The Three-Cornered Hat

Suite No.2:

The Neighbours’ Dance

The Miller’s Dance

Final Dance

Diaghilev had long wanted a score from Manuel de Falla for a Spanish ballet project he had in mind for the Ballets Russes. Falla had for just as long resisted him. In 1913, however, he had discussed with the impresario a scenario based on Alarcón’s story “The Three-Cornered Hat” (El Sombrero de tres picos) - which, although Falla was probably unaware of it, had already been used as the basis of Hugo Wolf’s comic opera Der Corregidor. But, war having intervened, nothing came of these discussions and Falla felt free to write a different kind of stage work, a mime play called “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife” (El corregidor y la molinera), based on the same subject.

In 1917, however, Diaghilev was in Madrid with his choreographer Léonide Massine, who was keenly interested in Spanish folk dance at the time, and the two of them attempted to persuade Falla to allow them to use the “Nights in the Gardens of Spain” as a ballet score. In his reluctance to consent to that idea, the composer agreed to adapt “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife,” which they had just been to see at the Teatro Eslava in Madrid, in such a way as to make it suitable for performance by the Ballets Russes. The new ballet, now called “The Three-Cornered Hat,” was first performed at the Alhambra Theatre in London in July 1919 with choreography by Massine and set and costume designs by no less an artist than Pablo Picasso.

The second of the two concert suites Falla later drew from the ballet score begins with a Midsummer Night’s celebration: the Miller’s neighbours are performing a seguidilla, a comparatively languorous dance based here on an Andalusian gypsy song which Falla develops in the most atmospheric of orchestral colours. A late addition to the score, The Miller’s Dance was written in London in less than twenty-four hours to give the principal dancer, Massine himself, a high-profile solo. A farruca introduced by a virile horn call and featuring passages of vigorous heel-stamping in alternation with repetitions of a nostalgic oboe melody, it is probably the most vividly flamenco episode in the whole ballet. The Final Dance - which after much confusion of mistaken identities ends with the corrupt old Magistrate being tossed in a blanket by the joyful villagers - is a brilliantly orchestrated riot of Spanish melody and exhilarating jota dance rhythms.

Suite No.2:

The Neighbours’ Dance

The Miller’s Dance

Final Dance

Diaghilev had long wanted a score from Manuel de Falla for a Spanish ballet project he had in mind for the Ballets Russes. Falla had for just as long resisted him. In 1913, however, he had discussed with the impresario a scenario based on Alarcón’s story “The Three-Cornered Hat” - which, although Falla was probably unaware of it, had already been used as the basis of Hugo Wolf’s comic opera Der Corregidor. But, war having intervened, nothing came of these discussions and Falla felt free to write a different kind of stage work, a mime play called “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife” (El corregidor y la molinera), based on the same subject.

In 1917, however, Diaghilev was in Madrid with his choreographer or    them attempted to persuade Falla to allow them to use the “Nights in the Gardens of Spain” as a ballet score. In his reluctance to consent to that idea, the composer agreed to adapt “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife,” which they had just been to see at the Teatro Eslava in Madrid, in such a way as to make it suitable for performance by the Ballets Russes. The new ballet, now called El Sombrero de tres picos or The Three-Cornered Hat, was first performed at the Alhambra Theatre in London in July 1919 with choreography by Massine and set and costume designs by no less an artist than Pablo Picasso.

The second of the two concert suites Falla later drew from the ballet score begins with a Midsummer Night’s celebration: the Miller’s neighbours are performing a seguidilla, a comparatively languorous dance based here on an Andalusian gypsy song which Falla develops in the most atmospheric of orchestral colours. A late addition to the score, The Miller’s Dance was written in London in less than twenty-four hours to give the principal dancer, Massine himself, a high-profile solo. A farruca introduced by a virile horn call and featuring passages of vigorous heel-stamping in alternation with repetitions of a nostalgic oboe melody, it is probably the most vividly flamenco episode in the whole ballet. The Final Dance – which after much confusion of mistaken identities ends with the corrupt old Magistrate being tossed in a blanket by the joyful villagers – is a brilliantly orchestrated riot of Spanish melody and exhilarating jota dance rhythms.

