ANTON WEBERN (1883-1945)
Im Sommerwind (In Summer Wind) , Idyll for Large Orchestra (1904)
Put aside what you may think is Anton Webern’s music. Im Sommerwind was composed before he entered the orbit of Arnold Schoenberg’s Second Viennese School; it preceded his transition to tone-rows and serialism. It will instead put in mind of Schoenberg’s Transfigured Night or Pelléas and Mélisande . Im Sommerwind was inspired by Bruno Willie’s (1860-1928) poem of the same name, and evokes the joy and peace of a summer day in the country. Program annotator Jonathan Kramer details the tragic story of the composition’s rediscovery. At the end of World War II, Webern buried some of his personal effects in his garden, ahead of Russian troops who were overrunning Vienna, and fled to Mittersill in the Austrian mountains. He was mistakenly shot there by an occupying American sentry who felt threatened by Webern. Meanwhile in Vienna, Russian soldiers senselessly destroyed whatever they found in Webern’s abandoned home. Hermine von Webern, widow of Webern’s son, salvaged what she could and stored it in Webern’s widow’s attic. In 1961, while Hans Moldenhauer was doing research for his Webern biography, he visited Hermine, who led him to countless unknown manuscripts—among them Im Sommerwind. It was premiered the following year by Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra at the International Webern Festival in Seattle. While Richard Strauss’s influence is palpable in the tone poem, there are hints of Webern’s future miniaturist approach to music: motifs are brief—some just one or two notes; and though the work is scored for large orchestra, Webern employs small groups and even solo instruments in his tone painting. (An amazing fact about Webern’s prolific output is that all of his works total only about three hours.) Listen for the blowing of the summer wind—though never fiercely—and the soft ending on the same chord that was heard at the beginning.

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791)
Piano Concerto No. 23, K. 488 (1786)
Mozart had come to Vienna in 1781 and had conquered the city as its reigning musical monarch. But now, five years later, his popularity as an instrumental composer was beginning to wane (though he was still in demand as a composer of operas). Between 1782 and 1786 he wrote an incredible 14 piano concertos—more than half of his output of 27 masterpieces. The Piano Concerto No. 23 is the product of a creative period in which Mozart also composed the Nos. 22 and 24, while at the same time working on the opera The Marriage of Figaro. These keyboard works were intended for his own performance, and he likely played the Nos. 22, 23, and 24 at Lenten concerts in 1786. K. 488 shows Mozart’s return to a popular, audience-pleasing style. He selected the key of A Major, usually associated with a gentle, serene beauty. But it also broke new ground by substituting the mellow timbre of the clarinet for the edgier sound of oboes, and eliminated trumpets and timpani. Cadenzas were usually an opportunity for the pianist to show off improvisational skills, but Mozart wrote out the cadenza for the first movement, contrary to his normal practice. This may suggest that the concerto was intended for a student. After a delicate and graceful first movement, the softer, darker sonority of the clarinet conveys a restrained ardor—perhaps even melancholy—in the haunting, transcendent adagio. The exhilarating final movement exudes light and joy, and what was intimate has become extroverted music, guaranteeing that your disposition will be sunny and full of good cheer.

ANTON WEBERN (1883-1945)
Symphony, Op. 21 (1928)
Anton Webern was the only one of the “Big Three” of the Second Viennese School to compose a symphony. Perhaps they were intimidated by their symphonic ancestors of the first Viennese School, consisting of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. Beginning in the 1920s Webern delved fully into serialism; new approaches allowed him to employ extended forms—both in the use of tone-rows, and in length of works. Most of Webern’s works are extremely brief, but at about 10 minutes long and cast in two movements, this Symphony is a relative “giant” among his output. Reviewing a recording of the Op. 21 conducted by Robert Craft, The New York Times speaks of the Symphony’s contrast of expanded and compressed time: “the first movement of the Symphony glides in on a steady stream of quarter notes…spacious, resonating calm”; while the second “blazes by as if on fast forward… each variation in this movement explodes, then rewinds in a matter of seconds, as if the listener were nervously turning a radio dial.” Webern’s preoccupation with symmetry emerges here, as he works the tone-row in more complex ways, creating new combinations of notes by serial techniques like imitation, inversion, and retrograde-inversion. In an appreciation after Webern’s death, Erwin Stein (a friend of the members of the Second Viennese School, and the man whom Schoenberg asked to write the first article on the 12-tone technique) identifies Webern’s characteristic traits: subtle shades and soft sounds; absence of strong beats that give an impression of hovering, rather than rhythmical progress; wide intervals; transparent sound; and extreme ranges that increase the intensity of his expressions. As one critic eloquently stated: “underneath the spare, seemingly fragile texture is a language of rich and elegant gesture. …A sparse and concentrated lyricism … makes this music rewarding for the listener who is willing to take the time to hear it.”

