Popper (orch. Leonovich) - Popperiana Suite (Orchestra Score)
Popper (orch. Leonovich) - Popperiana Suite (Parts)
Known primarily for his etudes and a handful of dazzling showpieces for the cello, the Bohemian (now Czech) cellist-composer David Popper (1843–1913) enjoyed an illustrious career as both performer and composer. A celebrated virtuoso, he was one of the earliest champions of Robert Volkmann’s Cello Concerto and a key figure in establishing the cello as a modern solo instrument. Popper’s legacy has endured far beyond his lifetime: his High School of Cello Playing, Op. 73, remains the foundation of advanced cello pedagogy, while works such as the Tarantella, Op. 33, and Hungarian Rhapsody have become indispensable parts of the cello repertoire. His influence is felt not only through these popular works but also through his broader output, which reveals a composer of imagination, lyricism, and orchestral sensibility.
In recent decades, the advocacy of distinguished cellists such as János Starker and Antonio Meneses, along with their students, has brought renewed attention to Popper’s lesser-known music, encouraging performers and audiences alike to explore the richness of his style beyond the etudes and salon pieces. Yet despite his keen sense of orchestral color, Popper himself orchestrated relatively few of his own works. These include the five cello concertos, Im Walde, the early Tarantella for violin, Papillon, Gavotte No. 2, Elfentanz, and Requiem. Interestingly, the popular orchestrations of his Tarantella (Op. 33) and Hungarian Rhapsody were not his own but were prepared by Paul Gilson and Max Schlegel, respectively. Other contemporaries who orchestrated his music included Alexander Glazunov and Jacobus Oushoorn.
This is striking, since Popper’s piano accompaniments often sound highly orchestral. They suggest tuttis, imitations of winds and strings, and full ensemble textures. Yet, his actual orchestral scores are comparatively few. Often, the piano part hints at a complete orchestral sound while the cello either doubles or accompanies in an orchestral style. These lines could easily be omitted without changing the musical meaning, something Popper himself practiced even in his orchestrated works. For example, in the closing section of “Heimkehr” from Im Walde, certain passages in the solo and piano reduction do not appear in the orchestral cello line, revealing his flexible approach to texture and instrumentation.
There are a few compositions across musical history that bear the suffix “–ana,” such as Chopiniana and Paganiniana, each serving as an homage to a particular composer. Having recently orchestrated Popper’s Spanish Dances, I was inspired to continue exploring his music in orchestral form. Glazunov’s Chopiniana, a brilliant orchestral suite built from several Chopin piano works, suggested the model. My intention was to create something analogous for Popper: a Popperiana Suite that celebrates his style, spirit, and melodic invention.
For this suite, I selected five pieces that capture different facets of Popper’s artistry: Polonaise, Mazurka, Nocturne, Humoreske, and Tarantella. As in Glazunov’s work, the chosen pieces share the same titles (except for the Humoreske) yet represent the second examples of each type in Popper’s output. Though less frequently performed than their first counterparts, they are no less brilliant or inspired. Each movement is based on Popper’s first edition, and the solo cello part may therefore be considered Urtext.
The orchestration was conceived in the style of Popper, using an ensemble typical of his era and taste: 2 flutes (the second doubling piccolo), 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 French horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, triangle, and strings.
Polonaise (F major, Op. 28) – The second Concert-Polonaise, in F major, is the most festive of Popper’s three polonaises. Its brilliance and ceremonial grandeur recall the orchestral polonaises of Russian composers such as Tchaikovsky and Lyadov, with trumpet-like fanfares and rhythmic vitality.
Mazurka (D minor, Op. 12) – The second of Popper’s six mazurkas (excluding Reigen from Im Walde, which is also a mazurka) is the most serious and extended of the set. Interestingly, this Mazurka appeared in print slightly before the more famous Op. 11 piece. It features an arpeggiated figure that Popper must have favored, since it also appears in Spanischer Carneval (Op. 54) and Tarantella No. 2 (Op. 57). The presence of a unison passage, a rare technique in cello literature, adds further distinction.
Nocturne (B-flat major, Op. 32, No. 1) – The second Nocturne can be viewed as a kind of proto-Requiem, sharing similar rhythmic patterns, melodic contours, and harmonic motion. Its simplicity and inward poetry give it a reflective, almost sacred quality.
Humoreske (F major, Op. 11, No. 2) – The Humoreske, composed in the Schumann–Wagner vein, likely draws inspiration from the Scherzo of Schumann’s Second Symphony and from Wagner’s Liebestod. Julius Klengel may even have modeled his own Humoresque, Op. 5, for four cellos, after Popper’s example. This is the shortest and lightest movement of the Popperiana Suite. I took advantage of two spots where the soloist becomes part of the orchestra, being doubled by the winds. Several sections feature the cello in an accompanimental role, creating a chamber-music dialogue between soloist and ensemble.
Tarantella (D major, Op. 57) – The second Tarantella is more rarely performed than its famous G-major sibling, yet it is every bit as exciting. Other works in Popper’s output similar in spirit include Vito (Op. 54) and Jagdstück (Op. 55). This Tarantella has a broader formal and harmonic trajectory than the earlier one, traveling through G major, D-flat major, and A major, with a more grandiose ending than the G-major Tarantella.
It is my hope that Popper’s music will continue to be explored and performed with orchestra, allowing modern listeners to experience its full brilliance and expressive depth. Popper wrote for the cello with an extraordinary understanding of its voice, its lyric beauty, virtuosity, and warmth. Through Popperiana, I wish to honor that legacy and contribute to the revival of his orchestral sound world.