Suite No.1:

Introduction - Afternoon -

Dance of the Miller’s Wife -

The Corregidor - The Miller’s Wife -

The Grapes

Suite No.2:

The Neighbours’ Dance

The Miller’s Dance

Final Dance

Diaghilev had long wanted a score from Manuel de Falla for a Spanish ballet project he had in mind for the Ballets Russes. Falla had for just as long resisted him. In 1913, however, he had discussed with the impresario a scenario based on Alarcon’s story “The Three-Cornered Hat” (El Sombrero de tres picos) - which, although Falla was probably unaware of it, had already been used as the basis of Hugo Wolf’s comic opera Der Corregidor. But, the War having intervened, nothing came of these discussions and Falla felt free to write a different kind of stage work, a mime play called “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife” (El corregidor y la molinera), based on the same subject.

In 1917, however, Diaghilev was in Madrid with his choreographer Léonide Massine, who was keenly interested in Spanish folk dance at the time, and the two of them attempted to persuade Falla to allow them to use the “Nights in the Gardens of Spain” as a ballet score. In his reluctance to consent to that idea, the composer agreed to adapt “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife,” which they had just been to see at the Teatro Eslava in Madrid, in such a way as to make it suitable for performance by the Ballets Russes. The new ballet, now called “The Three-Cornered Hat,” was first performed at the Alhambra Theatre in London in July 1919 with choreography by Massine and set and costume designs by no less an artist than Pablo Picasso.

The work involved in writing extra dances and rewriting the original score for large orchestra was extensive and it wasn’t finished until the very last minute. The introduction to the ballet was written during the rehearsal period in London so that the audience would have chance to admire Picasso’s bull-ring curtain design. The opening fanfare came in useful also as the Introduction to the first of the two concert suites Falla later compiled from the ballet score. It is followed without a break by music from the first scene of the ballet, Afternoon, which introduces the Miller with a broodingly sombre sort of dance, a murciana low on clarinet and cor anglais, and the Miller’s Wife with the beginning of a contrastingly bright jota high on first violins. The Corregidor, the pompous old Magistrate with the three-cornered hand and lustful designs on the Miller’s Wife, also makes his first entry here in a briefly comic bassoon solo.

The Dance of the Miller’s Wife, an exuberantly orchestrated fandango characteristically combining high energy with sensual grace, is not calculated to dampen the Magistrate’s ardour. He registers his reaction in another comic little bassoon solo and the Miller’s Wife gently mocks him with an old-style minuet. In the next scene, The Grapes, which also follows without a break, she teases him with the fruit she is picking from the vine outside the mill and leads him a dance in which, inevitably, he trips and falls to the ground. He leaves, much discomfited, and the Miller joins his Wife in a reprise of the fandango from the previous movement.

The second suite begins with a Midsummer Night’s celebration: the Miller’s neighbours are performing a seguidilla, a comparatively languorous dance based here on an Andalusian gypsy song which Falla develops in the most atmospheric of orchestral colours. The Miller’s Dance, another later addition to the score, was written in London in less than twenty-four hours to give the principal dancer, Massine himself, a high-profile solo. A farruca introduced by a virile horn call and featuring passages of vigorous heel-stamping in alternation with repetitions of a nostalgic oboe melody, it is probably the most vividly flamenco episode in the whole ballet. The Final Dance - which after much confusion of mistaken identities ends with the corrupt old Magistrate being tossed in a blanket by the joyful villagers - is a brilliantly orchestrated riot of Spanish melody and exhilarating jota dance rhythms.

