S2.E66. Less familiar Beethoven, Leonore No.1, 2 less familiar sextets, Donizetti and Dvorak - and Brahms 4 finale

I'm delighted that this episode of Perfect Pitch is once more generously supported by the Original Manuscript Society. Imagine that it's 1791 and we're in the very room where Mozart is composing his last great masterpiece, the Requiem Mass. Well, without the help of Doctor Who's TARDIS, that's not something we're going to be able to do. But we can bring the experience closer by being able to see the original manuscript with Mozart's own shottings and those of his student Franz Usma, who completed it. And that's where the Original Manuscript Society steps in, enabling people all over the world to see and view these amazing manuscripts. For more details, just go to their website, original manuscriptsociety.com. One of the biggest hurdles Beethoven had to overcome in completing his only opera Fidelio was the overture. It took him four attempts before he got it right, the first three being named Leonora, after the name of the heroine who comes to get her husband Floristan out of prison. When finally he was certified with the finished article, the opera was renamed Fidelia. The name Leonora adopted in her disguise. And of the four, that's the overture which is most often performed these days. It turns out that the overture which we now know to be number one was in fact Big Evan's third effort. And sadly, it suffers from being the least played and least popular. And that, I think, is a perfect reason for us to give it an airing now. This is one of those overtures which doesn't introduce any of the themes in the opera, so it's very much a standalone piece. In this case in Cleveland, with which he had a long association to produce wonderful sounds. There are times in his music when it feels like we're listening to a slow movement in one of the symphony. So we ought to have a sextet. And this one is a belter. Over a 30-year period at the beginning of the 19th century, Don Izzetti composed 75 operas. But he's only really known for about half a dozen of them. It's the one that goes figure, figure off, figure a figure, so I'm not gonna go there today. Especially when you are up against some major disaster. And disasters don't get much more major than the ones which occur in Lucia de la Montreal. It's the story of two feuding families and the love story between Lucia in one family and Edgardo in the other. Lucia's brother is far from happy about this, as he can see his inheritance being threatened. So he forges a letter to demonstrate that Edgardo has been unfaithful to Lucia while away in France. He then persuades her to marry somebody else. Edgardo arrives just a few minutes later and is obviously beside himself in the rage. It takes place after Edgardo makes a dramatic entrance. Everything then goes horribly wrong. Lucia goes mad, killing her husband, and then herself. And when Edgardo hears of it, he starts himself. So this is not a feel-good opera. But the drama is off the scale, and on its set he delivers music at a match. This is a stellar lineup with Luciano Pavarotti, Shirley Verrett, June Anderson, Piero Cappuccini, Giuseppe Sabatini, and Giovanni Furianetto. But after Boccherini composed nine sextets in the year 1776, that particular makeup went into a band for about another hundred years. Not on a stage as we see them today, but in a much more intimate setting, and in very close proximity to their audience. This gives them an immediacy which you will never experience fifteen rays back in their stalls. So if you get the chance to go to an evening where this is on the repertoire, I urge you to try it out. You will be amazed at how involved you feel. It really makes no difference. Imagine sitting just a few feet away from this. Here is the effervescent presto from DeVorjak Septet, played by the Devorjak Quartet with an extra viola and an extra cello. If you're one of those people who doesn't get or has decided that Brahms will never be for you, you can save yourself ten minutes now and join me again next time. Or if you've got nothing better to do, you could try and let me persuade you differently. Benjamin Britton was notoriously scathing about so many composers. But his dismissal of Brahms, which I think I've mentioned before, takes on beating. We're told that he claimed to play through the whole of Brahms at intervals to see whether he is really as bad as we thought, and ends up by discovering that he's actually much worse. A few composers, perhaps only Wagner, can continue to divide opinion today. But I've never had to be persuaded of his own originality. He wrote four symphonies, having toiled for many, many years before completing his first because he didn't think himself worthy to follow the foot episode. Each has its own character. But the fourth is surely the grandest of them all. I was alerted to this performance by a friend of mine recently, and it's another one of those examples when you think you've heard it all before, and what more is there to discover? This last movement comes from a live performance given by the NDR Elbert Philharmonie, conducted by Christophe von der Henny. I couldn't put my finger on it at first. Why was I listening to this work the whole way through for the unbeteen time? It's not just the exemplary position playing, it's the fact that it encompasses so perfectly all the attributes and personality of Rams' music. All parts of the orchestra are at the top of their game, and the result is something which is rich, noble, and lush.