One of the greatest violin concerti of all time, this work was written for and premiered in 1806 by Franz Clement, one of the best-regarded violinists in Vienna. The concerto did not initially meet with much success, and was not often performed in Beethoven’s day. Later in the nineteenth century the concerto gained recognition as a truly sublime work. A key turning point was a concert given in London under the baton of none other than Felix Mendelssohn, with the young violin prodigy Joseph Joachim receiving critical acclaim and propelling the concerto to its rightful place as a masterpiece.
The concerto contains music of extraordinary power, beauty, and subtlety, and places substantial technical and musical demands on the soloist. The first movement contains three interwoven themes played first by the orchestra, repeated and embellished by the soloist. It begins in an unusual fashion with four solo timpani notes starting the opening theme; this four-note motif is played by strings, winds and percussion in over half of the bars in the first movement. A stirring orchestral introduction leads to a seemingly improvisational entrance by the solo violin. The themes are developed and expanded, with plenty of virtuosic violin passages. A calm G minor key interlude featuring bassoons and strings leads eventually to the recapitulation, solo cadenza and stirring end.
The second movement Larghetto is essentially a set of variations, featuring various sections of the orchestra and solo violin, on an 8-bar theme. It has a hymnal quality and contains some of the most ethereal music Beethoven ever wrote.
The final Rondo opens with an ebullient theme played by the soloist first in a low register, then in a very high register, before the orchestra joins in. The theme is repeated several times, with many variations and pyrotechnics by the soloist. It’s a joyous dance between orchestra and soloist, and ends with an uplifting flourish.
Brahms wrote this magnificent concerto in the four years leading up to 1881, at the height of his career. It is a massive work, symphonic in its proportions. It has four movements in all, adding a scherzo to the usual three movements, making it one of the longest Romantic piano concertos ever written. The relationship between the solo piano and orchestra is unique and varied. While the pianist often has towering solos, fiendishly difficult passages and cadenzas, in many places there are chamber-music like interactions between the pianist and the orchestra.
The concerto opens with a sunny, sonorous horn solo, echoed by the piano and winds; the piano breaks into a dramatic cadenza (akin to the opening of Beethoven’s “Emperor” piano concerto), after which the main theme is resoundingly taken up by the orchestra. A lyrical second theme is introduced by the orchestra, and then dramatically amplified by the piano. The main theme reappears in the horn in a minor key, and also heralds the sonorous recapitulation which eventually brings the movement to a close.
The second movement scherzo is anything but light-hearted. It has a tragic feel to it, punctuated by offbeats first in the lower strings and later on in the piano. A vigorous trio in the middle leads to passages of symphonic grandeur, before finding its way back to the opening theme.
After such a thunderous movement, the third movement, with its lyrical opening ‘cello solo, is a welcome respite of calm and serenity. The piano weaves delicate melodic wisps around a soft orchestral accompaniment, wandering into ever more-foreign sonorities, before the solo ‘cello solo gently guides everyone back to the main theme and key.
After the romantic fireworks and deep emotions of the first three movements, the last movement Allegretto grazioso presents a total contrast. It is lightly scored, with a delicate grace worthy of Mozart and Haydn. The main theme is almost childlike in its simplicity, tossed back and forth between soloist and orchestra. Three themes in the middle have a Hungarian or gypsy air about them. A sudden restatement of the main theme by the piano in fast 6/8 time ushers in the coda and triumphant conclusion of this superlative concerto.
The “Reformation” is one of Mendelssohn’s most programmatic works. As befits its title, the symphony’s first and last movements each contain elements of religious struggle and triumph. Though catalogued as Mendelssohn’s fifth symphony, it is actually his second “full” symphony, written in 1829-30, just three years after Beethoven’s death.
He originally composed his “church symphony” to be played at the 300th anniversary of the Augsburg Confession of 1530 (which defined the doctrines of the Lutheran Church). For various reasons, however, his new symphony was not chosen for that occasion. Mendelssohn then sought out other venues for it to be performed, and it was eventually performed in Berlin and played at a rehearsal in Paris. Unfortunately, it was not favorably received by critics or musicians, even after Mendelssohn made revisions to it in 1832. He finally “shelved” the symphony for the remainder of his life, refusing to let others see it, and even contemplated destroying it. The symphony was finally published in 1868, over 20 years after his untimely death. Since four other Mendelssohn symphonies had already been published, this one was presented as his “Fifth” Symphony. Since then, it has made its way into the standard symphonic repertoire, albeit in Mendelssohn’s “revised” 1832 version. The version we’re performing today is the original 1829 version, which notably includes a rarely-performed Recitative movement before the Finale.
While written in Mendelssohn’s unique style, the “Reformation” contains references to other composers, including Mozart (opening theme based on four-note “Jupiter Symphony” theme); Bach (fugal and counterpoint sections in the fourth movement); and most interestingly, Beethoven – in the choice of key (D minor/Major), the use of a recitative before the last movement, and a last movement based on a hymn or song (all possibly hearkening back to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony).
