Sunday, February 19, 2012
van Bree, String Quartet No. 1 in a minor, String Quartet No. 2 in E-flat major
Way back in the depths of time (that is, when I was in graduate school), I heard a very interesting piece on the radio. (It’s funny how clear some memories are: I remember exactly where I was at the time, standing at the bus stop near my apartment). The piece was the Allegro for Four String Quartets by the Dutch romantic violinist and composer, Johannes Bernardus van Bree (1801-1857). A nice sonata-form movement, with a catchy tune as the second theme, and I thought it would be great fun to play it someday. But getting fifteen other willing participants, and a large enough location, seemed daunting.
I was at a chamber music weekend last spring, and finally got a chance to play the van Bree. It was a lot of fun, and went over reasonably well: people remarked that it was much more like a piece of chamber music than the Brandenburgs that are often played in such situations. People asked me about the composer, and I had to admit I knew very little about him.
Research after I got home showed that van Bree published three string quartets, and that the third was available from Edition Silvertrust. I ordered it, both out of curiosity and as a present for one of the violinists I played quartets with, a visiting scientist from the Netherlands. The third string quartet by van Bree showed both the positive and negative qualities I’d perceived in the Allegro for Four String Quartets: a real gift for melody, but a lack of imagination in form: everything was extremely regular and rather predictable. Still, a fun piece to play.
van Bree’s second string quartet was only available as a scan of the original edition on IMSLP, and, as I’ve remarked before, music printed before the second half of the nineteenth century can be pretty hard to read. I’d been playing around with Sibelius music layout software, and decided that it would be a fun project to make my own edition of this piece. And it was fun, working without a score, putting in the parts one at a time, seeing how they overlapped and interacted, and hearing the work come to life through my speakers. (Sibelius version 7 has impressively good playback capabilities, although with some annoying bugs: staccato notes in the strings are significantly louder than legato).
But, overall, my impression of van Bree’s second string quartet is that it’s even more mediocre than his third. I wrote a blog post about it, The Value of Mediocrity. But hidden in the formal dullness (really, do you *always* have to have entries in the order cello-viola-second violin-first violin?) are again some truly charming melodies.
I continued this project one step further. The only place I was able to track down a copy of the van Bree first string quartet was the Nederlands Muziek Instituut (the Dutch National Music Library), which very kindly sent me a photocopy of the parts. And I started the process of making my own edition.
The van Bree third string quartet has been recorded, although the recording is out of print. The second, as far as I can tell, has had only one recent live performance by the Gaudeamus Quartet, which I discovered on the website of a Dutch radio station. But I’m convinced that the first quartet hasn’t been played this century, or maybe even in the last. You’d pretty much have to do what I did, make your own edition, because as published, the parts are filled with errors. Not just inconsistencies of dynamics and bowing, but just plain wrong notes: for example, there’s an entire passage in the first violin part that seems to be off by a half step.
After all that work, my conclusion is that the first quartet is weaker than the second. It has the disadvantage, for me, of being in the “quatuor brillant” style, which is basically a concerto for the first violin with the other three instruments accompanying. And it’s again formally very dull. But the jaunty tune that starts the last movement has become a real favorite of mine. I’m probably the only person in the world who goes around singing a theme from van Bree’s first string quartet!
Wednesday evening I finally got a chance to play these two quartets from my own edition, taking advantage of my Dutch violinist friend’s return, and two other willing participants. It was fun, although I’m sure I enjoyed it more than the others did.
I don’t know what it is, but I like playing music by obscure composers. Part of it is that I love playing pieces I’ve never played before, and particularly, pieces I’ve never heard before. But also, as I wrote in The Value of Mediocrity, I think it’s good to play mediocre music from time to time, so that one can appreciate great music all the more. And even in mediocre music there are moments of brilliance, moments that make you happy to have experienced them.
But for some reason, it's really hard to find amateur chamber musicians who are willing to try pieces by obscure composers. So if you're reading this because a Google search for van Bree (or Kalliwoda, or Herzogenberg, or Dohnanyi, or Arriaga, or Richter, or Hoffstetter, etc.) has sent you here, and you want to try playing some of these pieces, send me email, and we'll see what we can arrange!
