Cellos for the Soul, Vol. I

For Cellos for the Soul, Vol. I , I’ve collected several of my favorite pieces and have recorded them in cello ensemble form. Some are vocal transcriptions and others were originally string chamber music or orchestral pieces. But the feature they all share is that I’ve found each in their own way to be salve for the soul. 

As you listen, I encourage you to refer to the brief program notes appearing below. You may find it easiest to open two browser windows, one with the playlist and the other starting at the program notes to help minimize scrolling. You can start and stop anywhere in the playlist for your convenience. On a mobile device, if a popup appears, I recommend choosing “Listen in Browser” for a more seamless experience.

About the Music

For this Cellos for the Soul playlist, I have grouped the first three selections into a triptych of sorts with the common theme of love seen through three different lenses, each with weighty consequences.

Italian composer, choir master, Roman Catholic priest and string player Claudio Giovanni Antonio Monteverdi (1567-1643) was a crucial transitional figure between the Renaissance and Baroque periods. He is credited with helping develop the new genre of opera and also helped bring a secular spirit to church music. One of the most romantic moments in all of opera is at the end of his final opera, L’incoronazione di Poppea (Act III, Scene 7), the duet Pur ti miro, pur ti stringo (I gaze at you, I delight in you). The setting and story of the opera recounts more or less historical facts around the decadent Roman emperor Nero, who, despite being married to Empress Octavia, falls in love with mistress Poppea. Leaving aside for the moment the unsavory aspects of the story as well as the collateral damage (for example, philosopher-advisor Seneca is ordered to commit suicide, Empress Octavia is set adrift at sea) Pur ti miro is one of the most glorious love duets ever written. Presented here is an arrangement for 4 cellos.

English Baroque composer Henry Purcell (1659–1695) was born into a musical family. His father was a gentleman of the Chapel Royal and sang for the coronation of King Charles II of England. Purcell was a children’s chorister until his voice broke when he began work in organ building and as a copyist at Westminster Abbey. Purcell began composing at the age of 9 and concentrated on songs to accompany drama as well as some sacred choral music. Somewhere in the period 1680 - 1688 Purcell composed his most famous work, the chamber opera Dido and Aeneas which is based on Book IV of Virgil’s Aeneid. The story recounts the travails of the Trojan warrior Aeneas, travelling to Italy from the betrayed and fallen Troy in order to settle there, where he is destined to become the founder the Roman Empire. When his ship is blown off course he lands instead in Carthage on the north shore of Africa where he falls in love with Queen Dido. When he ultimately departs for Italy as originally planned, Dido, distraught at being abandoned, orders a pyre built for her to be set ablaze so that Aeneas can see from his ship that she has killed herself. Before stabbing herself, she sings a poignant farewell lament “When I am laid in earth” which has become known as Dido’s Lament.  Harpsichordist and conductor Trevor Pinnock explains some musical background behind what makes Dido’s Lament one of the saddest compositions ever written. Barnaby Martin dives even deeper on the Lament bass from a musical analysis perspective and illustrates how the lament has been effectively used in subsequent music, including by the Beatles, Elton John, Radiohead and Harry Potter film scores. Presented here is an arrangement for 5 cellos.

Mille regretz is a French chanson from the 15th century generally attributed to Josquin des Prez (1450-1521), one of the greatest composers of the Renaissance period known for his work on polyphony as well as developing the relationship between music and text. The birth of music printing helped to cement Josquin’s reputation which endures throughout recorded music history. Josquin’s version of the chanson is in Phrygian mode, which creates a plaintive mood for the text:

Text:
Mille regretz de vous abandonner
Et d'eslonger vostre fache amoureuse,
Jay si grand dueil et paine douloureuse,
Quon me verra brief mes jours definer.

In Modern French:
Mille regrets de vous abandonner
et de m'éloigner de votre visage amoureux.
J’ai si grand deuil et peine douloureuse
qu’on verra vite mes jours prendre fin.

English Translation:
A thousand regrets at deserting you
and leaving behind your loving face,
I feel so much sadness and such painful distress,
that it seems to me my days will soon dwindle away.

Presented here is an arrangement for 4 cellos.

