Roots

PROGRAM NOTES

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor: The bamboula (1910)
Finding your roots can be particularly difficult when your father doesn’t even know you were born. This was the case for Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875-1912), whose father moved back to Sierra Leone seven months before Samuel’s birth. Coleridge-Taylor’s talent led to his admission into the prestigious Royal College of Music. His compositions were well received, earning encouragement from Edward Elgar and a tour of the United States. His popularity even resulted in an invitation to visit President Theodore Roosevelt at the White House. Inspired by African American artists, Coleridge-Taylor explored the connection with the African side of his heritage in his works. Despite these successes, Coleridge-Taylor faced financial struggles and died at 37. While his works enjoyed brief recognition after his death, they have since mostly fallen forgotten. 

Coleridge-Taylor lived during the twilight of an era when many composers sought to revive and highlight folk songs and motifs rooted in their nations’ histories. In 24 Negro Melodies, he masterfully celebrated and honored the rich musical traditions of African heritage.

“What Brahms has done for the Hungarian folk music, Dvorak for the Bohemian, and Grieg for the Norwegian, I have tried to do for these Negro Melodies.”

Among these 24 compositions is a piece titled The Bamboula, which Coleridge-Taylor later greatly expanded upon in his symphonic work. The term bamboula (or bamboua) refers to a small African drum and the ritualistic dance performed alongside it. Like many African dances, such as the quadrille and the calinda (French) or calenda (Spanish), it crossed the vast expanse from the West Coast of Africa to the Caribbean during the era of the transatlantic slave trade, serving as a powerful cultural bridge. Both music and dance served as powerful outlets for enslaved individuals to channel their frustration and anger, with drumming playing a central and vital role in this expression. In the notes attributed to Coleridge-Taylor, it is observed that, aside from the “bamboula” theme, no other thematic material is employed throughout the composition. The piece is essentially a series of variations and developments based on this single phrase. Even the contrasting middle section serves primarily to provide variation rather than introducing new subject matter. While rooted in an African theme, highlighting a broader fascination with folk music at that time, Coleridge-Taylor’s use of character, harmonic language, and structural approach firmly situates the piece within the Western classical canon.

 Bartók: Romanian Folk Dances (1915-1917)
Bartók emerged as one of Hungary’s most significant composers, drawing profound inspiration from his extensive research and expeditions into Hungarian folk music, which helped him connect deeply with his cultural roots. Journeying through the most remote regions of Hungary, Bartók and Kodály (another prominent Hungarian composer) dedicated themselves to preserving the nation’s musical heritage. They transcribed, archived, and recorded thousands of folk tunes using an Edison phonograph, meticulously classifying them. These melodies, rhythms, and harmonies from Hungary, Romania, Slovakia, and Northern Africa not only inspired their own compositions but also laid the groundwork for scholarly monographs and an extensive twelve-volume collection documenting their groundbreaking research.

Bartók identified three ways in which folk music can influence art music. First, the composer can use an authentic folk melody, enhancing it with accompaniment and possibly adding an introduction and conclusion. Second, the composer may create an original melody that imitates the style of a folksong. Finally, the composer can internalize the essence of folk music so deeply that it seamlessly becomes a natural part of their compositional language, without an overtly obvious link to the folk tradition. The Romanian Folk Dances exemplify Bartók’s skill in integrating authentic folk melodies into his distinctive compositional style, blending tradition with his personal artistic voice. As pianist and professor, Stephen Strugnell said “Bartók was particularly drawn to Romanian folk traditions because he felt that these had been more isolated from outside influences and were therefore more authentic.” All the melodies in these dances are based on traditional modal scales, the same scales found in Gregorian chant, and they also incorporate influences from Middle Eastern music. Featuring infectious rhythms, exotic scales, and traditional folk dance elements, these pieces are both captivating and foundational. They exude elegance and stand as a testament to the distinctive vision of this towering figure in twentieth-century music.

Bassi: Concert Fantasia on motives from Rigoletto (premiered 1867)
The 19th-century Romantic era ushered in a wave of virtuosic and flamboyant composers and performers, with figures like Franz Liszt and Niccolò Paganini standing out as prime examples. This surge in musical virtuosity within the Western classical tradition can be attributed to advances in musical education and the refinement of instruments. Among the many brilliant musicians of this era was Italian clarinetist Luigi Bassi. Although detailed information about Bassi is scarce, we know he was a virtuosic clarinetist, a member of the prestigious La Scala Orchestra in Milan, and a skilled composer.

Opera fantasies have often been dismissed by musicologists as mere fluff, criticized for lacking substantial musical value. However, despite such claims, these works played a significant role in broadening public knowledge and appreciation of opera. They also served as a vehicle for pushing the technical limits of solo performers, showcasing their virtuosity and creativity. Bassi was a prolific composer within the opera fantasy genre, and his works demonstrate a deep devotion to the source material. In this particular fantasy, his music seamlessly blends virtuosic flights of fancy with a profound understanding of the original themes, showcasing the full expressive and technical range of the instrument.

Dvorak: Symphony No. 8 (1889)
Antonín Dvořák deeply cherished his Bohemian heritage, a passion that permeated his music and defined his identity as a composer. His pride in Czech culture and opposition to Germanic Habsburg rule over Bohemia were evident not only in his art but also in his principles. Dvořák famously refused to have his Symphony in G Major published by his longtime publisher, Simrock, due to their insistence on using German titles for the symphony’s movements. Furthermore, Simrock’s offer of only a third of the fee he had received for his previous symphony was a slight Dvořák would not tolerate, demonstrating his steadfast commitment to his art and his roots. Instead, he turned to the London-based firm Novello to publish his Eighth Symphony.

The Eighth Symphony marked a fresh chapter in Dvořák’s artistic journey. This new chapter unveils a world rich with unexpected twists and contrasts. While one might anticipate a symphony in a major key to open with a cheerful tone, Dvořák defies convention by beginning with a somber yet profoundly beautiful mood. The composer himself described it as a new approach to developing and expressing individual ideas. This “new way” reflected Dvořák’s ability to transform his deep love for the Czech countryside into a vivid and unique sonic landscape. The symphony is imbued with the sounds of nature, featuring evocative elements such as hunting horn calls and birdsong, skillfully brought to life by various wind instruments. The composer’s biographer Otakar Sˇourek explains that Dvořák had “[h]is own garden in Vysoká [the state-sponsored retreat in southern Bohemia], which he loved ‘like the divine art itself’, and the fields and woods through which he wandered…. [These were] a welcome refuge, bringing him not only peace and fresh vigor of mind, but happy inspiration for new creative work. In communion with Nature, in the harmony of its voices and the pulsating rhythms of its life, in the beauty of its changing moods and aspects, his thoughts came more freely…. Here he absorbed poetical impressions and moods, here he rejoiced in life and grieved in its inevitable decay, here he indulged in philosophical reflections on the substance and meaning of the interrelation between Nature and life.”

Dvořák’s desire to break away from Germanic traditions is evident throughout the symphony, making it a true reflection of Bohemian cultural heritage. As the renowned Czech conductor Rafael Kubelík famously stated during rehearsal of the fourth movement, “Gentlemen, in Bohemia the trumpets never call to battle – they always call to the dance!”