I’m not sure what to do next with the van Bree string quartets. I’m planning on cleaning up my editions and uploading them to IMSLP. But after all this work, I’d really like to have a recording of these quartets, and as I’ve said, none are available. I am tempted to commission a professional or semi-pro string quartet to make a recording for me, but I don’t know how to proceed with that. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Schubert, String Trio No. 1 in B flat, D471
Sunday evening I had a very special chamber music treat. I've mentioned on this blog that I go most Sunday nights to my friend's house for dinner with him and his family, board games with his kids, and then violin sonatas (we're working our way through the Mozart sonatas for a second time). But my friend is also a cellist, and his nearly ten-year-old son is a rapidly advancing violinist (almost done with Book Four of Suzuki, if I recall correctly). A couple of months ago, his parents thought to give him a gift of a chamber music session with me and his father, and asked me to pick the piece. I chose Schubert's single movement String Trio No. 1 in B flat, D471. I'd heard it at a Chameleon Arts Ensemble concert a few months previously, and thought that it was the right length and character for this purpose.
Sunday evening we had our first run through of the piece, and it was a wonderful musical experience. My young friend has all the makings of an excellent musician (I'd expect nothing less, knowing his father!) Confident, attentive, musical, a joy to play with! I hope to do so again often in the months and years ahead.
And I think the piece I chose was just right. It was a bit of a stretch for my young friend, both technically (going up to fifth position in one place), but also musically. The Suzuki books concentrate almost exclusively on folk songs and Baroque music, so Schubert's early Romantic harmonic vocabulary initially confused him greatly, particularly in the development section. But he practiced the piece a lot, and surmounted the technical difficulties, as well as implanting Schubert earworms into his entire family. (I have a friend who says the only way to get a Schubert melody out of your head is with another Schubert melody!)
Sunday evening we had our first run through of the piece, and it was a wonderful musical experience. My young friend has all the makings of an excellent musician (I'd expect nothing less, knowing his father!) Confident, attentive, musical, a joy to play with! I hope to do so again often in the months and years ahead.
And I think the piece I chose was just right. It was a bit of a stretch for my young friend, both technically (going up to fifth position in one place), but also musically. The Suzuki books concentrate almost exclusively on folk songs and Baroque music, so Schubert's early Romantic harmonic vocabulary initially confused him greatly, particularly in the development section. But he practiced the piece a lot, and surmounted the technical difficulties, as well as implanting Schubert earworms into his entire family. (I have a friend who says the only way to get a Schubert melody out of your head is with another Schubert melody!)
Dvorak, Quartet in E flat, Op. 51
On Sunday afternoon, we had the first meeting of a string quartet that we've put together to attend the Chiara Quartet's workshop on March 17th. We played through portions of a large number of quartets (Schubert "Death and the Maiden", Brahms 51/2, Shostakovich 2 and 3, and Bartok 1) before settling on the piece we tried out first, the Dvorak String Quartet in E-flat major, Op. 51. I say this way too often, but this is an absolutely beautiful work. We ended up playing through the entire quartet, but we're going to concentrate on the first movement for the workshop.
I have to admit, I'm really nervous about the workshop. I haven't had any coaching since I started playing the viola again two and a half years ago, and I hadn't had any before then since I was an undergraduate. I'm not quite sure what to expect, and I'm worried that I won't be able to modify my playing in the direction the coaches suggest. And while the Dvorak isn't as technically challenging for the viola as the other pieces we tried Sunday, the first measure gives me a puzzle that I'm not sure I have a good solution for.
Here's the measure:
(For those of you unfamiliar with it, that symbol on the far left is the alto (or viola) clef. Middle line is middle C: what could be more logical? I happen to think it's a very pretty clef. But I digress. :-)
One of the big decisions one has to make as a string player is which finger of the left hand to use to play each note (and also, which string to use). These usually come down to choosing a "position" for the left hand, which are numbered from first (hand farthest away from the body) on up, although within a position, you also have some flexibility as to the choice of finger. String players number their fingers from 1 (index) to 4 (little).
There are several factors that come into choice of position. You want to avoid changing positions too frequently; you want to avoid having to cross strings unnecessarily (although sometimes that's a special effect a composer is looking for). You might want to deemphasize the weaker fourth finger (trills with the fourth finger, for example, are difficult). And the tone colors of the strings are quite different: for example, playing in the higher positions on the C string on the viola creates, to my mind, not a particularly pleasant sound (although Mahler specifically calls for it in his Sixth Symphony).
All that said, there are basically two choices for this first measure of the Dvorak quartet. The obvious one is second position, so you start with the first finger on the C string for the low E flat, going to the fourth finger on the G string for the high E flat. No change of position, only one string crossing.
