Program Notes

Edvard Grieg (1867-1916)

Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in A Minor, Op. 16 (1868)

Scored for solo piano with pairs of flutes, clarinets, oboes and bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani and strings

 

Throughout history there have been many instances of works, since accepted as masterpieces, which were poorly received by critics and the public. One may wonder at shortsightedness in such matters, and may even be able to accept confusion over a work that was really different, unlike anything that had come before it. But perhaps the most baffling circumstance concerns the only piano concerto of Edvard Grieg. Written in 1868, when the composer was 25, it was widely regarded by critics as a cheap imitation of Schumann’s concerto from which it, admittedly, borrows its overall form.

Perhaps the concerto does seem a little hapdash in its construction, and perhaps it doesn’t really break new ground in vastly significant ways, but how could anyone possibly even notice these things when listening to this magnificent music? It is the spirit of Norway, and the heart and soul of the composer himself. Grieg’s good friend, the composer and pianist Percy Grainger gave us the most intimately accurate portrait of Grieg’s work on record, which also perfectly sums up the concerto. He said, “The general human tendencies of the active, heroic, poetic, excitably emotional Norwegian race from which he sprang all seemed to be faithfully portrayed in … his own compositions, as were, no less, the characteristics of the hillscapes and fjordscapes of his native land; for the brilliant coloring and striking clarity of the scenes, the almost indescribable exhilaration of the Northern atmosphere, all seem mirrored in his music.”

Probably the most encouraging and most meaningful endorsement of the work, though, came from Franz Liszt when the great man had a chance to play through the manuscript when Grieg visited him in Rome. According to Grieg himself, “ [Liszt] handed me the manuscript, and said, in a peculiarly cordial tone: ‘Keep steadily on; I tell you, you have the capability, and – do not let them intimidate you.’”

History has, of course agreed with Liszt. The A Minor Piano Concerto of Edvarg Grieg has become one of the most famous, well-loved, often-recorded and often-performed pieces of music by any composer in any genre. Moments of tender delicacy and poetic beauty are balanced by passages of sheer power and overwhelming drama. The rhythms are crisp and lively, the melodies fresh and innovative and the whole is imbued with a radiant Nordic splendor.

In the first movement, a powerful timpani roll introduces the piano’s magnificent flourish. The first theme is an engaging march that alternates freely from major to minor key, and gives the impression of being both charming and dramatic. A more agitated section follows which carries the music to the lovely second theme on the cellos. The piano takes up the theme with serene tranquility, but soon the music builds to a climax culminating in a mighty orchestral fanfare related to the movement’s opening flourish, which also ushers in the development section. Once the fanfare has passed, the first theme is treated to delightful variation in a dialogue between the piano, flute and horn. The music reaches a climax once more, but soon winds down and back to a restatement of the first theme in the piano. The music is recapitulated, and the orchestral fanfare is transformed into a thrilling stage setter, ushering in one if the most beautiful, stirring and dramatically intense cadenzas in the repertoire. Rolling arpeggios, breathtaking runs and stormy tremolos slowly build to electrifying heights, and finally, gracefully, the music brings itself back to majestic quietude. When the cadenza is over the orchestra enters cautiously, almost tentatively, but soon its confidence grows and the piano steps in and ends the movements with the same flourish with which it began.

The second movement is touching and lovely, as a pastoral song in the orchestra ushers in the first statement by the piano, which builds to a sudden climax, then comes to a sudden stop. The piano’s statement is repeated a minor third higher, and this time the climax leads to music of passionate poignancy, in which the piano takes up the orchestra’s opening song. The movement ends in poetic beauty.

The main theme of the finale is a sparkling Norwegian dance in the minor key. The music becomes more agitated, passionate and builds to mighty proportions before giving way to an orchestral fanfare which brings the section to a halt. The second section is introduced by a lovely flute melody, taken up by the soloist in tranquil elaboration, and ending in heart-stirring loveliness. An orchestral call to attention re-introduces the piano’s main theme, and a recapitulation of the first section of the movement. Another brief piano cadenza leads us into a sprightly, joyful variation of the movement’s opening dance theme, this time in the major key. As the music intensifies, the orchestra takes up the movement’s second theme, to end the concerto with a dazzling flourish.