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| Rostropovich, Oistrakh, Britten, Shostakovich |
I first heard Benjamin Britten’s Suites for Cello in 2008, when I spent a bit of time on the Brown Farm at Music from Salem in upstate New York. I had just completed my undergraduate performance study and was about to begin graduate work with my new teacher, Rhonda Rider. Until that point, most of my performance experience had been in traditional repertory and early music performance practice. As a result, my repertoire list included almost all of the standard sonatas, solo works, and concerti that are expected of cellists.
My time in Boston with Rhonda was eye opening in many ways, not the least was my exposure to music written after 1950. I became interested in commissioning new works and exploring pieces for cello that weren’t played so often. Even during my undergraduate degree program, I wasn’t drawn to the war horses of the cello rep, but rather, to things that nobody was playing. At that time, those works included Bach’s Sonatas for Viola da Gamba and Keyboard (rather than his solo Suites), Grieg’s Sonata for Cello and Piano (rather than Rachmaninoff or other high-Romantic sonatas), and Hindemith’s Solo Sonata (again, rather than playing Bach’s solo Suites).
It turned out that I was actually playing standard repertoire, and I didn’t even know it! (youthful ignorance truly is bliss!) Rhonda, my classmates, and the music scene in Boston opened my eyes to real new music and non-standard repertoire. Over the past four years, I’ve spent the majority of my time eschewing standard literature in favor of older, neglected works (such as Ned Rorem’s After Reading Shakespeare, written in the early 1980s and older than I am), new commissions (check out YOUTUBE and SOUNDCLOUD for some of these pieces, including those performed with soprano MEREDITH MECUM), and a mix of standard repertoire.
This brings me back to Benjamin Britten and his Suites for Cello. Britten (1913-1976) is hardly what one might consider a composer of “new music”. In fact, 2013 marks the 100th anniversary of his birth. Having died almost forty years ago, one would be hard pressed to argue that even his latest works are “new”. When I was first exposed to the Suites in 2008, I was struck by how incredibly traditional they are, despite being written toward the end of Britten’s life, well after 1950.
The story goes that the great cellist Mstislav Rostropovich was visiting Britten in the UK and the two were off to meet the Queen. Britten was instructing Rostropovich how to act when the Queen greeted him when Rostropovich suddenly suggested that he (Rostropovich) would curtsey in front of the Queen. Britten was horrified at this suggestion, and urged him, “Slava, no! You mustn’t do that!” Rostropovich replied, “Fine. I will do it your way, but in exchange you must write me pieces to complement Bach’s Solo Suites.” After much arguing, Britten agreed to write six suites for solo cello to pair with Bach’s masterworks. They hashed out the details and a rough contract was drawn up on the back of a restaurant menu. One of the great tragedies of cello history is that Britten did not survive to complete the fourth, fifth, and sixth suites in the set.
In 2013 I will be celebrating Britten’s centenary with multiple performances of his three Suites for Cello. I have performed each of these works individually over the past four years (though not from memory as I will be doing in these 2013 performances). These pieces are some of the few works from the twentieth century to hold a secure place in the standard cello canon. I read somewhere that these three suites are expected study for young “hotshot” cellists. Of course I have favorites, and love one of the Suites more than the others, which becomes quite obvious if one takes note of my Queering the Pitch recital series.
| Third Suite for Cello |
The Third Suite for Cello, op. 87 was premiered in 1974 by Rostropovich, but was the only Suite which Rostropovich did not record and release commercially. The piece is written in nine movements, played continuously without break. It is my opinion (and I’m quite biased) that the Third Suite is the most passionate of the three, due to it’s thematic construction and it’s date of composition, toward the end of Britten’s life.
The Suite is a sort of “reverse theme and variations”, with each of the nine movements based off of three Russian folksongs by Piotr Tchaikovsky (a la Beethoven’s Razumovsky quartets) and a final Russian theme - the Kontakion - from the Russian Orthodox Church (these four themes are presented as a set of four at the end of the piece, after their variations). The Kontakion is the Orthodox Hymn for the Dead, a striking choice considering how close to death Britten was when the Third Suite was composed. Without a doubt, I love to perform the Third Suite more than almost any other work I have ever played. It is truly a magnificent piece, arguably unmatched in the solo cello repertoire.