The problem with this solution is the final chord. Playing two notes at once is called a "double stop", and some double stops are easier than others. Hardest are fifths: since the viola is tuned in fifths, you need to use the same finger to stop both strings. In effect, this means that not only the position of the finger has to be exactly right, but its angle does, as well. Compounding this problem is the fact that fifths, being perfect intervals, are more sensitive to pitch errors than other intervals. All this means that I have trouble getting fifths consistently in tune, and being out of tune on the first measure of a piece doesn't start things off on the right foot. :-)
There's an alternate solution to the fingering problem: playing the passage in first position, ending with the fifth played on the "open strings" G and D (no fingers at all). There's one more string crossing, but that's not a huge issue here. Playing an open fifth can be a problem if the strings have gone out of tune, but at the beginning of a piece, just after tuning, that shouldn't be a concern.
The problem with this solution is that open strings have a very special sound, and one that tends not to be favored in modern string playing, particularly for soft, lyrical passages. I have gotten some sharp looks in the past from fellow players for using open strings where they really aren't appropriate.
So I can't make up my mind. I'll consult with the other members of our quartet, and with the coaches on March 17. Dvorak was a violist: I wish I could consult him.
And this matters a lot, because those final notes of that measure form one of the harmonic cornerstones for the entire quartet. Some chord progressions are more common than others, and the chord progression in this measure, from the tonic (I), E-flat major, to the mediant (iii), G minor, is very uncommon. (Probably because iii is a fence-straddling chord, sharing two notes with the tonic and two with the dominant). I haven't finished looking, but I think this progression ties the whole quartet together. I don't think it's a coincidence that the second movement is in G minor, and that the theme of the last movement starts in E-flat major but cadences in G minor.
And it's those two notes at the end of the first bar of the viola part that create the G minor chord (along with the B-flats in the second violin and cello). A huge responsibility!
Whew! I promise to avoid writing entire blog posts about single measures in the future. :-)
I have to admit, I'm really nervous about the workshop. I haven't had any coaching since I started playing the viola again two and a half years ago, and I hadn't had any before then since I was an undergraduate. I'm not quite sure what to expect, and I'm worried that I won't be able to modify my playing in the direction the coaches suggest. And while the Dvorak isn't as technically challenging for the viola as the other pieces we tried Sunday, the first measure gives me a puzzle that I'm not sure I have a good solution for.
Here's the measure:
One of the big decisions one has to make as a string player is which finger of the left hand to use to play each note (and also, which string to use). These usually come down to choosing a "position" for the left hand, which are numbered from first (hand farthest away from the body) on up, although within a position, you also have some flexibility as to the choice of finger. String players number their fingers from 1 (index) to 4 (little).
There are several factors that come into choice of position. You want to avoid changing positions too frequently; you want to avoid having to cross strings unnecessarily (although sometimes that's a special effect a composer is looking for). You might want to deemphasize the weaker fourth finger (trills with the fourth finger, for example, are difficult). And the tone colors of the strings are quite different: for example, playing in the higher positions on the C string on the viola creates, to my mind, not a particularly pleasant sound (although Mahler specifically calls for it in his Sixth Symphony).
All that said, there are basically two choices for this first measure of the Dvorak quartet. The obvious one is second position, so you start with the first finger on the C string for the low E flat, going to the fourth finger on the G string for the high E flat. No change of position, only one string crossing.
The problem with this solution is the final chord. Playing two notes at once is called a "double stop", and some double stops are easier than others. Hardest are fifths: since the viola is tuned in fifths, you need to use the same finger to stop both strings. In effect, this means that not only the position of the finger has to be exactly right, but its angle does, as well. Compounding this problem is the fact that fifths, being perfect intervals, are more sensitive to pitch errors than other intervals. All this means that I have trouble getting fifths consistently in tune, and being out of tune on the first measure of a piece doesn't start things off on the right foot. :-)
There's an alternate solution to the fingering problem: playing the passage in first position, ending with the fifth played on the "open strings" G and D (no fingers at all). There's one more string crossing, but that's not a huge issue here. Playing an open fifth can be a problem if the strings have gone out of tune, but at the beginning of a piece, just after tuning, that shouldn't be a concern.
The problem with this solution is that open strings have a very special sound, and one that tends not to be favored in modern string playing, particularly for soft, lyrical passages. I have gotten some sharp looks in the past from fellow players for using open strings where they really aren't appropriate.
So I can't make up my mind. I'll consult with the other members of our quartet, and with the coaches on March 17. Dvorak was a violist: I wish I could consult him.
