The Gauntlet: The Ultimate Chamber Music Challenge

Program notes by Kim Pineda and David Wilson

When one speaks of The Gauntlet certain images come to mind: defending ones honor, giving and accepting a challenge, or proceeding through a difficult course of one type or another. What we have here in this concert is a combination of all of those elements. We are not, I hasten to point out, going to slap each other in the face with gloves before each piece, and neither is each piece, while containing a fair amount of technical virtuosity for each player, only about being flashy.

Heinrich Isaac's Der Hund presents the challenge of both running the gauntlet and showing the others a fine example of ensemble playing. Its complicated rhythms are written in such a way as to not sound complicated, and the piece gives each player no opportunity to relax. Based on a secular song, the three parts run elaborate variations on the theme, display it in very slow note values, and have the tune passed back and forth between the voices. Each cadence, or arrival point, also serves as the starting point for a new musical event. The only break from the intensity of the piece is at the end of the two sections.

Heinrich Biber's Passacaglia offers another type of musical gauntlet. A technical tour de force, it has a musical intensity not seen in many pieces of music throughout the history of western music.

Giovanni Batista Fontana's Sonata XVI for three violins and continuo is a strong contrast to the previous two pieces on the program. The players all work together in relative rhythmic calmness, moving between duple and triple meter, imitating each other, and just presenting something beautiful. All voices are treated equally, although there is an extended solo for the third violin part, which is part aria (singing style) and part recitativo (spoken style). Like Der Hund, Sonata XVI brings everyone together but the gauntlet here is showing that a piece need not be so complicated to be emotionally moving.

Georg Philipp Telemann's so-called Paris Quartets were written for some of the most famous virtuosos of the 18th century. Flutist Michel Blavet was regarded as the best flutist of the day, Georg Pisendel was the concertmaster of Frederick the Great's orchestra, which was arguably the best group of its kind at the time, Antoine Forqueray was considered one of the two best viola da gamba players of his day, and, while not considered a virtuoso, Telemann himself played the harpsichord for these pieces when they were first performed. With this in mind, the movements do take advantage of each players' technical skill, but it is virtuosity with a purpose. Each movement is designed to evoke a specific emotion or character. The only movement that is deceptive is the final Modere, which is, as we like to say in the 21st century, a gut-wrenching ground bass over which the flute, violin, and viol produce an elaborate series of variations in various instrumental combinations. While tossing the gauntlet back and forth throughout the piece, the individual parts, and, of course, the composer, never lose sight of the goal of playing together.

A Tombeau is a monument to something, in Marin Marais's case to his late teach, Monsieur St. Colombe. We present this piece here today as monument and tribute to the September 11, 2001, victims and their families.

Not exactly a household name, even in modern early music circles, Jean-Joseph Cassanea de Mondonville was, well, a violin big shot and his music reflects his ability to play demanding music. The trio sonata here is the only one of the collection in which the second violin part has no double stops and does not go below the note d' (the first note above middle C and, coincidently the lowest note of the transverse flute). Perhaps written for Mondonville to play with a violin student or just a flute part, the short sonata takes advantage of the 1st violin's ability to play more than one note at a time, run through the circle of fifth's to play in bizarre keys for brief periods of time, and still have the whole effect come off as happy and effortless.

Antonio Vivaldi is a household name to many, and not just those in early music. While known as a composer who wrote virtuosic music without much substance, most of us who perform Vivaldi wonder what close-minded person started that vicious rumor. RV 438 does contain some excitement but it is mainly a piece of contrasting effects. A playful first movement with elements of being overwhelmed with delight to the detriment of mental clarity (bacchanalia), a reflective and serious second movement (with, perhaps, some scary effects that might be found in a silent movie), and a last movement which is, well, virtuosic and leaving the listener very energized.

If one is not familiar with the Brandenburg Concertos of Johann Sebastian Bach, and especially number five, well, perhaps this will inspire one to go out and get one of the hundreds of available recordings of the pieces. Musician's worldwide both revere and complain about Bach. "Great music," and "really hard to play" are common phrases heard in musical circles. This Brandenburg V (or BWV 1050 as some of us like to call it), certainly falls into both categories. The technical demands of the harpsichord part, the complex textures resulting from the exchanging of ideas between the soloists and the rest of the ensemble, provide everyone involved with both mental and physical challenges. This concerto is a significant solo piece for the harpsichord but it also very strictly follows the rules of a concerto grosso. The flute, violin, and harpsichord make up the "concertino," or solo group, and the rest of the players make up the "ripieno," or rest of the players, and the musical material is passed back and forth between the two groups. The first movement is famous for its extended harpsichord solo/cadenza, the second movement is for the concertino alone, and the last movement again brings all the players together. After a whole concert of being an integral but subdued part of the ensemble, the harpsichord (and harpsichord player), not only picks up the gauntlet and runs it, but makes the others do so as well.