Sticky Notes: The Classical Music Podcast

Thank you to Jerry for sponsoring today's episode on Patreon!
Goethe's Faust is considered to be the greatest work of German literature. This sprawling, 2-part play occupied Goethe's life for nearly 60 years, from its original version, begun in 1772, all the way to Goethe's final revisions before his death. It inspired just about every Romantic era composer who came after it, including Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, Berlioz, Gounod, Mahler, and our subject for the show today, Franz Liszt.
Liszt, who was in many ways the world's first pop star, was initially skeptical of Faust, saying that he couldn't relate to the eponymous main character of the play. He wrote: "Faust's personality scatters and dissipates itself; he takes no action, lets himself be driven, hesitates, experiments, loses his way, considers, bargains, and is interested in his own little happiness."
But slowly, Liszt began to be taken in by this remarkable play and decided to try his hand at a reflection on it, writing a massive, 3-movement, 75-minute-long symphony that never attempts to tell the story of Faust, but instead reflects on the psychological nature of the 3 central characters: Faust, Gretchen, and Mephistopheles (the Devil). A lot of English-speaking listeners will know this as the story of a man who sold his soul to the devil, but for Goethe it was much more than that, and it was for Liszt as well.
I've never talked about Liszt on the show, because frankly I've never been in love with his music. But this is one of the great things that these Patreon-sponsored episodes can do — help me discover pieces that I've never come across before. So today, we're going to talk about Liszt, Faust, and then take a stab at some of the greatest moments in this symphony. We'll talk about thematic transformation, a technique Liszt essentially invented and which is a vital part of understanding this piece.

This is a free preview of my new series of mini-episodes over on Patreon all about Schubert's Die Schöne Mullerin, one of the great masterpieces of the 19th century. Each week we'll explore one song from the cycle, in a series of 21 episodes! Come join us over on Patreon.com/stickynotespodcast and thanks for listening!

This is a continuation of my new series where I learn about a new piece from a great friend/musician. This week I'm thrilled to welcome Case Scaglione, the Music Director of the Orchestre National D'Ile de France, for a discussion of the Prelude and Liebestod from Wagner's Tristan and Isolde. This is one of the most beloved pieces in the entire repertoire, and my longtime skepticism of Wagner has always kept me away. But Case has such a beautiful way of talking about Wagner that I might very well be convinced to give it another shot! This is a really fun and also philosophical episode - I hope you enjoy it!
https://open.spotify.com/track/3HcRU6WhAZ6ZON9tFhanJv?si=4cf47cfde06a4434
https://open.spotify.com/track/7AtzmeOGG4PdXcfoVklSo1?si=69034a5a52704929

The story of Lili Boulanger's life is one of the most fascinating and tragic in all of musical history. A remarkably precocious talent, Boulanger learned to read sheet music before the alphabet, played the violin, piano, cello, and harp, and composed regularly from a young age. Despite her talent and commitment, Boulanger suffered from chronic illness her entire life, which severely dampened her budding career and prevented her from reaching her potential. She died at the age of just 24, likely from Crohn's disease, and left behind several spectacular pieces that unfortunately were soon relatively forgotten. Boulanger's sister, Nadia, became one of the preeminent composition teachers of the 20th century, working with luminaries such as Aaron Copland, Elliott Carter, David Diamond, Philip Glass, Astor Piazzolla, and many more. But throughout the 20th century there was very little interest in Lili Boulanger's musical output. That has changed somewhat with a renewed focus on bringing the works of female composers to the stage, and this has led to an explosion of performances of a few works, specifically Boulanger's brilliant short orchestral pieces D'un Matin de Printemps and D'un Soir Triste. But there is still a dearth of performances of some of Boulanger's great choral pieces, and in particular of Psalm 130, a piece that I find to be absolutely stunning but which is almost never performed. The piece, written in memory of Lili and Nadia's father Ernest, is a lament that shows off the potential of the 22-year-old composer, writing a piece far beyond her years in its emotional maturity and technical construction. In many ways, Lili Boulanger should be thought of in the pantheon of the great musical prodigies in Western classical music. Unfortunately she should also be thought of in the pantheon of the great composers who died tragically young. Today on the show, we're going to do a brief overview of Lili Boulanger's life to orient you into her style, and then we'll go through this gorgeous piece, talking about Boulanger's influences and her creative use of those influences, and discussing whether the piece was autobiographical or not. I think you will really discover something very special with this piece, so come join us!

In a letter to Tchaikovsky's nephew Vladimir Davydov, Tchaikovsky wrote: "I'm very pleased with its content, but dissatisfied, or rather not completely satisfied, with the instrumentation. For some reason it's not coming out as I intended. It would be typical and unsurprising if this symphony were torn to pieces or little appreciated, as that wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened. But I absolutely consider it to be the best, and in particular the most sincere, of all my creations. I love it as I have never loved any of my other musical offspring."
I'm returning to that word sincere this week for Part 2, because it's the through line that makes Tchaikovsky's music so immediately arresting. You always know exactly where you stand with Tchaikovsky, since he always seems to be speaking so honestly in his music. Well, almost always.
The last two movements of Tchaikovsky's 6th Symphony are among the most fascinating in the entire Western classical repertoire, and the reason for their fascination (beyond simply being wonderful movements) is the order in which Tchaikovsky places them. In a typical symphony, the third movement would be either a fast scherzo or a slow movement, depending on what the second movement had been. Since the second movement of this symphony was a waltz, audiences would have expected a slow third movement followed by a fast finale to send them home with some energy. But that is not what Tchaikovsky does. Instead, we hear a thrilling, exhilarating scherzo followed by a devastating slow movement, a choice that completely upended the form of the symphony as a genre, and was revolutionary for its time.
Why did Tchaikovsky do this? And why did this decision, in part, fuel massive controversy surrounding his death, just nine days after the symphony's premiere? We're going to explore all of that today, including the many theories about Tchaikovsky's death, before examining the 3rd and especially the 4th movements of this masterpiece in detail, unpacking the nuances of these profoundly contrasting movements.