And this matters a lot, because those final notes of that measure form one of the harmonic cornerstones for the entire quartet. Some chord progressions are more common than others, and the chord progression in this measure, from the tonic (I), E-flat major, to the mediant (iii), G minor, is very uncommon. (Probably because iii is a fence-straddling chord, sharing two notes with the tonic and two with the dominant). I haven't finished looking, but I think this progression ties the whole quartet together. I don't think it's a coincidence that the second movement is in G minor, and that the theme of the last movement starts in E-flat major but cadences in G minor.
And it's those two notes at the end of the first bar of the viola part that create the G minor chord (along with the B-flats in the second violin and cello). A huge responsibility!
Whew! I promise to avoid writing entire blog posts about single measures in the future. :-)
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Beethoven, Op. 18, No. 4, and Haydn, Op. 77, No. 2
I only played two quartets last night: we were all tired, and one of the violinists was on crutches, recovering from day surgery. But they were two wonderful quartets, and I think we sounded particularly good. Part of it was the skill of the players (helped out by the viola bow I'm trying out), but I think part of it is that my living room has really good acoustics for chamber music. We could really get a clarity of sound when needed!
In selecting the program for this evening, I had prepared a bit of a musicological term-paper topic. One of the violinists had expressed eagerness to play one of Beethoven's Opus 18 quartets (we played No. 4, in C minor), so I chose from among the few (!) remaining quartets in my Haydn project his last complete one, the Opus 77, No. 2, in F major. (I didn't realize, until I was preparing this blog post, that this quartet had the nickname "Wait Till The Clouds Roll By". I can find no explanation for this name: maybe one of you out there can help me?)
I don't know if this is true for everyone, but one tends to keep composers in memory in a kind of chronological order, like Haydn-Mozart-Beethoven. But that is an oversimplification, and the two pieces from tonight show why. Both were written in the period 1798-1800, while both composers were living in Vienna, and both were commissioned and dedicated to the same patron, Joseph Franz Maximilian Lobkowicz. So the term-paper topic is, "compare and contrast these two string quartets".
Both composers are at the top of their form, I think. Haydn could probably have gotten away with "phoning it in" to Lobkowicz, but there's no trace of that. He continues his lifelong exploration of the string quartet, particularly noticeable in the distant keys he reaches in the development section of the first movement, and the shift from F major to D-flat major between the minuet and trio. Beethoven seems to have delayed his attempt at string quartets, publishing a total of five string trios before the Op. 18, perhaps to make sure he was ready to tackle this already-venerated form. I think he was definitely ready. :-) This quartet is a thrill from beginning to end. It's particularly interesting that the traditional "slow" movement isn't slow at all, but a kind of mixture of sonata and scherzo.
In comparing these two works, you can't even fall back on the rule of thumb, "Haydn writes minuets, Beethoven writes scherzos". On the minuet-scherzo spectrum, the Beethoven 18/4 is definitely on the minuet side compared with the Haydn 77/2. ("Scherzo" means "joke" in Italian, and Haydn certainly plays a joke on the viola in this movement. I thought I'd have three chances to get my tricky rhythmic entrance correct, but as it turns out, I needed a fourth. :-)
I think the fundamental question is, can you tell the difference between a piece written by someone in his late sixties, as opposed to someone in his late twenties? There's something indescribable in the Haydn that makes it seem like "old music" to me, particularly the beautiful slow movement. And the Beethoven seems like "young music": in the last two movements he has the tempo increase near the end, which feels to me like a reflection of the impatience of youth. But I'm not sure if that's just not some sort of projection on my part. Listen to the pieces and let me know what you think!
P.S. For those of you keeping track at home, the Haydn Quartet Project stands at 59 played, only nine to go!
In selecting the program for this evening, I had prepared a bit of a musicological term-paper topic. One of the violinists had expressed eagerness to play one of Beethoven's Opus 18 quartets (we played No. 4, in C minor), so I chose from among the few (!) remaining quartets in my Haydn project his last complete one, the Opus 77, No. 2, in F major. (I didn't realize, until I was preparing this blog post, that this quartet had the nickname "Wait Till The Clouds Roll By". I can find no explanation for this name: maybe one of you out there can help me?)
I don't know if this is true for everyone, but one tends to keep composers in memory in a kind of chronological order, like Haydn-Mozart-Beethoven. But that is an oversimplification, and the two pieces from tonight show why. Both were written in the period 1798-1800, while both composers were living in Vienna, and both were commissioned and dedicated to the same patron, Joseph Franz Maximilian Lobkowicz. So the term-paper topic is, "compare and contrast these two string quartets".
