Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy
Konzert für Violine und Orchester op. 64 e-Moll
Robert Schumann
Fantasie für Violine und Orchester op. 131 C-Dur
Max Bruch
Konzert für Violine und Orchester Nr. 1 op. 26 g-Moll
Benjamin Schmid, Violine ·
Daniel Raiskin, Dirigent
Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie
Benjamin Schmid is one of today’s most versatile and
exciting modern violinists. In addition to his career
as a classical violinist, he is also a successful and
in-demand jazz interpreter who regularly performs
with major jazz musicians like Biréli Lagrène and
Georg Breinschmid. It is all the more interesting
to hear recordings of two absolute standard violin
works – Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor
and Bruch’s Violin Concerto, op. 1 – from a violinist
with such a background. The program is rounded out
by a seldom-heard work: Robert Schumann’s Fantasie
op. 131, which the composer wrote at the request of
Joseph Joachim.
“Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome…
In the Rhine, in the holy stream…”
Heinrich Heine
The works on this CD were created on the
shores of the Rhine. Cologne, Düsseldorf,
Koblenz – these cities all bore witness
to the sketches and premieres of three violin
masterpieces.
Not by chance did Felix Mendelssohn-
Bartholdy once write in a letter that musical
notes have as specific a meaning as words
– possibly, he stressed, “even more specific”. It
would appear that music, which allows for an
incredibly varied number of interpretations
– every listener has their own point of view!
– is far, far from the specific nature of a word.
But amazingly Mendelssohn combined the
extremely high level of generalisation typical
of music with a flexible, light form that
is imbued with the musical idea. It did not
need any wordy explanation. Not undeservedly
Mendelssohn’s pieces, loved by millions,
carry the title Songs without Words. And so
Schumann’s concept of “speaking melody”
came to be adopted by critiques and literature
about music. Romantics, it could be said,
literally brought Beethoven’s testament to life:
“From the heart. May I penetrate to the heart
again.” (epigraph to Missa solemnis).
Musical Romanticism was born from the
Viennese classics. Is Mozart’s famous Symphony
in G minor not the first Romantic symphony?
We should recall how Mendelssohn’s
Violin Concerto in E minor, Op. 64 – like
Mozart’s Symphony in G minor – immediately,
with no orchestral introduction, begins
with the passionately perturbed main theme.
The secondary theme of the sonata allegro is
a bright image of a beautiful dream. The development
and progression of these themes,
filled with drama, can be compared with the
sudden appearance of a cloud of anxiousness,
only momentarily casting its shadow over the
light of the music. Before the reprise and the
coda decisively conclude the Allegro molto appassionato,
the sad notes can be detected in the
monologue cadenza of the solo violin. The
middle movement of the Concerto – Andante
– can be equated to the unfolding of an operatic
aria, full of touching, loving lyricism,
peace and happiness. And once again the echoes
of past troubles arise for an instant in the
brief introduction (Allegretto non troppo) – the
“bridge” to the final movement of the Concerto.
The finale – Allegro molto vivace – glitters
with joy and life, it seizes us with its energetic
rhythm and virtuoso sparkle.
The finest comment on the Violin Concerto
composed by Mendelssohn some years
before his death could be the very life of this
most harmonious composer and artist, referred
to as the “19th Century’s Mozart” by
Schumann who idolised him. A happy childhood,
a brilliant education at home – his
tutors were renowned pianist and composer
Ludwig Berger and outstanding teacher, composer
and Director of the Berlin Singakademie
Carl Friedrich Zelter… The young Felix
Mendelssohn was only twelve years old when
Zelter took him to the home of his great
friend Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Felix
played Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and his own
improvisations for the “sun of Weimar”, as
he called Goethe. When Mendelssohn visited
Goethe in Weimar ten years later and performed
for him every day at the poet’s request,
Goethe presented him with a page from the
manuscript of Faust with a touching dedication.
By the age of fifteen, Mendelssohn had
written many works in various genres and “in
the name of Mozart, in the name of Haydn,
in the name of old man Bach” Zelter initiated
Felix as an “apprentice”. Outstanding
composers and performers who appeared at
the Mendelssohns’ musical salon in Berlin
welcomed the young Felix as one of their
own. Soon the overture A Midsummer Night’s
Dream (1826) brought its sixteen-year-old
creator the laurels of immortality: the “apprentice”
was now a renowned master.
