PROGRAM NOTES SPONSORED BY THOMAS WARD

Like many other Renaissance artists, English composer and lutenist John Dowland (1563-1626) is a mysterious figure of Western European music, given the scant records detailing his life. For instance, his birth year (1563) is conjecture. And while he likely had a wife and children who stayed in England while he worked in Denmark, very little is known about them. In general, he appeared to fare better abroad than in his home country; several obstacles (perhaps including his conversion to Roman Catholicism at age 17) prevented him from ever attaining an appointment at Elizabeth’s Protestant court. Could this persistent rejection at home have been part of the reason that Dowland’s motto was Semper Dowland semper Dolens (“Always Dowland, always mourning”)?

It is worth pointing out, however, that “melancholie” in Tudor England was not only used to describe general sadness, but also considered a vital ingredient of artistic inspiration. This might explain why Dowland wrote so many pieces that feature the four-note descending “tear” motif popular at the time. These include his set of seven pavanes (processional dances) entitled Lachrimae, or Seaven Teares, in 1604. In this work Dowland sets out to explore different characterizations of tears. For example, one pavane is named Lachrimæ Antiquæ (Ancient Tears, performed this evening); another is called Lachrimæ Amantis (Tears of Love). The final work of the set is Lachrimae Verae (True Tears). Like almost all the other pavanes, it foregrounds the short descending motif while placing it in counterpoint to the remaining voices of the ensemble in a slow dance that blends, as Dowland himself puts it, “grave with light.”

How is one supposed to listen to the music of a nobleman who killed both his wife and her lover in the midst of an affair in late 16th-century Italy? Many have located a darkness – madness, even – within the dramatic intervallic jumps and dissonant sonorities of Carlo Gesualdo’s (1566-1613) many vocal works. Others largely disregard this part of his biography as a sort of explanation for the composer’s dramatic use of stark contrasts – whether these be in tempo, harmony, or texture – which paint clearer pictures of the words he set with his music. Those in this latter category attribute the often jarring nature of many of his works to the atmosphere of experimentation which characterized the court in Ferrara, where he met his second wife and spent several years following the homicides in 1590. (Because Gesualdo was a nobleman, the double murder of his wife and her lover was considered an “honor” killing, and he was exonerated.)

Regardless of one’s personal opinion on the most appropriate way to interpret Gesualdo’s music – if there is one – most music scholars agree that his work creates disquiet by virtue of abrupt character changes. Take, for instance, one small section of the Tenebrae Responsoria for Maundy Thursday being performed today. “Tristis est anima mea” (1611) is intended to depict the words and thoughts of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane just hours before his crucifixion. It abruptly juxtaposes a fast, florid setting for vos fugam capietis (“ye shall take flight”) with a resigned, trudging tempo for the following words et ego vadam immolari pro vobis (“and I shall go to be offered up for you”). Gesualdo provocatively captures the emotional volatility one might expect of Jesus in the hours before his death. This emotional intensity characterizes much of the rest of the responsory and easily creates the atmosphere of a dark, lonely night for the listener. Perhaps it also provides a window into some of the composer’s own dark, lonely nights. At this point in time, Gesualdo would have had two whole decades to reflect on his crime of passion.


A note from James Wilson:

One of the most unique figures in classical music, Edward Elgar (1857-1934) grew up in a musical family. His father sold sheet music, musical instruments, and tuned pianos. Because of this, young Edward learned to play the piano and almost every orchestral instrument. He was a self-taught composer who learned his craft through years of hard, often frustrating, and stressful “gig” work. The fact that he was a Catholic in an Anglican society added to his outsider status, and Elgar struggled throughout his life with depression, frequently questioning his own worth and abilities.

The genesis of the Variations on an Original Theme came from an evening at home when, after improvising a melody, the composer entertained his wife by making up versions of the theme as caricatures of their friends. This concept of musical disguise provides the “Enigma” of the piece, with each variation serving as a musical sketch of someone within his inner circle. This became the breakout work for Elgar, bringing him fame and attention within the art-music world and stamping his reputation as an authentic English voice in classical music. From the outset, the variations have frustrated and mystified critics and fans alike. Elgar dedicated the work “to my friends pictured within” but originally provided no information other than the cryptic initials titling each variation. In his program for the 1899 premiere, Elgar wrote:

“The Enigma. And I warn you that the apparent connection between the Variations and the Theme is often of the slightest texture; further, through and over the whole set, another and larger theme ‘goes’ but is not played.”

