Program Notes

Johaness Brahms (1833-1897)

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D major, Op. 77

Scored for solo violin with pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets and bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani and strings

In 1877, while staying in the beautiful surroundings of the town of Pörtschach, Austria, Johaness Brahms was duly inspired to compose his famous second symphony. At the time he wrote that, “so many melodies fly about that one must be careful not to tread on them.” Seemingly content to continue their happy gliding through the idyllic town, the melodies that Brahms was unable to ensnare on his first visit were apparently more than adequate when he returned there the following year and completed his monumental masterpiece, the Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 77.

From the first, Brahms had in mind as the work’s dedicatee his good friend, the renowned violinist Joseph Joachim. As the weeks went on, though, Brahms expressed some dissatisfaction with the work’s original four movement form, and confessed to Joachim, “The middle movements are failures. I have written a feeble Adagio instead.” But Joachim, a fine composer himself, was sufficiently encouraging, and was able to make a number of suggestions concerning the solo part. The extent of Joachim’s involvement in the final product is not fully known, but the depth of Brahms’ admiration for the violinist was fully expressed when the composer left Joachim with a blank slate to create a cadenza for the first movement, and this cadenza is still used extensively today.

The work was premiered in the Leipzig Gewandhaus on the first day of the year 1879, with Joachim as soloist. The composer conducted, but arrived so late to the hall that he hadn’t time to change into his full formal attire, and led the concerto wearing his dreary gray street trousers.

Brahms’ Op. 77, stands alongside the works in the same genre by Mendelssohn, Bruch and Beethoven as one of the greatest violin concerti ever written. Brahms’ contribution shares the sense of happy contentment ever present in Beethoven’s work, and punctuates it with a great dramatic flair. Also like Beethoven’s concerto, there is a devastatingly powerful personality woven into the fiber of its being. The work succeeds in being a wholly remarkable showpiece for violin, yet the symphonic proportions of the orchestral part, at times effortlessly taking over the proceedings, gives one a feeling that the solo instrument could not be wholly successful without it. Yehudi Menhuin put it very aptly when he said, “Brahms’ concerto is soft clay to be moulded in performance, needing a conductor and orchestra of great talent to do it justice.”

The long orchestral exposition fulfils all of the requirements of classical concerto form by introducing us to the concerto’s musical motifs and preparing us for what is to come. It’s noble and majestic opening is balanced by music of great intensity, and by the time it reaches its dramatic peak more than a hundred bars later, it leaves us completely unprepared for the sudden burst that marks the entrance of the violin. The first utterance of the solo instrument is a minor key variation on the theme heard at the beginning of the movement. The violin then weaves its way lovingly, caressingly back to the major, and its first literal statement of the first theme. But, unable to contain its rapture, it begins to weave a tender, rhapsodic filigree around it, delicately enhancing the melodic material. The violin continues to dominate the proceedings in its outpouring of emotion in the succeeding themes. The development section is one of symphonic drama, and the recapitulation adds a feeling of almost theatrical passion to the exposition’s themes. After the cadenza, a beautifully lyrical violin line soon intensifies and leads to the orchestra’s emphatic close.

The winds dominate the opening bars of the ravishing second movement. Out of the initial opening chord emerges an enchanting melody played by a solo oboe. Max Bruch stated that this exquisite melody was actually derived from a Bohemian folk song. When the violin enters, it is as a cherished friend, elaborating in improvisatory rapture the mood that has been established. In the middle section, the music seems to turn more tragic, melancholy, with a deeply passionate yearning poured out in the violin with uninhibited desire. After a return to the movement’s initial beauty, a coda restores the winds to their original prominence.

The finale is in rondo form, and opens with a vivacious Hungarian dance introduced by the violin. As the music continues the violin and orchestra elaborate on the dance with ever-increasing enthusiasm. The music becomes by turns dramatic, wistful and lyrical and leads to a middle episode of extreme contrasts. But the opening dance is never far behind and its return is always eagerly anticipated. This time, the cadenza for this movement was provided by Brahms himself. The coda transforms the opening dance into a rollicking, pastoral romp, and leads the concerto to a cheerfully powerful conclusion.