The first movement opens in an “antique” polyphonic style reminiscent of Catholic Church ceremony, interrupted increasingly by strident brasses and woodwinds (possibly showing the Catholic order being challenged by the new Protestant movement). At the end of the opening Andante, Mendelssohn has the strings softly playing the “Dresden Amen” — a rising six-note theme. The fiery Allegro which follows is full of musical struggle and combat, with violent string passages met with wind outbursts based on a two-note theme (also derived from the “Dresden Amen”).
Andante – Allegro con fuoco
by Felix Mendelssohn | The Broadway Bach Ensemble, Fall 2017
The second movement is a carefree scherzo, with a singing trio section featuring oboes and strings.
Allegro Vivace
by Felix Mendelssohn | The Broadway Bach Ensemble, Fall 2017
The intense third movement is an orchestral “song without words” featuring strings, oboes and bassoons, in turns introspective and impassioned.
Andante
by Felix Mendelssohn | The Broadway Bach Ensemble , Fall 2017
The Recitative, prominently featuring a solo flute and wind choirs, follows without a break. It leads directly into the choral finale based on the Lutheran hymn “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott” (A mighty fortress is our God). The opening chorale is introduced by solo flute and woodwind choir. Mendelssohn develops the movement into increasingly faster variations, complete with Bachian counterpoint in the strings. He overlays passages from the chorale in the middle of the movement, and uses it again in the coda as an exclamation point to end the symphony in dramatic fashion.
Andante con moto – Allegro vivace – Allegro maestoso
by Felix Mendelssohn | The Broadway Bach Ensemble, Fall 2017
Brahms composed his violin concerto in the last half 1878, close on the heels of his second symphony. He worked on it closely with the Hungarian violin virtuoso Joseph Joachim (in fact, Joachim also wrote the cadenza most often heard in contemporary performances).
While originally conceived in four movements, this concerto has three — an opening Allego non troppo, a middle movement Adagio, and the final Allegro giocoso. It is practically symphonic in scope, with alternating passages by the orchestra and soloist designed to fully explore the rich thematic material.
The first movement opens with a lengthy orchestral exposition which contains most of the thematic material used by both the soloist and orchestra — a calm rising and falling triad (faintly reminiscent of the second symphony); an intense rising chromatic passage played in unison; a mysterious and soft descending three-note pattern; and an agitated and jagged dotted-note passage setting up the first entrance of the solo violin. The violin picks up on these themes and expands them, both in fiery passagework and lush melodies. The lengthy cadenza is a masterwork by Joachim, a tour-de-force of virtuosity and melody.
The second movement Adagio begins with a hushed wind choir, featuring a notable oboe solo, which is echoed by the solo violin. After an impassioned development, the opening theme returns with a violin obbligato on top of the original wind theme. The last movement is a gypsy-like rondo, ending with the theme restated as a march.
Schumann composed this masterpiece for four French horns and orchestra in 1849, one of his most productive musical years. Rarely performed because of its unusual instrumentation and difficulty, the Konzertstück is rich in inventiveness and lyricism. While titled a “concertpiece,” it is essentially a concerto for four horn soloists.
There are three interlinked movements, played without a break. The initial “Lebhaft” opens with two strong orchestra chords, immediately followed by rising horn arpeggios heralding the main theme. The slow “Romanze” movement features a tender theme in the oboes, solo ‘cello and violas, picked up in turn by the horns; a flowing chorale movement appears in the middle of the movement. The lively last movement is full of horn figurations. It features brisk dialogue between the orchestra and soloists, and a short chorale interlude based on the middle movement, before drawing to a bravura ending.
A sunny, exciting and powerful masterpiece, this symphony is dedicated to the great Hans von Bülow in gratitude for that conductor’s championing of Dvořák’s orchestral works. Dvořák composed this symphony in just six weeks in 1875, at a fairly early stage in his musical life.
He had just applied for and received an Austrian Empire state grant; members of the judging committee awarding him the grant included his later mentor Johannes Brahms and the famed music critic Eduard Hanslick. Energized by the recognition, Dvořák embarked on a frenzy of composition, including a number of well-known chamber works as well as this symphony.
Although composed in 1875, it was only premiered in 1879 and published considerably later (1888), with a high opus number chosen by his music publisher. That said, this masterful symphony bears all of Dvořák’s hallmarks — rich lyricism, lush melodies, masterful development. The opening Allegro ma non troppo opens with a cheerful pastoral clarinet theme, taken up by winds and strings in turn; it is complemented by an introspective second theme introduced by the violins and oboe.
The slow second movement is soulful with a hint of melancholy, with sudden powerful outbursts from massed strings, winds and brass.
The lively third movement follows with almost no break. At first keeping the same mood of the slow movement, it transitions abruptly to a cheerful folk-like tune, with a lilting trio. The dramatic last movement opens with a powerful eruption from the lower strings, picked up in turn by winds and brass. Its harmonic tension is most unusual. It open in the key of A minor, and stays there for over 50 measures until the main theme makes its emphatic appearance in the main key of F major. A soaring second theme is introduced by the clarinet and second violin; both themes are developed extensively. The first movement theme reappears at the end, first in the high winds and horn, then stirringly in the trombone, before the symphony draws to its triumphant close.
