Chelsea's Romantic Listening Journal

Suite Española Op. 47, Nos. 1 and 2
Isaac Albéniz (1860-1909)

The nationalistic music of the Romantic period cannot be discussed without the mention of Isaac Albéniz, a composer born in Spain in 1860. His works are saturated with the sounds of Spanish folk tunes, instruments, and dances. The Suite Española is no exception, with eight movements depicting various regions of Spain. Albéniz imitates guitars and castanets through the use of arpeggiated chords. The first movement, Granada, consists of light guitar-like arpeggiated chords in the right hand with a melodic tenor line in the left hand. A contrasting minor section in the middle showcases a more dramatic melody accented with trills and other ornamentation before returning to the first theme again. The movement ends quietly and simply. In the second movement, Cataluna, Albéniz again utilizes arpeggiation to create a guitar sound, but this time in the left hand. The movement opens with a dramatic melodic statement followed by a lilting melody with chordal accompaniment. This movement is much more involved than the Granada, with virtuosic passages and sharp dynamic contrasts. The Cataluna movement mirrors many of the traditional elements of the Sardana dance, which is a typical dance from the Catalonian region in Spain. This dance also begins with a free, solo instrumental introduction leading into the dance, which is either in 2/4 or 6/8. In my opinion, Albéniz did a fantastic job of creating a vivid aural representation of this dance.

After listening to both movements on piano, I was curious to hear some of the many guitar arrangements I saw available. I found that I much prefer the guitar recordings, simply because the style of composition is so much more natural on guitar. The arpeggiated chords begin to sound tedious and clunky on the piano after a few minutes of listening, but seem very appropriate when heard on the Spanish guitar. I also found the melodic contrast to be more appealing on the guitar as well.

While Albéniz was a crucial part of the Spanish music composed during his lifetime, I understand why these pieces aren't included in the canon. They simply aren't substantial enough to stand up against the huge output of not only piano music, but other major works being written during this period. In other European countries, composers like Wagner and Verdi were creating enormous nationalistic operas that, at the time, would clearly overshadow smaller pieces such as this suite. Even just within Spain itself, Albéniz was composing alongside Enrique Granados, another important composer and pianist who wrote within the same genre of Spanish nationalistic compositions. Albéniz was also composing at the same time as many of the piano greats across Europe were creating a huge outpour of repertoire for this instrument, which was becoming more and more popular very rapidly. Although Albéniz was quite popular in his time, his small-scale works such as Suite Española just cannot hold their own in the world of piano repertoire. While it provides an intriguing view into the culture of Spain, it does not have the widespread, international appeal of music composed by Chopin or Liszt, for example. It is a different story for guitar repertoire, however, as many classical guitarists practice and perform this suite regularly. Even so, Suite Española remains as a lesser known work of the Romantic period.

Clark, Walter Aaron. Isaac Albéniz: Portrait of a Romantic. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999.

Classical Listening Journal

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 3, No. 5
Maddalena Laura Lombardini Sirmen (1745-1818)

Maddalena Laura Sirmen was one of the most influential and publicly acknowledged female composers and violinists of the eighteenth century. Born in Venice, she began her musical training at a young age. Besides composing, she led an active performance career, performing in many of the major cities across Europe alongside her husband, Lodovico Sirmen. Her compositions include trios for two violins and bass, string quartets, concerti adapted for the harpsichord, violin duets, and violin concerti. Out of the six violin concerti in Sirmen's third opus, I will be discussing the fifth.

The Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 3, No. 5, is written in the key of B-flat major, and its fast-slow-fast organization of movements is typical of the eighteenth century concerto. The role of the violin in this piece is quite virtuosic, with many technical demands on the solo violinist. As a student of one of the most famous violinists and composers of the day, Guiseppe Tartini, Sirmen shows much of Tartini's compositional styles in her violin music. The first movement of this work is marked Maestoso, and is in concerto-sonata allegro form. Its lively use of dotted rhythms, large leaps, and complex ornamentation make for an engaging opening of the concerto. Even with the Maestoso feeling in this movement, the energy moves forward with a faster tempo. The orchestra has a fuller sound while still sounding light enough to cater to the violin's volume. A short cadenza during the final part of the movement brings the first movement to a triumphant close. The second movement, accompanied only by first and second violins, is an example of the balanced design often found in Classical period music. By contrasting the first and third movements' thicker textures with the second movement's thinner orchestration, a sense of proportion and balance is achieved. This contrast is typical of the Venetian style of the time. Appoggiaturas and suspensions abound within this movement, create a sighing sense of longing. The dynamics stay fairly static, keeping a similar mood throughout. While the melody is lovely and lyrical, I did not feel particularly drawn to it. The third movement is a rondo, which is another standard characteristic of Classical concerti. As in the first movement, dotted rhythms provide energy through the continuous motion of the rondo. The main motive gets rather repetitive after a few minutes, but is interrupted by a capricious solo violin phrase in the middle of the movement. After returning back to the original theme, it continues towards the end of the piece, finishing with a few subtle closing chords.

When I first listened to this piece, I almost thought it sounded similar to some of Haydn's music. Each time I listened again, though, I heard different motives and themes that sounded familiar yet fresh to me. Part of the reason for this is because, like any work from the Classical period, harmonies are predictable, melodies are somewhat simple, and cadences are absolutely blatant. Even within these classical “restrictions”, however, Sirmen managed to create a vibrant piece of music that comes alive with the energy of the solo violin. Why, then, isn't this piece included in the canon? Considering she composed works with widespread appeal and also performed frequently for the public, one would think that Sirmen would be considered among other standard composers of the Classical period. Although her works were popular with the audience of the time, she really didn't compose a particularly large amount of music; much of what she did write is for the violin, which restricts even further the appeal to a general audience today. Another possible reason for being excluded from the canon could be her gender. Female composers were not widely accepted during this period, and frankly, I find it astounding that she led an active performing career during her lifetime. The fact that she both composed and performed successfully for a receptive, supportive audience is quite astonishing. With all of these things considered, I still find it hard to believe that pieces such as this violin concerto aren't more popular repertoire choices among students today. I acknowledge that the music isn't totally captivating, but there is a significance to be found within, both musically and technically.

Arnold, Elsie, and Baldauf-Berdes, Jane. Maddalena Lombardini Sirmen. Maryland: The Scarecrow Press, Inc., 2002.

Pendle, Karin, ed. Women & Music. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1991.