Part 1

Introduction -

Afternoon -

Dance of the Miller’s Wife -

The Grapes

Part 2:

Night: the Neighbours’ Dance

The Miller’s Dance -

The Magistrate’s Dance -

Final Dance

Diaghilev had long wanted a score from Manuel de Falla for a Spanish ballet project he had in mind for the Ballets Russes. Falla had for just as long resisted him. In 1913, however, they had had discussions about a possible scenario based on Alarcon’s story “The Three-Cornered Hat” (El Sombrero de tres picos) - which, although Falla was probably unaware of it, had already been used as the basis of Hugo Wolf’s comic opera Der Corregidor. But, the War having intervened, nothing came of these discussions and Falla felt free to write a different kind of stage work, a mime play called “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife” (El corregidor y la molinera), based on the same subject.

In 1917, however, Diaghilev was in Madrid with his choreographer Léonide Massine, who was keenly interested in Spanish folk dance at the time, and the two of them attempted to persuade Falla to allow them to use the “Nights in the Gardens of Spain” as a ballet score. In his reluctance to consent to that idea, the composer agreed to adapt “The Magistrate and the Miller’s Wife,” which they had just been to see at the Teatro Eslava, in such a way as to make it suitable for performance by the Ballets Russes. The work involved in providing extra dances and rewriting the original score for large orchestra was extensive and was still unfinished when the rehearsals had begun. Even so, the first performance of the new ballet, now called “The Three-Cornered Hat,” did take place as scheduled, at the Alhambra Theatre in London on 22 July 1919. With authentically inspired choreography by Massine and set and costume designs by no less an artist than Pablo Picasso, it was one of the greatest of all Ballets Russes successes

Introduction

The opening fanfare - for timpani, trumpet and horns distinctively coloured by castanets, hand claps and cries of “Olé!” - was written during the rehearsal period in London to give the audience a few minutes in which to admire Picasso’s magnificent bull-ring curtain design. It includes a tuneful and timely little warning sung by a solo soprano from the wings:

Casadita, casadita, Little wife, little wife

cierra con tranca la puerta; barricade the door;

Que aunque el diable este dormido even if the devil is asleep

a lo mejor se despierta! he will catch you out!

Afternoon

The curtain rises on a scene set outside a mill at two o’clock on a warm afternoon in Andalusia. The Miller, who is immediately identified as coming from Murcia by the sultry murciana heard in the orchestra, is attempting to teach his pet blackbird to tell the time. To his anger, the bird utters three piccolo squawks and then four. It is only when the Miller’s Wife offers a grape as a reward that the bird gets it right. She, we are informed by a graceful hint of a jota on violins, comes from Navarre. They embrace and dance together in their delight at their success with the blackbird before the Miller goes to fetch water from the well which, as we hear, has an intolerably squeaky pulley.

The rest of this eventful episode introduces other members of the community who pass by the mill. Although neither the Miller nor his Wife is above flirting with their neighbours, and in spite of the jealousy this arouses, they clearly trust each other. There is a more serious threat, however, from the local Magistrate in the three-cornered-hat who, though old and fat and pompous, is dangerous because of the office he holds. He is distinctively characterised by a short but unmistakably clumsy bassoon solo. The Miller’s Wife imitates him in a mischievous dance on pizzicato violins and piano, to the evident amusement of the giggling woodwind, and then - pretending she is unaware of his presence - puts on a full-scale flamenco show for him…

Dance of the Miller’s Wife

The dance she chooses is a vigorous and sexy fandango resounding with authentic local colour translated into orchestral terms - magnified guitar figurations on strings and piano, clattering castanet sounds on xylophone and heightened vocalisations on woodwind. Irresistibly rhythmic throughout and seductively melodious in the middle section, it is too much for the Magistrate to bear. He makes his advance on her by way of another clumsy little bassoon solo. Her reply is an exquisitely turned minuet which firmly, though very gracefully, puts him in his place as a survivor from a previous era…

The Grapes

Not be put off, the Magistrate allows himself to be teased by a game in which the Miller’s Wife provocatively dangles a bunch of grapes in front of him while he gives chase and, just at the point where he seems to be getting near her, falls flat on his back. Groaning horns and grotesque rising glissandos on the cellos suggest his pained efforts to get up. He is not at all mollified by the not very gentle efforts of the Miller and his Wife to dust him down and goes off in anger, to their great amusement. They express their joy in a particularly boisterous horn tune before she resumes the fandango the Magistrate had interrupted in the previous section.

