Program Notes

Modeste Mussorgsky (1839-1881)

Pictures at an Exhibition (1874) orch. by Marice Ravel, 1922

scored for three flutes and piccolo, three oboes and English horn, three clarinets and bass clarinet, three bassoons and contrabassoon, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, alto saxophone, two harps, celeste, percussion, timpani and strings

In 1874, an exhibition of works in memorial to the artist Victor Alexandrovitch Hartmann was held in Russia. Almost 400 of the artist's pieces were on display including paintings, sketches, designs and watercolors. The exhibition had a profound effect on the Russian artistic community and, especially, on the artist's good friend Modest Mussorgsky. Hartmann's death had come as a terrible blow to Mussorgsky and he nearly suffered a breakdown as a result. But while viewing the show, Mussorgsky was moved to tears, and determined that he would write a suite in honor of Hartmann. A few short months later he was hard at work.

Mussorgsky chose several of Hatmann's works in the memorial exhibition as inspiration for pianistic tone-pictures and character sketches. The promenades between the movements both separate and unite the various moods by foreshadowing or changing the atmosphere. The composer admitted that the promenades were a caricature of himself, wandering, spellbound from picture to picture. In the finished suite, each appearance of the Promenade changes the mood, preparing us for what is to come, or musing on what we have just seen. The suite, which he called Pictures at an Exhibition , wasn't published until after Mussorgsky's untimely death in 1881.

The suite represents one of the most original and imaginative piano works ever written, strikingly poignant, soaringly majestic and deeply moving. It seems to cry out for orchestral color, but despite ten different orchestrations of the suite, none seem to capture the full depth of Mussorgsky's vision. But there is one that comes awfully close.

In 1922, the conductor Serge Koussevitzky commissioned French composer Maurice Ravel for an orchestration of Mussorgsky's suite. Ravel, who was quite partial to Russian music, was delighted. The first thing Ravel did was to visit his friend Michel Calvocoressi, who had spent some time in Russia researching Mussorgsky's music. Calvocoressi had in his possession a copy of Mussorgsky's original manuscript for Pictures at an Exhibition , and Ravel was eager to study it.

Up to then, no one but Calvocoressi had seen Mussorgsky's untouched score. Unfortunately, like much of Mussorgsky's music, the edition of Pictures that was first published was far from the composer's original thoughts. Mussorgsky's friend Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakoff, with, no doubt the best intentions, made numerous changes to the original when preparing it for publication. So Ravel was in the enviable position of being able to understand the piece better than anyone since Mussorgsky's death. With this knowledge he undertook what was to become a magnificent orchestration that would give Mussorgsky's music a permanent place in the concert hall. If a better orchestrator than Ravel ever lived, he is yet to be discovered, and Ravel's work on this piece is brilliant without losing sight of the essentially brooding, idiomatically Russian character of the original.

Promenade. The works opening phrase, a majestic fanfare played on trumpet, sets the scene for Mussorgsky's epic stroll through the gallery.

Gnomus. The inspiration for this macabre piece came from Hartmann's design for a nutcracker in the shape of a gnome. The music perfectly captures the nature of the horrible lumbering little monster.

Promenade. This appearance of the promenade is filled with melancholy and longing. It's character prepares us for:

The Old Castle. Mussorgsky's inspiration here is a watercolor of a troubadour singing outside an ancient castle.

Promenade. This time the promenade picks up the pace. It is heavier and bolder than the two that came before it. It fades away to make way for:

Tuileries - Children quarreling at play. Hartmann's watercolor depicts the famous French garden with nurses and their overactive charges chattering and frolicking away in the midst of their energetic games.

Byd l o. The Polish word for cattle is also the word to describe a huge cart on enormous wheels drawn by oxen, as depicted in Hartmann's drawing. The music is heavy and brooding.

Promenade. The Promenade here is in the minor mode, perhaps still thinking about the previous drawing. But soon the mood changes as we come upon

Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks. This is a design by Hartmann for a costume intended for the ballet Trilby . The costume is an enormous shell, with the chick's head, arms and legs protruding from the shell. The music is hilariously agitated representing the frantically flailing chicks trying to escape their ovine prison.

Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuyle. This was in fact two portraits of Jews, one rich, the other poor. Mussorgsky imagined a conversation between the two. The rich Jew brusque and overbearing, the poor one meek and subdued. The two themes are eventually combined. This is music of a distinctly folk character.

Limoges: The Market. A flurry of activity at a French market. Hustle and bustle as goods are passed and prices haggled over by chattering women. The piece ends in a headlong rush to

Catacombs. This is a self-portrait of Hartmann standing with Kenel, another architect and a guide examining the bones of the dead in the Paris catacombs by the light of a lantern. The music is brilliantly conceived to recreate the chamber of the tomb, with sudden outbursts followed by their dying echoes.

With the Dead in a Dead Language. Here the Promenade theme returns and is transformed into a funeral march. Mussorgsky described the music with the words, “Hartmann's creative spirit leads me to the place of the skulls and calls to them – the skulls begin to glow faintly from within.”

The Hut on Fowls Legs. Hartmann's design is for a clock in the shape of the hut of the Baba Yaga, a Russian witch who lived in a hut that rested atop the legs of a chicken. According to the legend, this terrifying creature flew by night in a mortar, using a pestle as an oar. Mussorgsky's music is as shattering and terrifying as the old crone's flight. The music reaches an overwhelming climax as it rushes toward

The Great Gate of Kiev. This is one of Hartmann's architectural designs for a city gate in Russian style with a turret shaped like a Russian helmet and with bells in the side of the wall. The music here is grand and majestic and we hear the tolling bells through the massive celebration. But occasionally a solemn chorale in tribute to Russia's orthodox beliefs interrupts the proceedings. The final bars are fearlessly optimistic.