Elgar eventually revealed the identities of his friends and many of the symbolic meanings behind the piece. He wrote that the theme expressed “my sense of the loneliness of the artist.”

However, several mysteries remain unexplained. Theories regarding the unplayed melodic theme range from Auld Lang Syne to Rule, Britannia! There is also a programmatic theme about which Elgar wrote: “I will not explain – its ‘dark saying’ must be left unguessed.” Yet, apart from its secrets, the variations can be heard as an epic tale charting an emotional evolution from loneliness and isolation to triumph and joy – all achieved with the help of the composer’s friends “depicted within.”

Like all cellists, I developed a deep bond with the musical language of Edward Elgar through the study of his highly personal Cello Concerto in E minor. The Enigma Variations has been an important piece in my life, and I often listen to it during periods of sadness or stress. I find its imaginative spirit energizing and uplifting, and it became an important musical touchpoint for me during the dark years of 2020–2022. The impetus for this reorchestration came from a concert program I designed as a tribute to Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, in which the Enigma Variations formed a companion piece to Coleridge-Taylor’s Nonet. The idea of resizing Elgar’s massive orchestration down to just ten players became irresistible. I hope that the tight circle of musicians performing this arrangement mirrors the work’s overall theme of friendship and intimacy.

Like Elgar, I see a definite “dark saying” in this music but prefer that it remain unexplained. I also recognize the traits of some of my own friends and family in these movements, and in the spirit of the original piece, I have retitled the variations with cryptic initials of my own.

You can enjoy listening to the piece purely on its own. However, if you would like to see the identities of my enigmatic variations, you can view that listing below. As a final nod to Elgar, I lovingly dedicate this arrangement to “my family and friends pictured within.”

© Emily Masincup and James Wilson, 2026


Codex to Variations on an Original Theme by Edward Elgar, arranged by James Wilson

Theme

Variation 1. “J.H.W”
James Wilson.

Variation 2. “A.A.”
Anne Archer, a violinist and chamber music enthusiast. The dueling violins and serious bassline are reminiscent of her beloved Beethoven quartets.

Variation 3. “N.C & E.C.”
Nina and Edmund Conway. The music represents the couple’s wit and humor, while the low bassoon solos suggest Ned's storytelling style.

Variation 4. “M. W.”
Mike Wray. This energetic variation captures the boundless, brusque energy of Mike and his pet dogs.

Variation 5. “C.R. & P.R.”
Claudia and Paul Russell. The music recalls a hike in the Blue Ridge Mountains with shared laughter mixed with darker family history.

Variation 6. “P.M.”
Phyllis McCafferty. Viola solos and woodwind flourishes mirror Phyllis’ alto singing voice and warm chuckle.

Variation 7. “T.P & J.P”
Tricia and Jack Pearsall. This variation represents the couple’s adventurous travels, the rapids of the James River, and the traffic on the Manchester Bridge visible from their Richmond home.

Variation 8. “L.W.C.”
Lois Wilson Crabtree. The music is full of kindness and warmth, balanced by moments of autumnal seriousness.

Variation 9. “C.S.”
Carsten Schmidt. The serious, contemplative nature of the music evokes the sacred works of Bach that Carsten has conducted and performed.

Variation 10. “M.B.”
Mary Boodell. The music recalls warm summer nights following concerts at the Interlochen Music Camp and the Staunton Music Festival.

Variation 11. “L. & S.”
Louis and Sammy, Wilson’s cats. The heroic music pictures the hunting, leaping, and fast scurrying of these two beloved pets.

Variation 12. “G.B.W.”
George Balch Wilson. The continuous elegiac melody in this variation evokes the music of two of his idols, Sergei Rachmaninoff and Frank Sinatra.

Variation 13 “J.W. & B.W., & a.l.s.”
Brian and Jane Wilson. Their gentle, supportive characters can be heard in the dialogue between clarinet and flute. The mysterious clarinet solo quotes Auld Lang Syne, honoring memories of family and loved ones who have passed away in recent years.

Finale. “E.E”
Edward Elgar. Edward Elgar. Driven by non-stop energy and optimism, this variation transforms the forlorn Theme into an emphatic confirmation of life.