Mieczyslaw Weinberg: Flute Works
I can still clearly picture my first encounter with the music of Mieczyslaw Weinberg (1919-1996). I was sitting in my freshman year dorm room at Princeton in 2004, listening to a CD I had checked out of the music library. When Weinberg’s visceral, incisive music began playing, I was captivated. I immediately ran to the computer to see what was playing. I had never heard of Weinberg before. Soon, I was scouring the music library for every recording available of Weinberg’s works. (Spoiler alert: there weren’t many).
As few recordings as there were, fewer scores and even less biographical information were available. He was born a Polish Jew and grew up immersed in his father’s Yiddish musical theater. He fled his homeland on foot when the Nazis invaded, he lost his entire family. Several years later, he wound up in Moscow after catching the attention of Dmitri Shostakovich. They developed a lifelong friendship, frequently performing together and workshopping each other’s pieces. All of these elements—his Jewish heritage, the loss of his family, and his relationship with Shostakovich—are clearly reflected in his music.
Over the next year, I couldn’t shake my fascination with Weinberg. My thesis advisor suggested I spend a semester at the Moscow Conservatory. There, I would have greater access to the Russian art archives that house many of Weinberg’s scores and other materials. After many snowy trudges through Moscow, numerous bribes of obstinate librarians, and a lot of time in front of a dilapidated Soviet-era copy machine, I came home with my own treasure trove of musical scores, photographs, and other material about Weinberg’s life and work. I wrote my thesis about Weinberg’s covert use of Jewish folk music, hidden in plain sight to appease anti-Semitic Soviet arts authorities. Several years later, I had one of the most cathartic, full-circle moments of my life when I flew to Houston to see the United States premiere of Weinberg’s opera (and self-proclaimed magnum opus) The Passenger — with my fiancé playing in the orchestra.
Although I had collected the scores of many of Weinberg’s flute works, I didn’t perform his music publicly until 2023. Maia Jasper White knew about my interest in Weinberg; we worked toward a live performance of his Flute Concerto No. 1 (Op. 75) and Twelve Miniatures (Op. 29), both in new arrangements for flute and string quintet. The performance and accompanying conversation with the audience were exhilarating, particularly because the audience was as captivated by Weinberg’s music and life story as I am. Our shared enthusiasm led to this recording project. This album reflects my personal journey with Weinberg’s life and music.
Weinberg composed the Flute Concerto No. 1 and the Twelve Miniatures at very different times in his life. The Miniatures, a set of 12 pieces for flute and piano, were written at the end of 1945 in the wake of World War II. Weinberg was a relatively new transplant to Moscow living with Shostakovich. There is no record of a dedicatee or premiere performance. Weinberg revisited the Miniatures in 1983 when he created a version for flute and string orchestra (Opus 29bis). The Miniatures are technically and musically demanding, utilizing the entire range of the flute. The strings’ role is as prominent as the flute’s; several movements feature the strings almost exclusively. The first movement begins as an invocation in D-flat. Each subsequent movement rises a half step until the final “Pastorale” in C Major. The piece features Weinberg’s signature blend of chromaticism rooted in tonal harmony. Movements often end with surprising harmonic twists. The resulting piece is a kaleidoscopic set of short vignettes that fit together as a beautiful narrative whole.
By the time Weinberg composed the Flute Concerto No. 1 in 1961, his life in the Soviet Union had taken a number of turns. Despite having established himself as one of the most respected composers in the country, he still faced discrimination as an ethnic and religious minority. Between composing the Miniatures and this concerto, Weinberg’s father-in-law, a famous Jewish stage actor, was assassinated in the street. At the height of Josef Stalin’s paranoia, Weinberg himself was imprisoned for several months. Unlike the Miniatures, the Flute Concerto was dedicated to renowned Soviet flutist Aleksandr Korneyev. In 1961, Korneyev premiered the concerto in the Great Hall of the Moscow Conservatory with the Moscow Chamber Orchestra led by Rudolph Barshai. (I had the honor of working with Korneyev during my stint at the Moscow Conservatory almost 50 years later). Like the Miniatures, the concerto is an unrelentingly demanding piece for the flute. The first movement is a high-energy, klezmer-tinged romp featuring the flute almost exclusively in the highest register. The second movement is a haunting, lyrical elegy spun out by the flute on top of a passacaglia-like theme repeated by the strings. The third movement returns to a more folk-like idiom in triple meter that builds to an explosive ending.
Although Weinberg scored both works for flute and string orchestra, we are presenting them here in new versions for flute and string quintet. The scale of a chamber ensemble heightens the intimacy and nuance of these stunning compositions.I am so grateful to Salastina, and particularly Salastina’s co-directors Maia Jasper White and Kevin Kumar, for spearheading this project, believing in my vision for these pieces, and putting in countless hours of work to bring this album to fruition. I would also like to thank Ann Horton and Raulee Marcus, whose financial support made these recordings possible.