Lamb & Hayward Masterworks: Ligeti, Harris, Artie Shaw, Dvořák

Programme Notes

Romanian Concerto (1951)

GYÖRGY LIGETI (1923–2006)

György Ligeti was one of the most revolutionary composers of the 20th century, known for his fearless exploration of sound, rhythm, and texture. Born in Transylvania in 1923, Ligeti’s early life was shaped by the complex and often harsh political landscape of Central Europe. He survived World War II and the oppressive regime of Soviet-controlled Hungary, experiences that profoundly influenced his music.

Ligeti first gained international recognition in the 1960s, with works like Atmosphères and Lux Aeterna, which showcased his groundbreaking use of sound masses—clusters of notes that blend into shimmering, otherworldly textures. These innovations found their way into popular culture, most famously in Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, where Ligeti’s music created an eerie, futuristic soundscape.

Before his radical experiments, Ligeti was deeply rooted in the folk traditions of Eastern Europe, as illustrated in his Romanian Concerto. Written in 1951, this work captures Ligeti’s love for the folk music of Romania, blending rustic melodies and energetic dances with an increasingly sophisticated harmonic language. At this point in his career, Ligeti was still navigating the political pressures of Communist Hungary, and this piece reflects a careful balance between accessible, folk-inspired music and the more daring elements that would come to define his later work.

Though Romanian Concerto is joyful and filled with folk-inspired vitality, it also hints at the composer’s future greatness. Ligeti’s genius lay in his ability to take familiar musical forms—whether folk music, as in this concerto, or classical structures—and transform them into something entirely new and arresting. His work continually pushed the boundaries of what music could be, blending the human and the cosmic, the traditional and the avant-garde.

Ultimately, Ligeti’s significance as a composer lies in his ability to transcend both time and place. Whether he was working with the simple folk tunes of Eastern Europe or the vast expanses of sonic possibility, Ligeti’s music invites us to experience sound in a completely new way—always surprising, always inventive, and always deeply human.

Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra (world premiere)

ROSS HARRIS (b. 1945)

Ross Harris is one of Aotearoa New Zealand’s most distinguished and versatile composers, with a body of work that spans symphonies, chamber music, opera, and vocal compositions. His music reflects a deep engagement with Aotearoa New Zealand’s cultural and natural landscapes, often drawing inspiration from historical, literary, and environmental sources. He has an uncanny ability to merge the influences of European modernism with a distinctly Kiwi voice, creating works that feel both globally connected and deeply rooted in local identity.

A hallmark of Harris’s work is his willingness to explore complex emotions and challenging subjects, often with a sense of poignancy. His collaborations with poet Vincent O’Sullivan have resulted in powerful song cycles and operatic works that deal with themes like war, memory, and the human condition. His symphonic works also show a preoccupation with form and texture, frequently using shimmering orchestral colors to evoke atmosphere and emotion.

Harris’s Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra, written for the renowned Julian Bliss, showcases his sophisticated approach to timbre and his fascination with the clarinet’s expressive potential. Throughout his career, Harris has received numerous accolades, including several SOUNZ Contemporary Awards, affirming his place as a vital voice in Aotearoa New Zealand’s music scene.

What makes Harris’s music particularly compelling is its unpredictability. He balances accessibility with a complexity that rewards repeated listening, and his works often evolve in surprising and inventive ways, leaving a lasting impression. Whether drawing from literary sources, history, or personal experience, Harris consistently crafts music that resonates deeply with audiences, both locally and internationally.

Harris says of this work:

"My Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra was written for the British virtuoso clarinet Julian Bliss in 2016. It was written in response to his incredible performance of my piece There may be light which had been commissioned by Chamber Music New Zealand to accompany Messiaen's Quartet for the End of Time. The Clarinet Concerto was commissioned by the iconic Christchurch based philanthropist Christopher Marshall. Christopher commissioned several of my pieces including the Violin Concerto which was written for Anthony Marwood, available on the Naxos label with Auckland Philharmonia and violinist Ilya Gringolts.

The Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra is in one movement encompassing a wide range of moods and colours. Sometimes it is dark and brooding and at other times wild and a bit crazy. I am very grateful for Julian and the CSO for taking on the challenge of this piece."

