Program Notes: The Miraculous Mandarin

WILLIAM L. DAWSON
Negro Folk Symphony
Born: September 26, 1899, in Anniston, Alabama
Died: May 2, 1990, in Montgomery, Alabama
Work composed: 1934
World premiere: November 20, 1934, at Carnegie Hall in New York City

In 1934, following Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra’s premiere of his Negro Folk Symphony, William Levi Dawson joined Florence B. Price and William Grant Still in the completion of a Black symphonist trinity. Dawson joined his colleagues in showing that (perceived-outmoded) elements of the Romantic period — programmatic narrative, folk expressions of national identity and the symphony itself — were still ripe for personal expression, modern innovation and cultural commentary. As Dawson shared in an interview: “I’ve not tried to imitate Beethoven or Brahms, Franck, or Ravel — but to be just myself, a Negro. To me, the finest compliment that could be paid my symphony when it has its premiere is that it unmistakably is not the work of a white man. I want the audience to say: ‘Only a Negro could have written that.’”

One of the major ways Dawson centers African American idioms is his use of thematic reference and rhythm and polyphony as form and harmonic progression. The first movement, “The Bond of Africa,” is based on the Negro spiritual — or as Dawson referred to them, Negro folk songs — “Oh, My Little Soul Gwine Shine Like a Star.” Fragmented and polyphonic textures cradle and push the main theme through different orchestral sections and melodic development. The second movement, “Hope in the Night,” evokes the tragic terror of enslavement and hope of freedom through lyrical, haunting passages.“O Lem-Me Shine,” the third and final movement, is built upon the Negro spirituals “O Lemme Shine” and “Hallelujah, Lord, I Been Down into the Sea.” Again, rhythm and polyphony drive the finale’s melodic development; the embrace of instruments’ distinctive timbres create another layer of tension and resolution with the harmony. Dawson charts a journey from Africa to America, a powerful sonic expression of Black American history and modernity as well as the continued emotional power of the symphonic form.

ALEXANDER GLAZUNOV
Violin Concerto in A minor, Op. 82
Born: August 10, 1865, in St. Petersburg, Russia
Died: March 21, 1936, in Neuilly-sur-Seine, France
Work composed: 1904
World premiere: February 15, 1905, in St. Petersburg  by the Russian Musical Society with violinist Leopold Auer.

The life and career of Alexander Glazunov sat in the nexus of two major periods of classical music history: the twilight of Romanticism and nationalism (for some), and the beginnings of the eclectic 20th century. From 1880 to 1882, Glazunov studied with Rimsky-Korsakov and a short time later become a part of the Belyayev Circle, the name given to the collective of composers supported by arts patron Mitrofan Petrovich Belyayev. Through performances and tours sponsored by Belyayev, Glazunov and his colleagues became fixtures of St. Petersburg’s musical society, eventually spilling out to the broader, international classical music community.

Stylistically, Glazunov combines the rich lyricism of the previous generation of Russian composers with the harmonic crunchiness and darkness that would become very common in 20th century works. His Violin Concerto in A minor, like many concertos composed in the 20th century, is a purposeful exploration of the limits of genre and the relationship between lyricism and virtuosity. Though divided into three movements, the violinist and orchestra play without pause, a technique not without precedent (see Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto), but which would become more popular in the coming decades (see Price’s Concerto in One Movement and Violin Concerto No. 2).

The opening section makes full use of the violin’s tonal richness, nuance and virtuosity, from the lyrical opening to the intense recapitulation to the introspective cadenza. The cadenza was written by Glazunov himself, a practice also with precedent (see Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto) that would be used by other composers in following decades. As the lower strings and woodwinds enter, the virtuosic scale passages of the soloist lead directly into the final section, heralded by the brass. All parties move between familiar and new melodic sections in a jubilant rondo form, with a playful, folk character that calls to mind the third movement of Dvorak’s violin concerto (also in A minor!). As the soloist and orchestra get closer to the end, Glazunov pulls out all the stops: the tempo increases as the soloist races to the stratosphere of their fingerboard, skates over the strings with harmonics and breaks out some strumming pizzicato. It’s an opportunity to let loose and have fun, a joyful rush to the end.

BÉLA BARTÓK
Suite from The Miraculous Mandarin, Op. 19, BB. 82
Born: March 25, 1881, in Nagyszentmiklós, Hungary
Died: September 26, 1945, in New York City
Work composed: 1918-19, 1924
World premiere: November 27, 1926, conducted by Eugen Szenkar at the Cologne Opera, in Cologne, Germany

Bartok’s Suite from The Miraculous Mandarin comes from his ballet of the same name. Based on a story by the Hungarian dramatist, Melchior Lengyel, the one-act pantomime grotesque was met with furious outcry and banned following its premiere in Germany.

The plot: three thieves — two men and one woman — are hustling strangers. The young woman acts as the lure; the first two potential victims have no money and are tossed out. But the third, a Chinese man, has valuables and is struck with passion for the woman. As he pursues her, the two male thieves attack, rob him and attempt to suffocate him. When that doesn’t work, they stab him three times and hang him from a lamp hook. As he dies, the man begins to glow, terrifying the thieves until the woman has an epiphany. She and the man make love, and then he dies.

The Miraculous Mandarin was composed in the glow of anti-Asian immigration legislation and discrimination throughout the West; intense fascination and exotification of Asian culture by European and American artists and performers; and formalizing of racist Asian stereotypes like the “Mandarin,” often portrayed as a lustful Chinese man obsessed with white women. While the suite has been performed more often than the ballet, the racist residue is present in the programmatic aspects of the work. It’s an important reminder that music can communicate the ugliness of our society as well as the beautiful and just.

Divided into eight movements, the suite opens with the I. Beginning—Curtain rises, angular, abrasive and metallic; it is clear the world we’re entering is not a friendly, compassionate place. In II. First seduction game and III. Second seduction game, solo oboes and pizzicato strings are centered, as if hinting at the slow dance that quickly morphs into violence as the first two victims are removed. The beginning of IV. Third seduction game—the Mandarin enters is uncertain and mysterious, growing more harried and hectic as the woman dances until the Chinese man appears amid sliding brass and fortissimo trills. V. Dance of the Girl, VI. The chase—the tramps leap out, and VII. Suddenly the Mandarin’s head appears move between unclear eerie sonic stasis to frenetic, accented motion (the concert suite typically ends with V. Dance of the Girl). In VIII. The Mandarin falls to the floor, a shrill, fortissimo section introduces a chorus of wavering voices, signaling the glow emanating from the dying man. The embrace and union between him and the woman are signaled by low brass over trills in the woodwinds; the return of the glissando first heard in the man’s entrance signals his death. And so ends a lurid, ordinary and terrifying tale of despair, lust and cruelty.

All notes by A. Kori Hill © 2022