The typical image of a Romantic – a
revolutionary, an insurgent against authority
– had nothing in common with the twentyyear-
old (!) Mendelssohn, who imbued Bach’s
Matthäuspassion with new life. Or with the
grateful pupil who had sought out masses by
Allegri, Palestrina, Lotti or Pergolesi in archives
and libraries. Or with the conductor
who revived Händel’s oratorios in Europe’s
musical capitals, and who was the first to perform
Schubert’s Symphony in C, Die Grosse,
which had been found by Schumann. Or with
the organist whom Schumann publicly proclaimed
the incomparable heir of the Leipzig
cantor: “there can be no greater musical delight
than the perception of two-fold art – when one
genius embodies another.” Or with the honorary
citizen of Leipzig, the founder of the first
Conservatoire in Germany…
The passionate and unrestrained Romantic
Hector Berlioz even stated in a letter that
Mendelssohn “… loves the dead somewhat too
much”. Although it was, first and foremost,
Mendelssohn’s particular loyalty to the great
teachers, the ability to combine contemporary
trends with traditional norms – in a word, the
very harmoniousness of ideology that made
him a “Classicist” among the Romantics. However,
these traits also marked Mendelssohn’s
private life, his family, his relationships with
friends. Which allowed the composer’s friend
the singer and playwright Eduard Devrient to
speak of how Mendelssohn lived “the wonderful
life of a man who was truly happy and gave
happiness to others”.
In the summer of 1838, when Mendelssohn
was directing the Rhein Music Festival
in Cologne, he made the first sketches
for the Violin Concerto; work continued for
six years (1838–1844). The piece, which appears
to have taken shape in a single burst of
inspiration, took lengthy consideration; the
composer sought advice concerning the violin
solo from his friend Ferdinand David, an
outstanding performer and teacher and Professor
at the Leipzig Conservatoire. It was he
who performed the premiere of the Concerto
in Leipzig on 27 March 1845. The Gewandhausorchester
was conducted by Niels Gade.
In October, Ferdinand David performed the
Concerto once again in Leipzig, this time under
the composer. And on 10 November 1845
the Dresden premiere of the Concerto was
performed by the fourteen-year-old Joseph
Joachim, who had been recommended to
Mendelssohn by Schumann. After the premiere
Schumann wrote to his friend: “My
dear Mendelssohn! With all my heart I was
with you again when Joachim performed the
Violin Concerto; I cannot criticise such a work
after hearing it only once, but I can surrender
to it completely. Thus it seemed that an image
also intruded itself on my consciousness, which I
will not keep from you: Grace, which in a way
selflessly gives way to passionate outbursts, as if
it were a Muse…”
* * *
Eight years later Joachim, already a famed
virtuoso, instigated Schumann to compose
his Fantasy in C Major for Violin and Orchestra,
Op. 131. Sending Schumann the score of
Beethoven’s Violin Concerto, Joachim asked
Schumann to follow Beethoven’s example
to increase the meagre repertoire of concert
violinists, creating “inspired work for their
instrument…” (Letter from Joachim dated 2
June 1853.)
Schumann’s response was immediate.
Already on 2–5 September he had sketched
the Fantasy, and on 6–7 its instrumentation,
writing on 14 September to Joachim: “Writing
the Fantasy I thought of you most of all. I
am sending it together with this letter; it is my
first attempt. You must write me what may be
impractical in it. Please also mark out the bowings
in the arpeggios, and everywhere else, and
then please return me the score for a few days.”
Two weeks later, on 28 September Joachim
performed the Fantasy at Schumann‘s home in
Düsseldorf (three times in a row!) and on 27
October he rehearsed it with an orchestra for
the first time. The same evening, on 27 October
1853 the Düsseldorf Allgemeine Musikverein
saw the premiere of the Fantasy under
the baton of the composer. Sadly this was the
last concert conducted by Schumann – he was
struck down by a deadly illness which cast a
dark gloom over the composer’s last years. On
21 January 1854 Joachim performed the Fantasy
at the Concert Hall of the Hannover Hoftheater
(the programme also included Schumann’s
Symphony in D Minor; Clara Schumann performed
Beethoven’s Piano Concerto in E Flat
Major). Schumann heard Joachim and his beloved
wife for the last time!
In contrast to frequently repeated claims
that the Fantasy, Op. 131, alongside Schumann’s
other late works, bears the stamp of
the demise of his gift, it is a brilliant work in
concert genre. The Fantasy was the favourite
form into which Schumann poured the
fruits of his inspiration. The composer even
initially called his last symphony (the Fourth,
in D Minor) A Symphonic Fantasy. In this truly
Romantic form, Schumann was attracted
by the freedom of dealing with generally accepted
rules and norms.
