Welcome to another episode of "In Your Home" with the Erie Philharmonic.

I'm Daniel Meyer, music director of the Philharmonic, and it is my pleasure to introduce you to some of the most fascinating pieces ever written by Russian composers.

Whether they chose to remain in Russia or make their careers elsewhere, there seems to be a thread that binds Russian composers over the centuries, and I hope you'll hear some of those connections as we go along.

Let's start with arguably the greatest of all Russian composers, Tchaikovsky.

In 1880, Tchaikovsky wrote to his friend, Nadezhda von Meck, that he had just completed an overture to honor Czar Alexander II.

In describing this piece to her, he said, "The overture will be very loud and noisy, but I wrote it without any warm feelings of love, and so it will probably be of no artistic worth."

Not exactly a ringing endorsement of his own composition.

That overture, by the way, was his now famous "1812 Overture", which you're likely to hear virtually every Independence Day here in the United States, if your celebration involves an orchestra concert.

But Tchaikovsky went on to describe another piece that he was writing at the very same time as the "1812 Overture".

He said, "The serenade, on the contrary, I wrote from inner compulsion.

This is a piece from the heart, and so I venture to say, it does not lack artistic worth."

Well, I believe this next piece far exceeds Tchaikovsky's modest estimation.

It's one of the most beautiful and brilliant works for string orchestra that we have.

Its four movements are filled with invention, memorable melodies, and a rhythmic vitality that leaps off the stage.

So, let's begin our program with the second movement of Tchaikovsky's "Serenade for Strings".

It's titled "Waltz".

Igor Stravinsky was already a world famous composer when he wrote the next music you're about to hear.

In order to conquer the musical world as a young man, Stravinsky left Russia, and took up residence in Paris.

There he wrote his three most famous ballets, "The Firebird", "Petrushka", and "The Rite of Spring", under the tutelage of impresario, Serge Diaghilev, and his Ballets Russes.

In the 1920s, Stravinsky had the opportunity to play the role of mentor when he met and started to work with another Russian expat who took up residence in Paris, a young choreographer by the name of George Balanchine.

Together, they crafted a ballet on the Greek god Apollo, the god of music, among other things, and were well on their way to a long, fruitful collaborative relationship.

Stravinsky's music from the '20s is urbane, clear-textured, and in some cases, velvety.

It's also backwards-looking in the sense that it uses forms and gestures you might associate with Baroque or Classical era music.

But let's not forget how jazz was all the rage in the '20s as well.

So, when you hear this music Stravinsky wrote for "Apollo", you'll understand how exciting it must've been for Balanchine to develop a whole new language in ballet, fusing his ideas of how to meld classical Russian ballet tradition with the fresh spirit and sophistication of the Jazz Age.

Let's listen to the last three movements from Stravinsky's ballet, first danced in 1928, titled "Apollo".

Sergei Prokofiev stands as one of the most famous composers to emerge from the Soviet era.

Unfortunately, in 1949, when Prokofiev wrote his cello sonata, most of his music had been banned from the concert stage.

Prokofiev was accused of formalism, and he wrote this work not knowing if it would ever see the light of day.

It probably helped that the two musicians slated to perform the sonata were none other than cellist Mstislav Rostropovich and pianist Sviatoslav Richter, two of the giants of the 20th century.

This second movement of Prokofiev's cello sonata features some of that dry wit, in combination with moody introspection, that makes his music so alluring.

It begins carefree, with crisp notes from the piano, and plucked notes in the cello.

Then the music turns on a dime, and sings with an earnest tenderness.

In other words, predictably unpredictable Prokofiev.

We now feature our own principal cello, Erica Snowden-Rodriguez, together with pianist Nathan Hess, in a performance of the second movement of Prokofiev's cello sonata.

Lera Auerbach was born in Chelyabinsk in 1973.

She is an extraordinarily multifaceted artist, with accomplishments as a painter, sculptor, poet, and concert pianist.

Today she's best known as a composer, and we are about to perform three movements from her string symphony, titled "Memoria de la luz".

In 1991, Auerbach received permission from the Soviet government to take a concert tour of the United States.

It was on this tour that she decided to defect so that she could study in New York at the Manhattan School of Music as well as the Juilliard School.

She continues to make her home in New York, but she is in demand around the world for her colorful and daring music.

The first movement you're about to hear is titled "Dialogo extatico".

The violins are playing high, sliding figures, while the violas, cellos, and basses drive a vibrant melody, marked molto espressivo.

The energy revs high, and the entire orchestra then plays short, steely notes that usher in the fifth movement, marked "Tragico".

The music is so forceful that it may remind you of the passion of a grand tango, but marked with the agitation of a tragic scene.

The sixth movement is titled "Epilogo".

It begins distorted.

Auerbach marks in the score that the notes are to be played painfully.

This pain is ultimately relieved in a chorale of floating notes, a mystical and mysterious ending to this captivating piece.

Alexander Borodin was born in St. Petersburg in 1833.

He studied at the Medical Surgical Academy, specializing in chemistry, and he earned a doctorate in 1858.

He became a distinguished researcher, and was even named a full professor at the academy.

His fame among chemists comes from his work on aldehydes.

So, why on Earth are we talking about him on this program?

Well, Borodin was also a composer in his spare time.

He wrote chamber music, symphonies, and even a full-length opera that is still performed to this day.

Borodin lives in that rarefied group of composers whose day job paid the bills and whose hobby brought him immortality.

You're about to hear the famous nocturne from his "String Quartet No.

2".

If you're a fan of classic Broadway musicals, the main tune may sound familiar to you.

This melody was borrowed from Borodin's nocturne to become the song "And This is My Beloved" from "Kismet".

Here is that famous nocturne from Borodin's second string quartet, with Emily Cornelius and Jonathan Moser, violins, Esther Nam, viola, and Erica Snowden-Rodriguez playing cello.

Well, we've come full circle in our program, returning to the music of Tchaikovsky and his "Serenade for Strings".

We started our concert with a sophisticated Viennese-style waltz that you would've heard in any number of ballrooms across Europe in the 19th century.

Now we've come to the fourth movement of the "Serenade for Strings".

The beginning of this finale is still, as if the sun is just beginning to peek above a frozen landscape.

But don't let that fool you.

This music quickly leaps into a full-blooded Russian theme, where the action is fast, unrelenting, virtuosic, and boisterous.

Here's the finale of Tchaikovsky's "Serenade for Strings".

Thank you so much for joining us.

We hope you've enjoyed listening to some of the wonderful music Russian composers have created for the strings.

Let me take this opportunity to thank our friends across Northwestern Pennsylvania and beyond for your support, and thanks to Edinboro University and our partners here at WQLN PBS.

We can't wait to see you again for another performance of the Erie Philharmonic.