Night: the Neighbours’ Dance

The second part of the ballet takes place by the mill on a starlit Midsummer Night. The Miller’s neighbours are celebrating the occasion by dancing a languorous seguidilla based on two tunes: the more prominent of them is an alborea, a traditional gypsy wedding song, introduced by unhurried violins in the opening bars; the other, briefly presented by flute and bassoon in octaves, is a borrowing from a zarzuela by Jeronimo Jimenez, La Boda de Luis Alonso, which was brought to Falla’s attention by Diaghilev himself.

The Miller’s Dance

Massine, who was not only the original choreographer of The Three-Cornered Hat but also the first Miller, seems to have decided at a very late stage that he needed a high-profile solo at this point. Certainly, the music for The Miller’s Dance was written in London and in less than twenty-four hours. Paradoxically, as well as being one of the most picturesque episodes in the ballet, it is probably the most vividly flamenco in style. A farruca introduced by a macho horn call and a brooding cor anglais cadenza, it is a virile display of asymmetrically rhythmic heel-stamping on double-stopped strings and brass alternating with brief snatches of plaintive melody on oboe and horn. The Miller scarcely has time to draw breath and receive the congratulations of his friends before Fate knocks on the door to the tune of the opening bars of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony on muted horns. The Magistrate has sent his policemen with a warrant for the Miller’s arrest. They march in and take him off as the neighbours melt away, leaving the Miller’s wife by herself. Another song from the wings reflects her feelings of loneliness and vulnerability.

Por la noche cante el cuco The cuckoo sings at night

Advirtiendos a los casados reminding all husbands

que corran bien los corrojos to barricade their doors

que el diable està develado for the devil is always vigilant

Por la noche canta el cuco The cuckoo sings at night

Cuco! Cuco! Cuco!Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

To a last echo of the seguidilla the Miller’s Wife goes inside and the cuckoo-clock strikes twelve, evoking an immediate if subdued response from the blackbird…

The Magistrate’s Dance

This, of course, is the moment for the Magistrate to make another attempt on the virtue of the Miller’s Wife and he duly reappears, once again identifying himself by means of a clumsy bassoon solo. Still on the bridge leading to the mill he dances a minuet, a peculiarly Spanish one coloured by castanets, coping with it not ungracefully until - as signalled by a tumbling bassoon figure, a trumpet call and a howling horn - he falls in the millstream. The Miller’s Wife comes to find what is going on and the Magistrate, soaked as he is, renews his attack. But nothing he can do - no protestation of love, no appeal to her better nature in his sorry state, no threat even - succeeds in moving her before she takes fright and runs away. Shivering with cold, he takes off his uniform, puts on the Miller’s clothes and gets into his bed. The Miller in the meantime has escaped from prison and, seeing the Magistrate in the conjugal bed, fears the worst. He puts on the Magistrate’s clothes and chalking a message on the wall for all to see - “Mr Magistrate I am seeking vengeance. You too have a beautiful wife” - sets off on his mission…

Final Dance

At this point, as the panic-stricken Magistrate reads the message, the policemen return to re-arrest the Miller and, seeing the Magistrate dressed in the Miller’s clothes, make the inevitable mistake - causing a confusion which become even more farcical when the Miller comes back in the Magistrate’s clothes. The policemen, the neighbours and the Miller’s Wife all get involved in the struggle. By now, however, the jota, the lively dance on which the final scene is based, has begun, the melody proclaimed by high-energy violins and woodwind accompanied by a strident trumpet counterpoint and heavy rhythms in the rest of the orchestra. This main theme is heard three times in all, while the intervening episodes sort out the confusion, reconciling the Miller and his Wife and punishing the Magistrate, who ends up being tossed in a blanket. There is no better example of sustained rhythmic exuberance linked with picturesque narrative in any Diaghilev ballet finale.

Gerald Larner©