The “tryptich” I referenced at the outset, grouping the first three selections, span a century and a half but illuminate timeless themes of love and consequences. In Monteverdi’s Pur ti miro, Emperor Nero wins Poppea and both are deliriously happy, although at the expense of Empress Octavia. Purcell’s Aeneas wins Queen Dido but ultimately abandons her. And Josquin’s unnamed protagonist has a thousand regrets after abandoning his love. 

When Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) was Cantor of Leipzig’s St. Thomas Church, in charge of liturgical music in three Lutheran churches, he was also director of the Leipzig Collegium Musicum. During this period, the orchestral suite, or ouverture, was a very popular compositional form in Germany. Borrowed from the French, this form was familiar for the time - several dance movements preceded by a stately opening overture. Interestingly, while other composers churned out sometimes fantastic numbers of these orchestral suites (Telemann wrote over a hundred), Bach only wrote four. Of these four, the third is the best known, largely due to it’s famous second movement, Air, which is one of the most recognized and beloved compositions in all of Western music. “Air” refers to its vocal style of melodic line, as in Italian operatic arias. In this case, Bach created incredibly long sustained melodic lines, suspended over a “walking” bass line, combined with intertwined inner voices, to a magical effect. The movement is sometimes known as “Air on a G string” which violinist August Wilhelmj popularized in a version in C major, where the violin line is played entirely on the G string. Presented here is an arrangement for 4 cellos.

French composer Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924) is known for his piano, vocal and chamber music but seemed less interested larger symphonic forms. That said, in 1887 he composed his Pavane, Op. 50  for small orchestra with ad libitum chorus. It’s somber mood may have been the result of Faurés grief over his father’s death, which also influenced his Requiem composed the same year. Many feel the text for the chorus by Robert, comte de Montesquiou-Fezensac adds relatively little to the work so the Pavane is rarely performed with chorus. A “pavane” is solemn courtly dance from the Renaissance, perhaps imitating the haughty gait of a peacock (pavo). The Pavane became quite popular prompting Fauré to make a piano arrangement in 1889. Presented here is an arrangement for 8 cellos.

Edward Elgar (1857-1934) was born into a musical family in Broadheath, in the west of England. His father ran a music shop and there young Edward became familiar with a great number of instruments. He studied violin and became proficient enough by age 16 to support himself freelancing and teaching. His true passion was composing, although his initial attempts proved frustrating. Fortunately with his Enigma Variations in 1899 Elgar became recognized as a composer of national importance. There are at least two levels of mysteries surrounding the Enigma Variations. The first is relatively straightforward, with each movement describing, musically, a friend or acquaintance, suggested by initials attached to each section. Elgar also hints a deeper mystery: “The enigma I will not explain - its ”dark saying” must be left unguessed, and I warn you that the apparent connection between the Variations and Theme is often the slightest texture; further, through and over the whole set  another and larger theme “goes,” but is not played - so the principal Theme never appears, even as in some dramas - e.g. Maeterlinck’s L’Intruse and Les Sept princesses - the chief character is never on stage.” If you’d like to dig deeper into the many layered Enigmas, I highly recommend a wonderful video by Barnaby Martin.

Nimrod, from Variation IX, is the Biblical hunter in Genesis, depicting Elgar’s musical publisher and musical confidante, August Jaeger (German for Hunter). Jaeger was a German born musician working for the London music publishing house, Novello, but on a more personal level, he helped sustain Elgar through frequent and severe bouts of depression. Elgar stated “The Variation [Nimrod] ...is the record of a long summer evening talk, when my friend [Jaeger]  discoursed eloquently on the slow movements of Beethoven, and said that no one could approach Beethoven at his best in this field, a view in which I cordially concurred.”  Nimrod has become a staple for all services of Remembrance and is used at British funerals and celebrations alike. When the Queen’s death was announced in 2022, the Proms programs were cancelled and in lieu of the originally planned program, the Philadelphia Orchestra performed the national anthem and Elgar’s Nimrod.  Presented here is an arrangement for 6 Cellos by Gwyn Seymore.