Johannes Brahms wrote his Symphony No. 3 in F Major in 1883 at the age of 50. It is the shortest of his four symphonies, written six years after his Second Symphony, in D Major. During this period Brahms was anything but idle; in fact, these six years were some of the most prolific years in symphonic composition of his life. Masterworks like his Academic Festival Overture, Tragic Overture, Piano Concerto No. 2 and the Violin Concerto were all created in between his two middle symphonies.
Brahms’ orchestral forces for his symphonies are actually quite modest in comparison to the ones that are used in other romantic compositions from this period. In this F Major symphony, he uses 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons and 1 contrabassoon for the woodwind section. Besides the usual string section, the brass and percussion have 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones and timpani, and are used rather sparingly throughout the entire work.
Many people consider this symphony to be rather “pastoral,” given the key for the work and the two lovely and lyrical center movements; yet the outer movements provide insights that the symphony is anything but “tranquil.” The symphony’s first movement, for instance, is well known for its rhythmic juxtapositions. Written in 6/4, it is filled with syncopations, hemiolas and strong accents, which purposefully and successfully blur the bar lines and create illusions to the regular meter, leaving listeners with a sense of instability. At the same time, the key of the first movement constantly straddles between F Major and f minor. Both conflicts in rhythm and tonality don’t seem to settle until the end of the movement.
On the other hand, even though the last movement is seemingly more stable rhythmically, its tonality remains largely in f minor. Not until the last 43 bars of the work does it settle into the home key of F Major. Regardless of how listeners may perceive the moods of the work, the one thing that will give us the feeling of completion is that the opening theme in the first movement, first in f minor, returns at the very end of the fourth movement in F Major.
Sir Edward Elgar was a dominant force in English music at the turn of the 20th century. His magnificent ‘cello concerto was composed in 1919; more recently, it has become identified with the great ‘cellist Jacqueline du Pré, who made it into her signature piece (and is used in the movie Hilary and Jackie).
This four movement work displays an astonishing sweep of emotion and melody, from tragedy and pathos to exuberance. After a declamatory ‘cello opening, the first movement settles into an introspective lilt, punctuated by solo flourishes and dramatic orchestral statements. It is followed without a break by the witty second movement, with its brilliant solo passagework and lightly textured accompaniment. A romantic adagio allows the ‘cello to display its singing qualities to the fullest. The dramatic last movement is at times almost operatic, with the ‘cello and orchestra playing off each other’s themes; towards the end, themes from the adagio and opening movements make an encore appearance before a dash to the dramatic finish.
This is Dvořák’s last concerto, largely written in 1894-5 during his time in New York. Dvorak had come to the United States in 1892 in response to an invitation to become the head of the National Conservatory of Music in New York City, and stayed here until 1895. Dvorak composed a number of his best-know works during his American interlude, including his 9th (“New World”) Symphony, the “American” String Quartet (Op. 96), and the ‘cello concerto. He was not initially inclined to write a concerto featuring the ‘cello; he changed his mind after attending a concert in New York of a ‘cello concerto by Victor Herbert, which inspired him to write his own.
The first movement opens with a quiet statement of the theme in the woodwinds, gradually rising to a boisterous rendition by the full orchestra. The wistful second theme is introduced by the horn. Both themes are featured in the solo ‘cello, the first theme now reappearing as a heraldic restatement. There is a constant interweaving and interplay of soloist and orchestra, punctuated by solo pyrotechnics that grow out of the thematic material. A number of “grandioso” passages by the orchestra also feature the first theme in heroic fashion.
The introspective second movement begins softly with clarinets; the lyrical melody is picked up in turn by the soloist. The middle of the movement is based on a theme from a Czech song (“Leave me Alone”), written as an homage to his beloved sister-inlaw Josefina, who was in failing health. A solo cadenza is accompanied by flute and other woodwinds; a hushed passage featuring ‘cello harmonics brings the movement to a close.
The third movement is based on a robust theme introduced by the winds, then picked up by the soloist and orchestra in turn. The end of the movement also features another section of the song “Leave me Alone,” this time in the solo violin accompanying the ‘cello. The movement gradually winds down into a sighing whisper; a short rousing conclusion brings the concerto to a triumphant close.
This short overture and its accompanying march have an unusual history. The theme, first introduced by the piccolo, is based on a Chinese tune first noted by Jean-Jacques Rousseau in his Dictionnaire de Musique in 1768. Described as an “Air Chinois,” the tune was brought to France from China in the 18th century by a French missionary.
The Turandot story itself was derived from Central Asian/Persian sources; it involves a prince who travels to China, falls in love with the Emperor’s daughter, solves deadly riddles to win her, and (after much travail) weds her in the end. The story has been used by (among others) Carlo Gozzi, an Italian 18th-century playwright, and most famously, Puccini in his 20th century opera.
In 1804 the noted German author Schiller translated Gozzi’s text into German. For the 1809 premiere, Weber wrote an overture and six related pieces as incidental music, with a unifying theme based on the “Air Chinois.” The overture develops the basic theme by exploring different harmonic and orchestral combinations, and features all sections of the orchestra.