Both composers are at the top of their form, I think. Haydn could probably have gotten away with "phoning it in" to Lobkowicz, but there's no trace of that. He continues his lifelong exploration of the string quartet, particularly noticeable in the distant keys he reaches in the development section of the first movement, and the shift from F major to D-flat major between the minuet and trio. Beethoven seems to have delayed his attempt at string quartets, publishing a total of five string trios before the Op. 18, perhaps to make sure he was ready to tackle this already-venerated form. I think he was definitely ready. :-) This quartet is a thrill from beginning to end. It's particularly interesting that the traditional "slow" movement isn't slow at all, but a kind of mixture of sonata and scherzo.
In comparing these two works, you can't even fall back on the rule of thumb, "Haydn writes minuets, Beethoven writes scherzos". On the minuet-scherzo spectrum, the Beethoven 18/4 is definitely on the minuet side compared with the Haydn 77/2. ("Scherzo" means "joke" in Italian, and Haydn certainly plays a joke on the viola in this movement. I thought I'd have three chances to get my tricky rhythmic entrance correct, but as it turns out, I needed a fourth. :-)
I think the fundamental question is, can you tell the difference between a piece written by someone in his late sixties, as opposed to someone in his late twenties? There's something indescribable in the Haydn that makes it seem like "old music" to me, particularly the beautiful slow movement. And the Beethoven seems like "young music": in the last two movements he has the tempo increase near the end, which feels to me like a reflection of the impatience of youth. But I'm not sure if that's just not some sort of projection on my part. Listen to the pieces and let me know what you think!
P.S. For those of you keeping track at home, the Haydn Quartet Project stands at 59 played, only nine to go!
Friday, February 10, 2012
Viola quintets: Vaughan Williams, Mozart, Mendelssohn
One of the great things about being a violist is that you can be the "special guest star" and join a string quartet to make an evening of quintets. There are different kinds of string quintets, distinguished by which instrument is added to the standard string quartet. So a "viola quintet" isn't, as you might think, a piece for five violas (although that would be really cool!) but one for two violins, two violas, and a cello.
So last night I was a guest star, crashing the party of a regular string quartet. Two of the people I'd never played with before, and one I'd played with only once. A great group of people: wonderful musicians, amazing sight readers, and just generally fun to be with!
We started out with a piece I'd never played, never heard, and never even heard of, Ralph Vaughan Williams' Phantasy Quintet, from 1912. This was a real sight-reading challenge, particular the scherzo in 7/4 time: counting that made my brain explode. Vaughan Williams has never been a favorite composer of mine, but I really liked this piece, and want to play it again. And I'll add his two string quartets to my list of music I want to play. (That's a very long list, you will not be surprised to learn. :-)
One really cool thing in the Vaughan Williams is that the slow movement, a Sarabande, has the cello tacet (silent for the entire movement). So it devolved upon me, the second viola, to provide the bass line. I love doing that, since I'm a wannabe cellist at heart.
Next up was perhaps the most famous viola quintet, Mozart's G minor quintet, K516. Many people are of the opinion that Mozart's quintets are better than his quartets. I'm not sure I agree with that, and if it's true, it's really just an accident of chronology. Four of the six quintets are late works, written after the famous "Haydn" or "Opus Ten" quartets, and around the same time as the three "Prussian" quartets, which, while wonderful, are unusually focused on the cello since the dedicatee was a cellist. In any case, I love the quintets, and perhaps this one most of all. If I'm in a bad mood, I only have to listen to the last movement, and the way the sobbing slow introduction turns into the sunniest of Allegros cheers me right up.
We finished with the Mendelssohn Op. 87 quintet in B flat major. This is a late work, one of many that were published after the composer's death at the age of 38. A wonderful piece: in places boisterous, in places very touching, with Mendelssohn's amazing string writing throughout. The first violinist remarked that the "passage work" (the hard parts) sounded more difficult than it was. Mendelssohn's string music just lies under the hand better than perhaps any other composer's; one of the reasons he's such a joy to play.
I hope to get invited back to join this quartet to play more of the viola quintet literature. That isn't as vast as the quartet literature (I blame Haydn, who never got around to writing a quintet), but there's plenty there worth playing!
So last night I was a guest star, crashing the party of a regular string quartet. Two of the people I'd never played with before, and one I'd played with only once. A great group of people: wonderful musicians, amazing sight readers, and just generally fun to be with!
