of the Artie Shaw Band, which maintains a busy performance schedule to this day. Dick was gracious enough to loan us his actual manuscript parts direct from the Artie Shaw Band library for this performance.

One of the memorable and distinguishing features of this piece is the trademark Artie Shaw glissandi (slides from one note to another). But get ready, the piece ends up in the stratosphere with a gliss to a double-high C!

by Jonathan Cohler