From the Archives: The Hertz Era

The Symphony's recorded history begins in 1925, as the eminent German maestro Alfred Hertz (1872–1942) brought his orchestra into the recording studio for its first sessions. Hertz's 24 recordings with the San Francisco Symphony have been treasured collector's items for generations, until recently all but inaccessible. This episode brings the sound of the 1920s San Francisco Symphony back to life for modern listeners.

From the Archives: An Overview

The Symphony’s legacy on records is vast. This first episode provides an introductory overview of the whole. Along the way, we’ll learn about some of the challenges of assembling a complete collection of the Symphony’s surviving recordings, and explore the impact of evolving audio technology on the San Francisco Symphony.

Wagner's Götterdämmerung

Wagner, taking inspiration from Nordic mythology, wrote the Ring Cycle to tell the epic tale of the magical golden ring of the Nibelung.  Granting its owner the power to rule the world, the ring is coveted by many, including Wotan, the ruler of the Gods.  The saga of the ring is chronicled in four operas--Das Rheingold, Die Walküre, Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung. This final opera opens as morning dawns on the lovers Siegfried and Brünnhilde , continues to his betrayal of her in pursuit of the ring, and finally ends with Brünnhilde’s Immolation, when she casts herself on the fire of Siegfried’s funeral pyre to rid the ring of its curse and return it to the Rhine Maidens, its rightful owners.

Brahms's Piano Quartet (orch. Schoenberg)

Although his own compositional techniques are considered avant garde, Arnold Schoenberg viewed himself as a direct extension of the German tradition of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms.  He was 22 when Brahms died, and his particular affinity for Brahms’ Piano Quartet No. 1 led him to the task of orchestrating the work in 1937.  In a letter to the San Francisco Symphony’s program annotator, he stated his reasons: he liked it, it was seldom played, and he wanted to be able to hear all the parts.  He vowed to remain strictly within Brahms’ style and to use only elements he believed Brahms would have; the results are a work that is a co-authorship of peers.

Brahms's German Requiem

Although not a conventionally religious man, Johannes Brahms knew his Bible well and assembled the text for his German Requiem himself, choosing passages that suited his means perfectly. By titling it the German Requiem, Brahms meant that it was for the German people, in a language that they could understand—he also mentioned in his letters an alternate title of the Human Requiem.  Although technically a mass for the dead, the work does not mention death until the penultimate movement, and even then addresses the living with a sense of reassured faith rather than anxiety.

Schubert's "Death and the Maiden" (arr. Mahler)

Years before there was Photoshop, there was Gustav Mahler, and his infamous "retouchings" of respected scores to bring them up to modern listening standards. Known in his day more as a conductor than a composer, Mahler would make revisions to the music he was performing—an instrument added here, a note changed there—ideas that were not always popular with listeners. However, in the case of Schubert’s Quartet in D Minor, Death and the Maiden, a theme and variations on his lieder of the same name, the work definitely remains more Schubert’s. Mahler reinforced the bass line, changed double stops into rich string textures, and brought this intimate chamber work into the large concert hall. This podcast uses a recording of the original quartet, performed by SFS musicians Sarn Oliver and Amy Hiraga, violins; Nanci Severance, viola; and Peter Wyrick, cello.

Verdi's Requiem

In mid-nineteenth century Italy, Alessandro Manzoni, a poet and humanist, was one of the central figures in Italian cultural life.  Not only was he a great writer, but he had been elected to the first Senate of the new Kingdom of Italy in 1861. Upon his death, in 1873, the country entered a period of national mourning.  Giuseppe Verdi, having not yet written much of anything other than opera, volunteered his services to compose a Requiem mass.  He offered the public not a strictly liturgical work but a concert piece, and it was greeted with applause both at its premiere in Milan’s St. Marco Cathedral and at its second performance, three days later, at La Scala.