Last week started slowly with Strauss and then went out of control. That was followed by a lengthy period of trying to reduce and clear up the mess. This week I have had writer’s block and need to remind myself that I am not attempting to write a history of music, even though a few background historical details might help. I have found the best way to start is to put in a heading – even just the date, and plonk some fingers down on the keyboard and then keep going.

At the moment I am juggling between Brahms, Chopin and Bartok, but have decided it can be Brahms’s turn. And then what? All the symphonies and all the concertos are giants in their way, as well as some beautiful reflective piano music (but I’ll leave that slot to Chopin), and other gems such as the Second Cello Sonata, the Horn Trio, Clarinet Trio and lots more. It’s time to stick the pin in the south end of the northbound donkey.

It is widely held that Brahms was the successor to Beethoven as a symphony writer, and there is some obvious sense in that, though the statement does not stand up to too much scrutiny. Brahms’s symphonies are powerful works but hardly have the revolutionary kick of the Eroica or Ninth of Beethoven. They follow Beethoven because they are impressive, lyrical and they have a grand concept which is generally weightier than the outpourings of Schumann and Mendelssohn & co. 

The same is true of the concertos. Brahms’s First Piano Concerto with its thunderous opening and subsequent melodically sublime second main theme, contrasts with the Second Concerto with its warm and reflective opening as if asking a question, with the piano involved in the opening skirmishes as is the case in Beethoven’s last two concertos. It is the towering weight of these symphonies and concertos which earn Brahms the title of ‘successor’, and the piano concertos are both physically and technically demanding for the soloist. His Violin Concerto does not have that sheer power – the violin cannot compete in the same way, but it remains one of the most significant violin concertos in the repertoire.

I am going to concentrate today on another of his great works:

Brahms: Double Concerto for Violin and Cello in A minor, Op. 102
One issue composers have to wrestle with when writing concertos with solo string instruments and large orchestras is balance. There only two Romantic cello concertos (Dvorak and Elgar), and I’m sure cellists will recoil at my not including Schumann, so I don’t mind saying three! OK, Walton (4), Britten Cello Symphony (5) … etc. A violinist doesn’t struggle quite as much to be heard, but it’s impossible for a cello to stand out unless the orchestration when the soloist plays is extremely light. Unique in the 19th century is Brahms with this Double Concerto, and I consider it to have as much stature as any of his great orchestral output.

As with his Second Piano Concerto and the final two of Beethoven, both soloists are involved in ‘opening skirmishes’ after the dramatic first few bars which indicate something powerful to follow. They each play separately and then together in conversation, effectively announcing themselves with cadenza-like writing, and then reinforcing each other in unison. This is all introduction before the orchestra takes over with the main business of delivering the first full section. You will notice the orchestra backing away when the soloists play but there remains an underlying feeling of power even when it is held back.

The second movement has one of those sweeping Brahms melodies and the solo instruments play it in unison. A central section jumps from D major to F major, and then it makes its way back for a return to the opening, modified and leading to a finishing off which takes fragmented ideas from both the main sections.

The finale is in an extended Rondo form – ie where the main section returns with different music interspersed. If the main section is ‘A’ then there is a loose structure of ABACABA. B and C act as episodes between the Rondo sections. As in other traditional forms which Brahms retained, but in a more expansive way than his predecessors, key is the structural anchor, with the Rondo theme always coming back in the key of the whole work, A minor or nearly! The final and closing ‘A’ section is one of the finest in the entire work. The music slows and the main theme is presented in an entirely different light – in A major rather than A minor, and with some touching and yearning exchanges between the oboe and horn as if birds were answering each other (owl more than blackbird). They end up briefly in unison together with the solo violin, ascending longingly before returning to the opening burst of energy, but staying in A major to the end.