ROBERT SCHUMANN (1810-1856)
Symphony No. 2 (1846)
Schumann’s Second Symphony is linked to a time of recovery after he suffered a nervous breakdown in 1844. Frequently tormented by bouts of depression, exhaustion, the physical distress of painful tinnitus, even attempted suicide, his creativity had suffered. The following year, he and his wife Clara decided to leave Leipzig’s hustle and bustle and move to quieter Dresden. Though long in coming, this symphony was the first large-scale piece to follow his breakdown, and its creation had a salubrious effect on him, as he confided, “I wrote the symphony … when I was still half sick; it seems to me that one must hear this in it. Not until [writing] the last movement did I begin to feel myself again; actually, after finishing the entire work my health did improve. Still…it reminds me of a dark time.” In 1846 his friend and champion Felix Mendelssohn premiered the symphony in Leipzig with the legendary Gewandhaus Orchestra. One of its most noticeable features is its thematic unity; for example, all movements are in the key of C. And there is a slow brass fanfare that makes its first appearance at the heroic opening of the work and recurs in the three other movements. Schumann lives up to his reputation as a musical maverick in conservative Dresden when he breaks with tradition and places an energetic Scherzo, instead of the expected slow movement, in second place. In addition to a reappearance of the brass fanfare, you’ll hear a tribute to Bach, with a motif created from the notes B-A-C-H (the latter being German notation for B natural). In a gorgeous, utterly Romantic third movement—Adagio espressivo— the strings sing of great yearning. Another return of the brass fanfare brings this symphony to its triumphant finale.

In September 2009 Alan Gilbert began his tenure as Music Director of the New York Philharmonic, the first native New Yorker to hold the post.

For his inaugural season he introduced a number of new initiatives: the positions of The Marie-Josée Kravis Composer-in-Residence, held by Magnus Lindberg, and Artist-in-Residence, first held by Thomas Hampson; an annual three-week festival; and CONTACT!, the New York Philharmonic's new-music series. In the 2009–10 season he led the Orchestra on a major tour of Asia in October 2009, with debuts in Hanoi and Abu Dhabi. He also took the Philharmonic to nine cities on the EUROPE / WINTER 2010 tour in January–February 2010, and is conducting world, U.S., and New York premieres. Also in the 2009–10 season, Mr. Gilbert became the first person to hold the William Schuman Chair in Musical Studies at The Juilliard School, a position that includes coaching, conducting, and hosting performance master classes.

Highlights of Mr. Gilbert's 2008–09 season with the New York Philharmonic included the Bernstein anniversary concert at Carnegie Hall and a performance with the Juilliard Orchestra, presented by the Philharmonic. In May 2009 he conducted the World Premiere of Peter Lieberson's The World in Flower, a New York Philharmonic Commission, and in July 2009 he led the Philharmonic's Concerts in the Parks and Free Indoor Concerts, Presented by Didi and Oscar Schafer, and performances at the Bravo! Vail Valley Music Festival in Colorado.

In June 2008 Mr. Gilbert was named conductor laureate of the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra, following his final concert as its chief conductor and artistic advisor. He has been principal guest conductor of Hamburg's NDR Symphony Orchestra since 2004, and he has conducted other leading orchestras in the U.S. and abroad, including the Boston, Chicago, and San Francisco symphony orchestras; the Cleveland and Philadelphia Orchestras; and the Berlin Philharmonic, Munich's Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Amsterdam's Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, and Orchestre National de Lyon. In 2003 he was named the first music director of the Santa Fe Opera.

Alan Gilbert studied at Harvard University, The Curtis Institute of Music, and The Juilliard School. From 1995 to 1997 he was the assistant conductor of The Cleveland Orchestra. In November 2008 he made his acclaimed Metropolitan Opera debut conducting John Adams's Doctor Atomic. His recording of Prokofiev's Scythian Suite with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra was nominated for a 2008 Grammy Award, and his recording of Mahler's Symphony No. 9 received top honors from the Chicago Tribune and Gramophone magazine. On May 15, 2010, The Curtis Institute of Music awarded Mr. Gilbert an Honorary Doctor of Music degree.

Learn More about Alan Gilbert

LEIF OVE ANDSNES
Piano, born in 1970 on Karmøy Island, Norway
Leif Ove Andsnes’s recording of Mozart Piano Concertos Nos. 17 and 20 with the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra, which he conducted from the keyboard, received a Grammy nomination for Best Instrumental Soloist Performance with Orchestra. It is his 7th. Making music was a part of everyday life in his family, because his parents both were music teachers. Having lived on an island off the coast of Norway, he “didn’t grow up with a lot of musicians around me, so it felt like a lonely thing to play the piano. There was a period when I was 12 or 13 that I didn’t want to practice. I just wanted to play football with my friends, like other kids. But I soon felt that the piano was a world unto itself. … I never regretted choosing the piano.” When he was 15 he moved to mainland Norway to study at the Bergen Conservatory. Fast forward to 2006: he premiered the piano concerto composed for him by Marc-André Dalbavie to great acclaim and has now recorded it, paired with Witold Lutosławski’s Piano Concerto. In addition to his concertizing, Leif Ove Andsnes is co-artistic director of the annual Risør Chamber Music Festival (among the top 10 festivals in the world, says The New York Times), held in a small fishing village in southeast Norway. In his free time, he relaxes at his mountain home in Norway’s western Hardanger area with a view of a glacier. “When I get up there, the rhythm of my pulse goes down, and I leave all the stress and pressure behind. It is a wonderful place to study and recharge my batteries.” And if Leif Ove Andsnes not only sounds good, but looks good too, it could be because of his stylish concert attire, provided by designer Issey Miyake.

“Andsnes would be a dazzling pianist even if forced to play Chopsticks.” (Times (London))

“Andsnes has a delicate touch and a wonderful sensibility; his virtuosity is always linked to his superb interpretive abilities.” (Saint Louis Post-Dispatch)

“Mr. Andsnes gave a typically lovely performance, playing with rippling passagework and, when called for, rhythmic bite, shaping lines sensitively and conveying ennobled sadness.” (The New York Times)