| First Suite for Cello |
The First Suite for Cello is second on my (unscientific and ever-changing) ranking of the Three Suites for Cello. Though I have performed the Third Suite most often, it was the First Suite that first interested me in Britten’s music. Like the Third Suite, the first is performed uninterrupted in six movements with four ‘canto’ settings acting as dividers and bookends in the work (a total of nine movements). The piece is organized as follows:
Canto 1
Mvmt. 1
Mvmt. 2
Canto 2
Mvmt. 3
Mvmt. 4
Canto 3
Mvmt. 5
Mvmt. 6/Canto 4
Cantos - meaning “song” or “singing” in Italian - are a traditional form of division in an epic poem (such as Lord Byron’s Don Juan, or Dante’s The Divine Comedy). These canto divisions are wailing, ardent songs which display Britten’s stark tonal and virtuosic vocal writing, made up of intervals (thirds, fourths, sixths, to name a few) which are incredibly pleasing to the ear - when played in tune! A close friend of mine once told me that he couldn’t stand to listen to the new music that I often played. During recitals he was forced to sit on his hands and found them balled in to fists during my performances; the music just made him so anxious and uncomfortable. The First Suite for Cello, however, melted his cold, anti-new-music heart and became the piece he wanted to hear most (while I practiced he often called from a different room, “Hey, play that one that I like,” without any other detail).
| Second Suite for Cello |
The Second Suite for Cello is, perhaps unreasonably, my least favorite of the three Suites. Unlike the other two, it is organized in five movements which (thankfully) utilize breaks between movements. Premiered in 1968, the Second Suite for Cello was composed amidst a large output of vocal works (solo, choral, operatic) and was the only piece - save the Suite for Harp - of instrumental music during this time period. As such, I think that the Second Suite is the most operatic of the three Suites, despite the songs composed in to the other two works. The opening movement is titled Declamato and sounds - to me - like an operatic tenor warming up, perhaps inspired by Britten’s partner, the great tenor Peter Pears. The Second Suite includes some of the greatest examples of imitative writing for solo cello in all of the repertoire, the second movement Fuga and the massive fifth movement Ciaccona which ends the piece.
When I asked friends what opinions they had of Britten and his music, I received some interesting answers. When asked what he likes the most and the least about Benjamin Britten, one friend said, “His music. It’s difficulty,” in response to each respective question. While I agree, I pressed for further answers, and this friend found it difficult to respond. I understand the sentiment, as I myself find it hard to put in to words why Britten is so difficult to comprehend on it’s surface level.
A musicologist friend told me, “I think of him as a harmonically-linguistically across-the-pond parallel to Copland. They were progressive, but without losing the listenable quality that makes it accessible to the layman.”
And that is what I find so intriguing about Britten. His music has a deceptive surface level simplicity that has not been replicated by progressive composers since his time. But when one delves deeper in to the music, one finds that the seemingly simplistic romance and the beauty of his music is supported by a musical complexity that one would expect in the highly organized (and also beautiful) music of Boulez or Xenakis.
In short, I love Benjamin Britten's music and so do audiences. It is always a thrill to present these masterworks in concert and I am ridiculously excited to give my first performance of the complete cycle in 2013. Until that concert (which I am striving to stream live online), I encourage you to take a LISTEN to a live recording of the Third Suite for Cello from a performance I gave in February 2012 during my residency at the UNIVERSITY OF SOUTH FLORIDA School of Music.
UPDATE (10/07/2012): It's so wonderful to continue to work on these masterpieces. I recently finished memorizing the Third Suite and have started in on the First Suite. The Second Suite is the Suite that I am least familiar with and that which poses the most technical difficulties (in my opinion) so it will be an ongoing work-in-progress.
The goal is to have each Suite memorized by the end of 2012, but it remains to be seen whether or not that will happen, what with other recitals, concerto work, and chamber music concerts which dot the calendar.
This is the most fun I've had in the practice room in a long time, as this is also the first time that I've had an extended period of time (more than a month or two, that is) to work on a recital. And not since my first Queering the Pitch recital have I been so fully invested in the music and the meaning of the project.
The first performances that I'll be giving of the Suites for Cello will be in late February of 2013. After that, others are sporadically scheduled. Hopefully 2013 will be more than a celebration of my FINAL graduation, but also the celebration of MANY, MANY, MANY performances of Britten's three Suites for Cello.
UPDATE (10/07/2012): It's so wonderful to continue to work on these masterpieces. I recently finished memorizing the Third Suite and have started in on the First Suite. The Second Suite is the Suite that I am least familiar with and that which poses the most technical difficulties (in my opinion) so it will be an ongoing work-in-progress.
The goal is to have each Suite memorized by the end of 2012, but it remains to be seen whether or not that will happen, what with other recitals, concerto work, and chamber music concerts which dot the calendar.
This is the most fun I've had in the practice room in a long time, as this is also the first time that I've had an extended period of time (more than a month or two, that is) to work on a recital. And not since my first Queering the Pitch recital have I been so fully invested in the music and the meaning of the project.
The first performances that I'll be giving of the Suites for Cello will be in late February of 2013. After that, others are sporadically scheduled. Hopefully 2013 will be more than a celebration of my FINAL graduation, but also the celebration of MANY, MANY, MANY performances of Britten's three Suites for Cello.




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