Brahms’s music was often infused with Hungarian folk influences, and such is the case with the finale of this Double Concerto, not directly quoting but present.  The same applies to the finale of his Violin Concerto (and that of Max Bruch). He will have heard this Hungarian music as a young man in the taverns of Hamburg as well as from his recitals with the Hungarian violinist Eduard Remenyi. However, nothing was to have as profound an impact on Brahms’s writing for the violin as when he met the Hungarian violinist Joseph Joachim.  He introduced Brahms to his friend Schumann, and the two composers became close friends. Brahms continued this close friendship (+?) with Robert Schumann’s widow, Clara, for over twenty years after Schumann’s death.  Joachim acted as a mentor to Brahms, especially with regard to writing for the violin, and the Violin Concerto went through many improvements at the hand of Joachim before it was finally published, dedicated to Joachim and with his cadenza.  Joachim subsequently fell out with Brahms for many years, and it was the Double Concerto, also dedicated to and first performed by him, which brought them back together later in life. When Brahms moved to Vienna, capital of the Austro-Hungarian empire, he wrote his Hungarian Dances, based on folk rhythms with which he had become familiar. There is a recording on YouTube of Joachim playing Brahms’s Hungarian Dances in 1903!

I have looked on YouTube and was happy to find the recording played by Josef Suk and Andre Navarra with the Czech Philharmonic. I am hesitant to criticise other performances but in general I have some misgivings about the ‘Karajan’-ising of so much music into a thick, soupy, one-fits-all homogenised ‘sound’. It’s even worse with Beethoven and then worse again with Mozart (but has its place with Richard Strauss!). Josef Suk, great-grandson of Dvorak and grandson of Josef Suk the composer, was a very clean player.  I recommended his ‘Kreutzer Sonata’ recording in my first blog.  What the Czech Philharmonic, with their wonderful conductor Karel Ancerl, and these two solo performers bring to this music is a clear, honest and gutsy performance, fresh and bright with plenty of attack. It also has the Slavic touch which brings out the ‘Hungarian’ aspect to the music. 

There are other renowned performers of this work, but too often it’s difficult to get away from the common ‘sweepy’ sound when compared with this Czech performance. I have discovered that the Czech recording is complete on YouTube – not to watch unfortunately, but a good listen. I call it honest because, for me, it seems to connect with the composer’s intentions first and foremost.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIEnlY76jGA

I am not a great fan of radio programmes which pick apart and compare recordings to find a ‘best’ version. There is always room for different interpretations. However, against what I have just said I would point out something which I do appreciate in this Czech performance at 3’34” and 7’57” and that is the way that it waits for the tiniest moment before playing the new theme. Most performances plough on but this kind of detail is another aspect which singles this out from others. It’s minute but significant.  (I was once conducting Brahms’s Violin Concerto and went through it a few days earlier with the violin soloist. We discussed timing and pacing and I suggested that sometimes it was about a 10th of a second between poise and having no shape. ‘No’, the soloist said, ’it’s 100th of a second’.)

At a time when Liszt and Wagner were leading music into new territory, Brahms and Joachim, after some initial approval, published a paper dissociating themselves from it. This was a miscalculation on Brahms’s part and generated more heat than light. They need not have been in competition; Brahms had no thoughts about writing opera and Wagner was far too busy writing the largest and longest work ever conceived. Brahms was for some regarded as a stiff and austere reactionary. With the passing of time it is easier to admire him for his warmth and flowing lyricism, as well as his power and prowess as an orchestral giant with his own inspiring ideas. 

I asked my former tutor at university, Philip Radcliffe, a Brahms scholar and specialist, to write a short essay on him when I first conducted the German Requiem in 1983.  There are many funny stories I could tell about Philip, easily mimicked physically and verbally, and a true eccentric as well as being forever kind and warm-hearted.

The conclusion to his essay on Brahms can be mine too: “It may not achieve the grandeur of Bruckner, the mercurial impulsiveness of Dvorak, or the highly-strung eloquence of Tchaikovsky, but it has qualities of its own that, to those in sympathy with them, can never lose their appeal.”

I agree with him.

I hope you are all keeping well and best wishes again to everyone.  I am glad to hear that some of you are passing these blogs on to friends.  Maybe when we return (some way to go yet) you could invite them to be Friends of our choirs.

Richard

Footnote 1
I have also found on Spotify the extremely fine recording of Rudolf Kempe conducting the Berlin Philharmonic in Brahms’s First Symphony.  It is an outstanding interpretation and performance.

Footnote 2
I wish I had discovered this last week but there two excerts from Strauss’s Rosenkavalier on YouTube which you should hear.   The first is sung by Anneliese Rothenberger as Sophie with Sena Jurinac and Octavian.  The second has Lucia Popp as Sophie and Brigitte Fassbaender.  Really worth a watch and liste.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3nmm5l0-Ys

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vuYNilYrF3Q