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Sounding Off with Tim Sawyier

A Little
Anti-Valentine's Music Anyone?
“It is better to have
loved and lost than never to have lost at all.”
–Samuel Butler
Valentine’s Day is February 14th, and as
Duke Orsino proclaims in the opening of Twelfth
Night, “If music be the food of love, play on!”
Well, if I were Duke Orsino on Valentine’s Day, I’d
say, “If music be the food of love, don’t! It’s fat
enough this time of year!” Lovers have so much to
listen to on Valentine’s Day—as in, anything—and
they’re the people who least need “entertainment”
that day. So this is a shortlist of classical
listening for those who will spend Valentine’s Day
having Chinese for one, and wine for three.
Gustav Mahler, “The Lonely One in Autumn” from
Das Lied von der Erde. Don’t feel too bad
for that lonely girl; you’re a lonely one in WINTER.
Pyotr Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 6 “Pathetique.”
Reflect on the beauty of life and love by listening
as a tortured homosexual closes his symphonic career
with a single dull gong-thud, as though intoning his
own death. (He did in fact die nine days after the
work’s premier.)
Ludwig van Beethoven “Fur Elise.” This piece is
so famous it’s easy to forget that it’s about
unattainable, obsessive love. Hard as he tries,
Beethoven can’t escape the limpid chromatic theme
representing his unrequited desires. At least the
piece kind of evaporates at the end so you can be
sure Beethoven never found what he was looking for.
Sound familiar?
Giacommo Puccini, “Madame Butterfly” A
Valentine’s Day must! Sensitive lady waits at home
for thuggish boyfriend to return. He comes back with
a floozy on his arms, because no one would have
expected that. Butterfly kills herself. As true
today as it was when it was written!
Gregorio Allegri, “Miserere Mei Deus.” Obviously
this is a good choice because it has what sounds
like the word “misery” in the title. It actually
means, “Have mercy/compassion on me, God,” but hey,
if you’re alone on Valentine’s Day, He is your one
sure companion.
Maurice Ravel, “Pavane for a Dead Princess.”
Talk about the one that got away! Maybe she would
have liked you.
Igor Stravinsky, “Danse Sacrale” from Rite of
Spring. This is the “sacrifice of the
virgin” that closes the ballet. Should remind you
that if you are a virgin on Valentine’s Day, someone
someday might have the decency to make you dance
into a frenzy and drop dead.
Happy (or whatever) listening! And seriously (for
first time in this entry), take solace in the fact
that Valentine’s Day really just isn’t that big a
deal. Unless you are a Hallmark executive.
February 1, 2012
A Quick Look at the History of
Chamber Music
Throughout the course of the Chicago Philharmonic’s
season, the Chicago Philharmonic Chamber Players
present numerous
chamber music programs at churches in Park Ridge and
Hinsdale. Since each of these concerts
will have their own program notes about the
individual works in question, I thought a brief
discussion of why chamber music itself exists in the
forms we know it would be a nice introduction to
these concerts.
The
earliest Western music dates from the Renaissance,
and was largely choral. It took the form of masses,
motets, madrigals, and other settings for voices
alone. Instruments only entered the picture to
support, often just double the vocal lines of these
compositions. It took time for the role of instruments to
shift from mere accompanying roles to being stars in
their own right.
The
earliest pieces of chamber music were in fact much
more simple than the complex vocal compositions of
the Renaissance period. Instrumentalists’ first
autonomous forms for small-scale performance were
trio sonatas, that is, two instruments with an
accompanying bass line and/or keyboard. This was the
instrumental translation of the voices of a chorus,
i.e. soprano, alto, tenor, and bass turn into two
higher instrumental voices, a supporting voice, and
a keyboard to provide harmonic underpinning and tie
the three upper voices together. During the baroque
period composers frequently wrote in such idioms,
but with ambiguous instrumentation (any top line
could be played by an oboe, flute, violin, etc).
Indeed, Bach’s “Art of Fugue” was just written
simply as fur independent parts that could be played
on a keyboard, or by four instrumentalists, of any
combination.
It
was not until Joseph Haydn that chamber music forms
became codified. He more or less “invented” the
string quartet, comprised of two violins, a viola,
and a cello. This clearly harkens back to the choral
roots of music—two higher voices, a lower, but not
bass voice, and a bass voice. With these four
instrumental voices established, composers were free
to develop a style that became almost conversational
between the different instrumentalists.
“Chamber music” was initially so called because it
was performed it was performed in, well, “chambers,”
frequently those of wealthy patrons who hired
resident composers to provide entertainment for
their courts. However, “chamber” music at some point
made a transition from people’s homes to concert
halls. As the 18th century drew on,
composers were less frequently employed by wealthy
patrons to produce entertainment. Haydn himself was
the last major composer employed in such a capacity
(in the Esterhazy Court). Beethoven and Mozart were
at times the beneficiaries of support from wealthy
patrons, but both deplored employment in their
courts, and by the close of the 18th
century, the idea of a “court composer” was all but
done with. Chamber music was no longer just for the
amusement of the aristocracy.
A
final development that brought chamber music to the
concert hall was that of instruments themselves.
Developments to the construction of string and wind
instruments made them, for lack of a better word,
louder, and the pianoforte became an instrument that
could fill a hall (as opposed to harpsichords and
other earlier keyboard instruments). This allowed
groups of as few as three players to fill even the
largest halls.
So
that is a quick synopsis of how chamber music
developed from Renaissance polyphony and found its
way from the courts of the wealthy to concert halls
around the world. It is admittedly incomplete, but I
think effective as the broadest possible overview
Hopefully with this knowledge you can better
appreciate the experience of the Chicago
Philharmonic Chamber Players performances, and every
chamber music performance you hear.
December 31, 2011

About Tim
Sawyier
During his third grade year, Tim
Sawyier fell in love with the circus, but not with
the jugglers or contortionists. That year, Tim’s dad
took him to see a production of Cirque du Soleil in
which an oboist performed while walking on a
tightrope. When, the following year, it came time to
choose an instrument, Tim emphatically said, “I want
to play the black one with silver keys!” He was
presented with a clarinet, and was justifiably
outraged. “No, I wanted the one with the needle on
the top!” He got an oboe, to his momentary and
everlasting satisfaction. 10-year-old Tim thought,
“This thing can’t be that hard, if you can do it
while walking on a tightrope!” He has spent the last
15 years of his life proving himself wrong, but at
least has more than a circus trick to show for his
endeavors. Meaning, he still can’t walk on a
tightrope.
Tim
Sawyier graduated in 2008 from Philadelphia’s Curtis
Institute of Music where he studied Richard Woodhams.
During his time at Curtis, Tim was twice a fellow at
the Tanglewood Music Center and appeared as a guest
artist at New Mexico’s “Music from Angel Fire.” In
2006, he was named one of five of the Chicago
Tribune’s “Overture Achievers: Rising Stars in
Classical Music.”
Tim
currently serves as principal oboe of the Dubuque
Symphony and as the oboist for Chicago’s “Anaphora”
Ensemble. He is also a member of the Chicago
Philharmonic (for which he is also a program
annotator), and has performed with the Louisiana
Philharmonic and Richmond Symphony.
As
a chamber musician, Tim has appeared on NPR’S “From
the Top,” the Dame Myra Hess Memorial Concert
Series, at the Green Lake and Maud Powell music
festivals, and won 3rd prize at the
Fischoff National Chamber Music Competition. In his
spare time he enjoys playing chess and tennis.
Tim
has yet to follow up on learning how to walk on a
tightrope, but still hopes one day to realize his
dream of running away with the circus. |