The Violin Fantasy is based on three themes
that emerge in the introduction. The free
treatment of the sonata principle draws the
structure of the Fantasy closer to Schumann’s
frequently-met fusion of symmetrical threepart
form with rondo sonata. The musical
dramaturgy is constructed on the contrast
of the elegiac A Minor introduction and the
C Major, sharply rhythmed theme – a refrain
which imbues the entire composition. The
celebratory C Major that crowns the Fantasy
even allowed Schumann to write in a letter to
the publisher that the work “is very lively in
character”. Just like Mendelssohn, who was
no enthusiast of “piano acrobatics”, Schumann
had no inclination to write a “concerto
for virtuosi”. All the violin solos, and in particular
the well-developed cadenza preceding
the coda, are stamped with the mark of free
improvisation; the melismas and instrumental
“coloraturas” are natural and appear not as
decorative adornments, but as organically and
naturally flowing musical speech (apropos, to
satisfy certain virtuosi, Fritz Kreisler created a
free concert version of Schumann’s Fantasy).
* * *
The name of Max Bruch (1838–1920) does not
resound as loudly as those of Mendelssohn
or Schumann in the world of music. But his
Violin Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 26, occupies
a respectable position in the genealogy
of the great Romantic masterpieces.
Max Bruch was born in the same year that
Mendelssohn made the first sketches of his
Violin Concerto in E Minor. The premiere of
Bruch’s Concerto took place ten years after
Schumann’s death. One decade later, Brahm’s
famous Concerto for Violin and Orchestra
appeared. However, there is one other great
musician whose art united the aforementioned
violin concerti in a tradition unbroken
for a century. His name was Joseph Joachim.
On the title page of the score of Bruch’s Violin
Concerto there is an inscription: To Joseph
Joachim in Friendship.
The sketches for the Concerto in G Minor
date from 1857, when the nineteen-year-old
Bruch graduated from the Cologne Conservatoire,
where he had studied under Ferdinand
Hiller and Carl Reinecke. Aged twenty,
Bruch was already teaching musical theory at
the Conservatorie. Premieres of his operas,
oratorios, symphonies, instrumental concerti,
chamber works and vocal cycles followed
one after another… Bruch’s chorusal works
enjoy particular popularity in Germany. His
performing career progressed as successfully
as that of teaching. He conducted opera performances
and symphonic concerts in towns
throughout Germany and abroad. Max
Bruch’s students included representatives
of various national schools of composition,
such outstanding talents of the 20th century
as Italian Ottorino Respighi and Englishman
Ralph Vaughan Williams.
Interest in the national sources of music
and exotic cultures was a natural feature of
Romanticism. Bruch’s popular works include
Scottish Fantasy for violin and orchestra, the
Jewish melody Kol Nidrei for cello and orchestra,
arrangements of Russian and Swedish
songs and dances… Contemporaries
lavished praise on Bruch’s talent – a fervent
Romantic, a first-class and vivid melodist, a
genius of refined musical form, an erudite,
a brilliant professional. In 1893, the same
year as Tchaikovsky, Saint-Saëns, Grieg and
Boito, he was awarded the title of Honorary
Doctor of Music of Cambridge University.
The Concerto in G Minor was composed
over the years when Bruch was Kappellmeister
in Koblenz (1865–1867). In summer
1864 Bruch, planning the Concerto, turned
to old sketches. The premiere of the first version
of the Concerto in G Minor took place
under the baton of the composer on 24 April
1866 in Koblenz at the eighth (last) winter
concert of the Musikinstitut in the Assembly
hall of the Städtisches Gymnasium (in support
of the Protestantic Women’s Association).
The soloist at the premiere was Otto
von Königslöw.
However, the composer continued to
refine the work. The manuscript of the revised
Concerto was sent to Joseph Joachim
in the summer of 1866. While editing the
score Bruch took the advice of the great violinist
(to whom the Concerto is dedicated).
Joachim first performed the Concerto in its
final form on 7 January 1868 in Bremen. It
was soon performed in other cities and, starting
with Ferdinand David and Leopold Auer,
entered the repertoire of the world’s leading
violinists.
The Concerto has an unusual structure:
all the movements are in sonata form. The
low rumble of the kettledrums engenders
the introduction – the recitative of the violin
backed by the orchestra, reminiscent of
an epic tale of a rhapsodist. The rhythmically
elastic, passionate «takeoff» of the violin solo
and the broad, expressively intense melody –
both themes of the Allegro moderato develop
in a dialogue between the soloist and the orchestra,
in the passages at times lyrical and
elegiac, at times stormy and virtuoso dramatical.
The brief solo cadenza of the violin
(based on the introduction), interrupted by
the passionate voice of the orchestra, flows
into the second movement – the divine Adagio,
a true pearl which interweaves musical
images with a rare beauty. The tensely pulsating
rhythm of the introductory bars of
the Allegro energico anticipates the bold and
proud principal theme of the finale. In its
distinct, Hungarian character we can observe
a special “compliment” to Joseph Joachim
(years later Brahms would do the same with
his Violin Concerto). Hymnal features prevail
in the image of the second, broad pathetique
theme. The Concerto is crowned by an energetic,
glittering coda.
Iosif Raiskin
Translation: Michael Smith