Having just celebrated the Semiquincentenial on the 4th, our next program, which begins this Thursday, July 9 at the Ottum Residence in Sturgeon Bay, acknowledges our Revolution from a musical perspective, and that is not an easy thing to do. One might think that we could play some chamber music selections from that time, and that would be it. Were it ever so easy! The problem is, that there was not a very robust musical tradition in our fledgling would-be country at that time and certainly not as far as chamber music. What little there was probably was imported, and that appears to be scant.

What we did have was some robust folk-music, religious music including hymns and devotional songs, and a bit of brass band music. Some of this was imported, but there was a growing element of local offerings being added to the mix. The idea of something like a symphony orchestra was but a glimmer of a dream. The New York Philharmonic, the first in the U.S., didn’t start up until 1842, followed by the Boston Symphony in 1881, and the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1900. Stephen Foster would not add his folk-song contributions to our communal ear until the mid 1800s, and John Philip Sousa’s marches didn’t begin to sweep through our parades and concerts until the very late 1800s. Incidentally, Foster was born on July 4th, 1826, the 50th anniversary of our founding, which was the same day that both John Adams and Thomas Jefferson passed away.

Prior to the signing of the Declaration, the closest thing to what we might think of as classical music came here from the Moravian religious community. From Moravia and Germany they brought a fairly robust tradition of church music, music for brass ensembles, and string quartets. Early settlements included Bethlehem, PA and Winston-Salem, NC.

Among the founders, Thomas Jefferson was a particular standout for his interest in music. This may have stemmed, in part, from the time he spent in France. Regardless, he had a significant collection of instruments such as harpsichords, and some very valuable violins including what may have been an Amati (valuable indeed!). Jefferson is also known for his wide variety of inventions including the four-sided book stand that some believe he intended for use for string quartet playing. All four players would face one another in a square and use the same stand.

George Washington, on the other hand, was not so musically inclined, at least as a performer. He wrote in a letter to a composer, who sent him some songs, that he [Washington] could, “neither sing one of the songs, nor raise a single note of any instrument.” However, he seems to have had enough of an ear that he was dissatisfied with the fife and drum corps in his army.

As a matter of perspective, it is interesting to note that Joseph Haydn and George Washington were born in the same year (1732). In fact, their birthdays are only 37 days apart. Haydn is known as the Father of the Symphony, while Washington became the Father of our Country.

Unlike the Mozart, which was written at the time of the Revolution, our second work on the program is a brand-new piece written just for us and for this occasion. From a planning standpoint, big anniversaries have to be noted on the horizon well in advance. We are already keeping big Beethoven and Schubert years in mind for 2027 and 2028. When it first occurred to me a few years ago that the Semiquincentenial (try saying that fast five times!) was approaching, I began to think of how we might respond. I talked to several composers with whom we have worked about ideas and if they were interested. The most fruitful discussion and subsequent ideas came from George Meyer who has been with us now for several years. I was delighted by his interest because I thought that his talent, style, and performance ability made him just the right fit for this endeavor. I was looking for something with a kind of down-home, personal feel, rather than a lofty moralizing approach, and George’s wonderful comfort level in everything from Bach to Bluegrass seemed perfect.

Of course, the proof will be in the pudding, and nobody has yet heard his work (not even George, I suspect) in its final form. What we do know is that it will involve George as a violin soloist, moving from classical elements to popular styles of that day, along with our own Griffon String Quartet. The work is in three contrasting movements, but in between are sections of text that will be narrated and accompanied by the flute of Heather Zinninger. Heather will be playing actual tunes from the period.

As I have been doing my own background research on the period surrounding July 4th, 1776, I have begun to take on a somewhat revised perspective. Yes, this was a substantial grievance between the strongest country in the world, and a colony they wished to keep in line and get the income from us they could, especially in the form of taxes, but it also became a battle within the colonies. In some ways, one could think of it as our first Civil War. Except, this time it was not states (or colonies) against each other, but segments of the population, individuals, even family members, who were pitted against each other. Current estimates are that about 40 percent of the population opposed the action in Philadelphia and 60 percent were in support, but even there, the degree of commitment was highly variable. This was a very personal struggle that found friend against friend in some cases, and this is just the dynamic that George seems to have delved into using music as his medium. Here is what he sent me very recently in which he included for the first time, his title:

“This piece, entitled “My Dear Brother,” began as a conversation with Jim Berkenstock, who suggested we consider a commission in celebration of America’s founding. The music I write is heavily influenced by what might be called American “roots” music (bluegrass, blues, old fiddle traditions, and so forth); we thought that that style could be a good fit for the occasion. In approaching the piece, I worked to familiarize myself with the music of 1776, and the first thing I noticed was that musicians such as Thomas Jefferson and Patrick Henry – fiddlers both – would have played some of the same tunes I grew up playing. These tunes could already be called American, perhaps, and they form the bedrock of our repertoire, but they were imports from the British Isles, and were played there too. The versions I know are products of a shared culture. In revisiting the history, personalities, ideas, and language of the period, I was struck more than before by the experience of ordinary people who were forced to choose sides: accounts of school-fellows and even relatives encountering each other in battle resonated deeply for me with what I found in the music: British music and American music were, and to a meaningful extent remain, one and the same. The moment did not represent a struggle between two cultures so much as a sundering of one — especially within the colonies. The piece’s title, “My Dear Brother,” comes from the aftermath of Saratoga, when two brothers in opposed armies recognized each other across the river and swam to meet each other, shouting for joy.”

Following George’s work and an intermission, we will turn to a work from about 100 years after the Revolution. As a country, we had to develop our government and institutions over time. because the initial Articles of Confederation didn’t suffice. A more substantial Constitution, which came in 1788 (drafted the year before) had to be created. Then we added a Bill of Rights (1791), which included the first 10 Amendments to the Constitution. We also had to establish governmental offices and a judiciary, and eventually fight a Civil War(!) In other words, it was a mighty process, and to an extent still is. We also were developing our own unique culture as a nation, and music was a part of that. Since there were no schools of music, serious musicians went to Europe for training and brought back European styles of music. George Chadwick followed this path, but somehow, even during his studies in Germany from 1877-’88, he managed to begin to integrate some American musical elements into his German prototypes. Notably, he wrote two string quartets during this time and both show this penchant for introducing music from his rural Massachusetts background into a predominantly German approach.

After touring more of Europe, he returned to the U.S. and began to write operas, symphonies, and concertos (a relatively successful overture was entitled Rip van Winkle). In 1897, he was appointed Director of the New England Conservatory. In this position he influenced the next generation of American composers and had a successful career as a conductor while continuing his composition. In short, he was a seminal figure in the development of the American style and helped free it from some of its European roots. His Fourth String Quartet in E Minor, which we will be performing, dates from 1895 and is a mature work. It shows how Chadwick had developed what was to be called elements of “an American sound” at, or even before, the time Dvorak was doing so in his Symphony, From the New World, and in his American String Quartet. The big difference is that Dvorak got credit for this novelty, but Chadwick was exploring this quality already 20 years earlier in his first two quartets.

This will be a fine opportunity for our summer listeners to experience the Griffon String Quartet, our quartet-in-residence that blankets Door and Brown Counties during the school year with programs for all ages, string instruction, and novel appearances for under-served audiences throughout all corners of the community. This is a highly professional (all have advanced degrees), full-time, paid team that appears in over 100 events throughout the year – the most prolific and far-reaching ensemble of its type in Northeastern Wisconsin and a prototype for other ensembles across the country. For this performance, the members of the quartet will be joined by cellist, Paula Kosower.

Jim Berkenstock
Artistic Director