Third Concert of the 75th Season

Tim Reed grew up in Alabama and did his doctoral studies in Florida before moving north. Tim is currently Assistant Professor of Music Theory and Composition at Manchester University. He holds degrees from the University of Florida, Illinois State University, and LaGrange College.

Reflections on Peace is a new work scored for children's chorus, antiphonal choir, and orchestra. The music is intended to be satisfying as a piece in its own right, but Dr. Reed also intended it to be a special experience for the children who collaborated in its creation. The work was composed specifically for this performance and specifically for the Vocal Impact Youth Chorus.

The composer writes, "I wanted to involve the kids in the composition process, so I asked them to collaborate with me in writing the text. I visited a Vocal Impact rehearsal in October and asked the kids the question, 'What is peace? What does peace mean to you?' I took the responses and formatted them into a simple poem. Within the piece, the text of that poem is presented in alternation with phrases from the St. Francis Prayer. The main focus in the piece is the children's chorus, and the orchestra is (for the most part) in a supporting role."

Dr. Reed's music is available through Dorn, Trevco, Lonely Whistle, Centaur, and at timreedmusic.com. If you go there, you will discover that Tim has a sense of humor. I was tempted to begin his biography with, "Tim Reed was born at an early age," but I had already used that opening in my own memoir, so I'll leave that out and let you enjoy Tim's whimsical sense of humor directly. On his web site, he provides the following intimate description of his life from birth:

"Tim Reed was born in May of 1976 weighing 11 pounds and 9 ounces. During the following fifteen years, his weight steadily increased, reaching approximately 170 pounds in 1991. Tim's height also increased during this time, reaching 6 feet and 4 inches in 1991. Between 1991 and 2007, his height remained steady at 6 feet and 4 inches while his weight fluctuated between 165 and 210 pounds. Tim is currently 6 feet and 4 inches in height and weighs 175 pounds (April 2011)."

By almost any standards, including his own, Liadov (also spelled Lyadov) would be considered a minor composer. He was notoriously lazy, and rarely tackled any project as demanding as an opera or a symphony. He never finished even the few such projects he had contemplated. For a while, he played the violin, then gave it up. He played the piano, but gave that up as well.

He was so aware of his chronic procrastination that on one occasion when he had been given an assignment to write a fugue, he told his sister, with whom he was living, not to give him dinner until the fugue was written. According to Shostakovich, who reports the story, dinner time rolled around, and the fugue was not written. "I won't feed you because you haven't completed the assignment. You asked me to do that yourself," said the sister. "Very well," said Liadov, "I'll dine with Auntie."

At the St. Petersburg Conservatory, his tardiness in completing assignments and his failure even to attend classes resulted in his expulsion by the director. Azanchevsky. When he asked the teacher whose class he had been skipping to intercede on his behalf, his plea was brusquely rejected. The teacher, Rimsky-Korsakov, later regretted the dismissal of a student he considered "talented past telling," and blamed himself for his bureaucratic inflexibility. Rimsky suspected that his own "inhuman regard for forms" was the result of his study of counterpoint!

Liadov was a dreamer, enchanted by the world of fantasy, and eager to escape the world around him, which he found to be "tedious, trying, purposeless, terrible." His best-known works, Kikimora, Baba-Yaga, The Enchanted Lake, and Eight Russian Folk Songs exemplify this love of fantasy, as well as his love of Russian folk music.

After his reinstatement at the Conservatory, his skill at orchestration became apparent, and his first orchestral work, The Bride of Messina, so impressed his professors that he was appointed professor of harmony and theory. One of Liadov's famous students, Sergei Prokofiev, reports that he was less interested in teaching than he was in pursuing his own interests. However, he was very active as conductor of the Musical Society, and championed the works of young Russian composers.

A Polonaise is a dance with three beats to the measure. It is of Polish origin, and the word is French for "Polish." It is doubtful that anyone actually danced to the typical polonaise. Several authroties suggest that it should be considered more of a processional. Niecks, in his book Chopin, says that "Strictly speaking, the Polonaise, which has been called a marche dansante, is not so much a dance as a figured walk, or procession, full of gravity and a certain courtly etiquette."

The choice by Liadov of the polonaise form (he wrote several) is typical of his interest in Slavic folk music. He was an important collector of folk music, which he incorporated into his attractive (and short) compositions.

In the summer of 1791, Mozart was commissioned to write the Requiem, which turned out to be his last composition. The circumstances of the commission, as well as the fact that Mozart died before completing it, have resulted in a virtual mythology binge. The film Amadeus capitalized on the conflicting reports and lack of scholarly skepticism to suggest that Mozart was poisoned by his rival, Salieri. There is no credible evidence that justifies that conclusion.

It is true that Mozart thought he was dying, and that the Requiem would be his own funeral music. It is true that Mozart thought he had been poisoned. It is true that he spoke of the "mysterious stranger" who was virtually stalking him. However, we now know who that mysterious stranger was, and why he was pestering Mozart.

Count Franz von Walsegg was an amateur musician who held weekly concerts on Tuesdays and Thursdays, where he and his friends performed music ostensibly written by the count, but actually commissioned from other composers, whom he paid very well for their work. In 1791, his wife, Anna, died at the age of twenty, and the count was devastated. He wanted to honor his young wife with a requiem, and wanted Mozart to compose it. To preserve his anonymity when commissioning composers to provide him with music he could pass off as his own, he sent an emissary to make the arrangements. That emissary was the "mysterious stranger."

Apparently, Mozart was resistant to the pleas, so the emissary kept pestering him until he agreed. The commission had come at a time when Mozart was otherwise occupied in writing two operas (La Clemenza di Tito, and Die Zauberflöte), plus a concerto for clarinet. During that period, Mozart had to be reminded repeatedlyt by the "mysterious stranger." In fact Mozart DIDN'T finish the work, though he had made copious notes, and had finished the orchestration for some bits of it.

When Mozart died in December of 1791, he left a debt-ridden wife with children. He had been paid a certain amount up front, as they say, with the balance to be paid upon completion. His wife and his assistant, who had worked with Mozart throughout the time he was fitfully putting his ideas for the Requiem on paper, decided to finish the work in order to collect the payment.Eventually, the assistant, Franz Xaver Süssmayr, admitted to having written a large part of the work. In fact, he claimed to have written a lot more than most analysys are willing to accept. Quite a number of versions of the Requiem exist with parts written by other composers, including Benjamin Britten, and, most recently in 1971, with a version by Franz Beyer. This latter versions is much admired by modern musicologists, but the Süssmayr version is the one most often performed.