S2.E83. From Mezzo Forte with Weber Andante and Rondo Ungarese, via Fortissimo with Wagner Flying Dutchman and Delibes Sylvia, to Pianissimo with Verdi Otello.

Welcome back to Perfect Pitch with Nick Healy Hutchinson and his fresh approach to the world of classical music. Whether you're an expert or a beginner, old or young. Perfect Pitch has something for everyone.

Of all the instruments in a symphony orchestra, the prize for the most unsung has to go to the bassoon. And yet, what a better instrument to portray the grandfather in Prokofia's Peter and the Wolf. And how would Beethoven have built up that mighty transition into the final moment of his fifth symphony without the quiet dun dun dun dun dun on the bassoon at the beginning of one of the greatest crescendos in all music and so on. There are many examples where the absence of a bassoon would leave the final product diminished. So it's not surprising that the solo repertoire is not exactly voluminous. But about fifty years later, a Weber wrote one. And in response to the success of that, the bassoonist and the Munich Orchestra asked him to come up with something else. The Andante Anorondo Ungarese actually started its life as a piece of orchestra and his violo playing brother on it as another instrument which is frequently mocked as being subservient to its fellow strings. But Weber transcribing it to bassoon with one or two of the necessary changes needed for the switch from bowing out to blowing out. The result is a slightly melancholy theme with a few variations before launching into a lively rondo full of Weber's jollity and humour. Not just exploring a wide range of the instrument, but making tough virtuosity demands on their owners. In this case, Matt is here, principal persooners of the WDR Symphony Orchestra, which accompanies him conducted by Julio Garcia Vico. And one more little thought just before he plays. Before him, there hadn't been any German opera to speak of. Weber's operas, Oberon and Erfre, changed all that and paved the way for the creative inventiveness of Richard Wagner. Wagner would take it to new levels. And little musical phrases which make regular appearances to portray different characters. Especially when the action is virtually non-existent. It's a shame because if you ever get time to listen, you'll find that the music is quite sublime. We're going to listen to the overture now, and to appreciate what I mean about the light time to use it. I'll give you the very brief lesson option because it'll show how far we use it as a music for the purposes of imagery. The flying Dutchman has invoked the help of a sailor to navigate a safer passage around a cable at home. There is a price with a cord and a fairly one too. The Dutchman is contracted to sailing continually until you can find a woman who will love him until death. Happily, this is opera, so not for very long. The Dutchman knows his ordeal is over. But when she explains to her current suitor, the romantically named Eric, that I'm sorry, but I'm off, the Dutchman mistakenly believes that she's gone back to him. Whereupon he sets her sail again. The centre is inconsolable and throws herself off a cliff to be united elsewhere with a Dutchman who is drowned at the sea. It's much more than just an opening to an opera. It's a genius of storytelling. The overture is played here by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Herbert von Carrier. A few days ago I heard this next piece on the radio and immediately thought to myself, I've heard those notes and a similar rhythm elsewhere. Delib is best known for his ballets Coppelia and Sylvia and his opera Lacby. By now, Wagner's music was getting to be heard all around Europe, so when Delib wrote the score for Sylvia, nearly thirty years after the Peter's hired, he'll have been aware of Wagner's work. Unlike Delib, I have the ability to check out my hunch with good old YouTube, and I think it's got more than a little resemblance. Listen to these opening seconds again. I'm not a researcher, but there has to be a good chance that they leave saw the flying touchman at some point, and thought to myself, hmm, think I'll make a note of that. So I'm careful not to pass comment on current events. And yet, I can't talk to you wherever you're listening without acknowledging that the world order as I once knew it has changed beyond all recognition. So I want to play one more piece today, which will take us over the usual length, but I hope you'll benefit from it in some way. In Verdi's opera Otello, moments before Desdemona is murdered by her husband, who has been tricked by Iago into believing that she has been unfaithful, she sings the willow song, followed by a prayer. The willow has long been the symbol of sorrow and loss. Desdemona doesn't know what has happened, but she knows something's afoot. So the sense of foreboding is there throughout. Especially with the repetitions of the word salce salce salce, Italian for willow. The song is followed by the Ave Maria prayer, a widened entreaty to the Virgin Mary to pray for all sorts of people sinners or innocents, the oppressed or the powerful. Maria Callis made this her own, but for my money, the softer, warmer voice of Rennie Fleming is more suited to the text. I'll be back soon. Please do rate the podcast if you get a moment. It all helps to bring new listeners. It doesn't matter if you subscribe to any kind of belief or not. I just hope that these moments will resonate with you somehow and bring you a kind of peace. And the music is absolutely gorgeous. René Fleming is accompanied by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by George Shorty.