We started out with a piece I'd never played, never heard, and never even heard of, Ralph Vaughan Williams' Phantasy Quintet, from 1912. This was a real sight-reading challenge, particular the scherzo in 7/4 time: counting that made my brain explode. Vaughan Williams has never been a favorite composer of mine, but I really liked this piece, and want to play it again. And I'll add his two string quartets to my list of music I want to play. (That's a very long list, you will not be surprised to learn. :-)
One really cool thing in the Vaughan Williams is that the slow movement, a Sarabande, has the cello tacet (silent for the entire movement). So it devolved upon me, the second viola, to provide the bass line. I love doing that, since I'm a wannabe cellist at heart.
Next up was perhaps the most famous viola quintet, Mozart's G minor quintet, K516. Many people are of the opinion that Mozart's quintets are better than his quartets. I'm not sure I agree with that, and if it's true, it's really just an accident of chronology. Four of the six quintets are late works, written after the famous "Haydn" or "Opus Ten" quartets, and around the same time as the three "Prussian" quartets, which, while wonderful, are unusually focused on the cello since the dedicatee was a cellist. In any case, I love the quintets, and perhaps this one most of all. If I'm in a bad mood, I only have to listen to the last movement, and the way the sobbing slow introduction turns into the sunniest of Allegros cheers me right up.
We finished with the Mendelssohn Op. 87 quintet in B flat major. This is a late work, one of many that were published after the composer's death at the age of 38. A wonderful piece: in places boisterous, in places very touching, with Mendelssohn's amazing string writing throughout. The first violinist remarked that the "passage work" (the hard parts) sounded more difficult than it was. Mendelssohn's string music just lies under the hand better than perhaps any other composer's; one of the reasons he's such a joy to play.
I hope to get invited back to join this quartet to play more of the viola quintet literature. That isn't as vast as the quartet literature (I blame Haydn, who never got around to writing a quintet), but there's plenty there worth playing!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Violin duets, de Bériot and Kalliwoda
Duets yesterday evening with my intermediate violinist friend. First up was another find from IMSLP, the "Douze petits Duos faciles" by Charles Auguste de Bériot. I wasn't too impressed with the first one; I remarked that we played it better than it deserved. The second was better, but the third one was a little tough for sight-reading. And later on in the collection, there's a scherzo in B minor with a trio in B major. I suppose de Bériot figured that beginners should suffer through five sharps like the rest of us. :-)
I really like IMSLP: it's a wonderful site to find obscure mid-nineteenth century to early twentieth century music. (Earlier than that, the style of music printing makes it hard for us moderns to read; after that, you run into copyright issues). There was an interesting article about a year ago in the New York Times about IMSLP. I have no qualms about using it for public domain music. If a publisher wants to go to the trouble to create new editions of public domain music, like Henle and the complete Haydn quartets, that's worth my money. But those publishers who just push out copies of nineteenth century engravings (sometimes messing them up with incorrect rehearsal letters or ruining the page turns) don't deserve my patronage.
We then continued with the Three Very Easy Duets by Kalliwoda (Kalivoda), Op. 178. These are the first three of a set of twelve, it seems (the Op. 178-181). Even easier than the ones we played at the beginning of the month, they're pretty good (definitely better than the de Bériot). One could wish for a little more creativity on Kalliwoda's part (really, does every sonata form development section have to start with a bar rest for the second violin, who then imitates what the first violin plays?), but I think they're worth playing. But then, I do have a soft spot for the music of obscure composers!
I really like IMSLP: it's a wonderful site to find obscure mid-nineteenth century to early twentieth century music. (Earlier than that, the style of music printing makes it hard for us moderns to read; after that, you run into copyright issues). There was an interesting article about a year ago in the New York Times about IMSLP. I have no qualms about using it for public domain music. If a publisher wants to go to the trouble to create new editions of public domain music, like Henle and the complete Haydn quartets, that's worth my money. But those publishers who just push out copies of nineteenth century engravings (sometimes messing them up with incorrect rehearsal letters or ruining the page turns) don't deserve my patronage.
We then continued with the Three Very Easy Duets by Kalliwoda (Kalivoda), Op. 178. These are the first three of a set of twelve, it seems (the Op. 178-181). Even easier than the ones we played at the beginning of the month, they're pretty good (definitely better than the de Bériot). One could wish for a little more creativity on Kalliwoda's part (really, does every sonata form development section have to start with a bar rest for the second violin, who then imitates what the first violin plays?), but I think they're worth playing. But then, I do have a soft spot for the music of obscure composers!
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