Concerto for Clarinet (1940)

ARTIE SHAW (1910–2004)

Artie Shaw was more than just a jazz clarinetist—he was a larger-than-life musical icon whose name became synonymous with the swing era of the 1930s and '40s. Shaw’s career, like his music, was a whirlwind of innovation and intensity. As a bandleader, clarinet virtuoso, and composer, Shaw constantly pushed the boundaries of jazz and classical music, blending them in ways that were ahead of his time. His Concerto for Clarinet, written in 1940, is one of his most famous works, showcasing his technical brilliance and his ability to infuse classical form with the infectious energy of swing.

Shaw wrote the Concerto for Clarinet, for himself to perform in the 1940 Fred Astaire movie Second Chorus, where his character’s virtuosity on the instrument is central to the plot. It’s packed with electrifying moments that highlight both Shaw’s improvisatory genius and dazzling agility on the clarinet. The concerto opens with a lyrical, sweeping melody, then quickly shifts into fast-paced, virtuosic passages.

What makes Shaw's Concerto for Clarinet, stand out is the way it straddles the line between classical and jazz. While it follows the form of a concerto—showcasing a solo instrument against an orchestral backdrop—it is driven by the rhythms, syncopation, and improvisatory feel of jazz. The vibrant, swinging orchestration paired with Shaw's unpredictable, thrilling clarinet solos make this piece a true crossover work, appealing to both classical audiences and jazz lovers alike.

Beyond this concerto, Artie Shaw’s influence on 20th-century music is immense. He was one of the first to integrate elements of classical music into big band arrangements and became one of the few bandleaders to write extended jazz works. Shaw’s artistic ambition sometimes clashed with the expectations of the commercial music world—he famously walked away from performing at the height of his career multiple times—but his contributions to both jazz and orchestral music endure.

In many ways, Shaw’s Concerto for Clarinet is a microcosm of his musical genius: technically astounding, irresistibly dynamic, and unapologetically original. It remains a staple of the clarinet repertoire, beloved not just for its historical significance but for its joyful, high-energy spirit.

Symphony No. 8 in G Major, Op. 88 (1889)

ANTONÍN DVOŘÀK (1841–1904)

Antonín Dvořák’s Symphony No. 8 is a work of joy and lyrical beauty, standing out for its optimism and vibrant use of Bohemian folk elements. Written in 1889, it serves as a celebration of nature and his Czech homeland - reflecting both his national pride and mastery of the symphonic form.

One of the more unusual aspects of Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony is its structural freedom. While most symphonies adhere to strict formal guidelines, Dvořák took a more organic approach, allowing the music to evolve with a natural flow. The first movement, for instance, does not follow the typical sonata form where themes are tightly developed and recapitulated. Instead, Dvořák introduces multiple themes and motives, transforming them with ease, much like a set of symphonic variations. This gives the music a sense of spontaneity, as if it’s unfolding in real-time rather than adhering to rigid conventions.

Another technical curiosity is Dvořák’s innovative use of key changes. The first movement opens in G Major but modulates unexpectedly to distant keys. At one point, Dvořák even shifts to E♭ Major, a key not closely related to G, creating a colourful harmonic landscape. These harmonic surprises add to the symphony’s charm and gives the sense of being taken on an unpredictable journey.

The third movement presents another unusual feature: instead of the traditional scherzo, Dvořák gives us a waltz-like dance. This movement’s trio section switches time signatures, moving from the expected triple meter to a lively duple meter. These rhythmic shifts show Dvořák’s mastery in blending elegance with folk elements, keeping the listener engaged with these rhythmic surprises.

The finale is technically intriguing for its theme-and-variations structure. This is not the typical form for the final movement of a symphony, where a dramatic, developmental structure is more common. Instead, Dvořák opts for a series of variations on a simple, folk-like theme. The way he weaves in changes in tempo, orchestration, and mood within the variations is a testament to his compositional ingenuity. One standout feature is the inclusion of a cadenza for the flute near the movement’s opening—a rarity in symphonic finales and an example of Dvořák’s playful defiance of expectations.

In addition to his creative handling of form and harmony, Dvořák’s orchestration is also a marvel. His use of the woodwinds is particularly colorful, treating them as solo voices within the texture. This gives the symphony a chamber-like quality in certain moments, where individual instruments are allowed to shine, lending a sense of intimacy amidst the grand orchestral scope.

Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony is not just a feast of melody and emotion, but also a technical tour de force. Its unconventional forms, harmonic detours, and inventive orchestration make it a standout in the symphonic repertoire, providing both a captivating listening experience and a rich study for musicians and scholars alike.