Even without Adagio for Strings, Samuel Barber’s (1910-1981) career was enormously successful - he was a prolific composer with a large catalog of piano works, songs, chamber and orchestral works. He won numerous awards including the American Prix de Rome and two Pulitzer Prizes. Accepted to the Curtis Institute at the age of fourteen, he was gifted in piano, singing and composition. At age 29 he accepted a teaching position at his alma mater but as prestigious as this was, he discovered that academia was not for him and ultimately devoted his full attention to composition. In 1936 Barber composed his first string quartet, published as Op. 11. He sensed early on that the slow movement, Adagio, would take on special importance and arranged a string orchestra version for Arturo Toscanini, whose performance with the NBC Symphony was highly successful. Over the years, Barber’s Adagio has become the semi-official anthem of mourning in America, shared at the announcement of Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s death, after the assasination of John F. Kennedy, and the memorial after 9/11. In this way, it has taken its place beside Elgar’s Nimrod in Great Britain, for moments of national reflection and grief. Presented here is an arrangement for 4 cellos.

Italian composer Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936) planted his feet firmly in two worlds, modern and ancient. He became a scholar of early music including Monteverdi and Vitali and transcribed pieces by Renaissance and early Baroque composers while incorporating his more modern sensibilities. Respighi composed three suites of Ancient Airs and Dances based on Italian and French lute music from the early 17th century. Suite No. 3 (1931) is scored for string orchestra but it can be performed by a string quartet by omitting the bass part. Italiana, first movement of Suite No. 3, is based on a lute galliard, probably originally composed by Santino Garsi de Parma. Presented here is an arrangement for 4 cellos.

Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg (1843-1907) also sometimes looked to the past for inspiration. Celebrating the 200th anniversary of classical-era playwright Ludvig Holberg, Grieg composed From Holberg’s Time - Suite in the Olden Style  in 1884. The Holberg Suite, as it is more simply known today, was born first as a piano piece but after its great success, Grieg transcribed it for string orchestra. Like the orchestral suites, it consists of an introduction and a set of dances.  Presented here is the 3rd movement, Gavotte and Musette which is light and uplifting. This is an arrangement for 5 cellos by Gwyn Seymore.

Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943) enjoyed a remarkable career as a pianist, conductor and composer, first in Russia and ultimately in the United States. As a composer, he was the last great figure in the tradition of Russian Romanticism even though he wrote mostly during the 20th century when other more radical musical transformations were developing. Among his notable and enduring compositions are Piano Concertos Nos. 2 & 3, Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini, Symphony No. 2, a large body of works for piano solo, and 83 songs. Vocalise is the final song in a series of fourteen, Op. 34, published in 1915. Unlike most songs, Vocalise has no text. When soprano Antonia Nezhdanova inquired about this, Rachmaninoff replied, “What need is there of words, when you will be able to convey everything better and more expressively than anyone could with words by your voice and interpretation?” Nezhdanova and Rachmaninoff premiered Vocalise on January 24, 1916. Later Rachmaninoff arranged the piece for soprano and orchestra, as well as for orchestra alone. Over the years countless arrangements for other instrumental combinations have been written as well. I present Vocalise in an arrangement for 6 cellos.

Rachmaninoff was greatly influenced by his mentor, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893), with whom Rachmaninoff studied at the Moscow Conservatory. Tchaikovsky was impressed by the young Rachmaninoff and asked that he send all of his compositions for critique. Tchaikovsky’s death in 1893 was a factor in Rachmaninoff’s period of profound depression and writer’s block. Although Tchaikovsky is known more for his larger scale works such as his symphonies, piano concerti, a violin concerto, opera and ballet, he did compose a relatively small but not insignificant amount of chamber music, including three string quartets. His first chamber composition was the String Quartet in D Major, Op. 11, in 1871. On a meager salary teaching at the Moscow Conservatory, Tchaikovsky was urged by Nikolai Rubinsten (brother of Anton Rubinstein, founder of the Moscow Conservatory) to put on a concert to raise money. The Quartet was written very quickly, mere weeks before the concert. The Quartet’s second movement, Andante cantible, is based on a heartfelt Ukranian folk melody. Six years later, Tchaikovsky wrote in his diary, following a performance of the Quartet at the Moscow Conservatory “Never in my life have I felt so flattered and proud of my creative ability as when Leo Tolstoy, sitting next to me, heard my Andante with tears coursing down his cheeks.”  Andante cantabile ultimately became a very popular and frequently performed stand alone movement. Tchaikovsky transcribed it into a very successful version for cello and orchestra. I present it here in an arrangement for 5 cellos.

Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904), the first Bohemian composer to achieve worldwide recognition, had a gift for turning folk melodies, mostly from what is now the Czech Republic, into complex notated concert music. After making his name with a series of symphonies, concertos and operas, he was on the cusp of leaving his position at the Prague Conseravtory to run a conservatory in New York. Before leaving, he organized a farewell concert tour across 39 cities  in 1892, where he would appear both as a pianist and composer, joined by violinist Ferdinand Lachner and cellist Hanus Wihan (to whom Dvořák dedicated his Cello Concerto). Realizing that he didn’t have any cello music to perform with Wihan, Dvořák turned to his own composition, From the Bohemian Forest, originally six pieces for piano four-hands, and arranged one movement, Klid, for cello and piano.  Klid probably translates best as “rest” (or “peace, serenity, calm, repose, quiet, still”) but Dvořák’s publisher, Simrock, suggested a different title might sell better: Waldesruhe, meaning “Silent Woods.” Wihan and Dvorak first performed Waldesruhe on March 24, 1892 and it became immensely popular. Once Dvořák arrived in New York, he again arranged Wadesruhe, this time for cello and orchestra, in 1894. Presented here is an arrangement for 8 cellos.

Ida Rubeinstein, formerly of Serge Diaghilev’s Ballets Russe, commissioned Maurice Ravel (1974-1937) to write an orchestral transcription of Isaac Albeniz’s Iberia for her ballet troupe. Ravel soon discovered that Spanish conductor Enrique Arbos had already done this, and copyright law prevented further arrangements. Instead, Ravel decided to create a new piece, Boléro, which was ultimately choreographed by Bronislava Nijinska (sister of Vaslav Nijinsky) featuring a Gypsy woman dancing on a table in a Spanish tavern, succeeding in whipping the audience into an uncontrolled frenzy. 

Boléro’s enduring fame came in the concert hall, particularly after an admittedly controversial  performance conducted by Arturo Toscanini in 1930. One critic described it as “...the most insolent monstrosity every perpetrated in the history of music...it is simply the incredible repetition of a single rhythm...and above it is a blatant recurrence of an overwhelmingly vulgar cabaret tune.” Ravel wrote, in a rebuttal letter in the London Daily Telegraph: “[Boléro] is an experiment in a very special and limited direction, and it should not be suspected of aiming at achieving anything different from, or anything more than, it actually does achieve. Before the first performance, I issued a warning to the effect that what I had written was a piece...consisting wholly of orchestral texture without music - of one long very gradual crescendo...There are no contrasts, and there is practically no invention except for the plan and the manner of execution. The themes are impersonal - folk tunes of the usual Spanish-Arabian kind. Whatever may have been said to the contrary, the orchestra treatment is simple and straightforward throughout, without the slightest attempt at virtuosity...I have done exactly what I have set out to do, and it is for listeners to take it or leave it.” 

Indeed towards the end of his life, Ravel lamented to fellow composer Arthur Honnegger, about his most popular piece: “I’ve written only one masterpiece - Boléro. Unfortunately, there is no music in it.”  Some historians believe that Ravel was experiencing early symptoms of fronto-temporal dementia as he composed Boléro. One aspect of this degenerative brain disease is the obsessive need for repetition, which can certainly be seen in the structure of Boléro. Six years after finishing Boléro, Ravel began to forget words and lose his short term memory. Sadly, by 1935, two years before his death, he could no longer write or speak. If you would like to explore the background of Boléro more deeply I highly recommend Barnaby Martin’s video. Here I am presenting an arrangement of Boléro for 6 Cellos by Diane Chaplin, member of the Portland Cello Project. Her arrangement is shorter than the original, which reduces the repetition but retains the driving rhythm, inventive use of tonal color and the gradual but relentless crescendo as Ravel intended.