Program Notes

Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943)

Concerto for Piano and Orchestra No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 30 (1909)

Scored for solo piano, pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets and bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion and strings

“I am weary of America and I have had more than enough of it. Just imagine: to concertize almost every day for three months! I have played my own compositions exclusively. I was a great success and was recalled to give encores as many as seven times. This was a great deal, considering the audiences there. The audiences are remarkably cold, spoiled by the guest performances of first-class artists. Those audiences always seek extraordinary, something different from the last guest soloist. Their newspapers always remark on how many times the artist was recalled to take a bow, and for the large public this is the yardstick of your talent, if you please.”

Although Sergei Rachmaninoff eventually settled in the United States, his first impressions during his 1909 concert tour were anything but glowing. By this time he was a world-famous composer and pianist who was in constant demand. Since the thing he prized above all else was simply time to write music, he turned many of these offers down. But among these was a chance to tour America. Rachmaninoff, not being crazy about Americans wavered, but in the end it was too lucrative to refuse. The final deciding factor, though, was the opportunity to premier a brand new piano concerto with the New York Symphony under the baton of Walter Damrosch.

Excited at the prospect, the composer began work on the concerto in June of 1909, and working like a madman, completed it in September. The reason for the hectic pace was the fact that Rachmaninoff was scheduled to depart for the New World in October. He was scheduled to play it himself at the work's first performance, but there was a slight problem. He had managed to finish the concerto, but he hadn't yet learned the piano part. His solution was to bring along a dummy piano and practice in his stateroom during the journey. Surely this would seem a daunting task, even for the most gifted musicians, but the Russian genius managed to pull it off. Even with concert dates filling up his schedule, he was ready when the world premier took place on November 28, and was repeated on November 30.

The work was performed for a third time on January 16, 1910, under the direction of the great symphonist and conductor Gustav Mahler. It was the first time Rachmaninoff had met Mahler, and his comments were glowing:

“He touched my composer's heart straight away by devoting himself to my concerto until the accompaniment, which is rather complicated, had been practiced to the point of perfection, although he had already gone through a long rehearsal. According to Mahler, every detail of the score was important – an attitude which is unfortunately rare amongst conductors.”

The composition was met with the same kind of praise that had accompanied the Second Piano Concerto. The work contains the kind of fire, beauty and brilliance that had come to be expected of Rachmaninoff. It makes the same kind of demands on the soloist by stretching pianistic ability to the breaking point, but is not as immediately overwhelming as its predecessor. The listener can be assured of being overwhelmed as the music progresses, but here the composer relies on a more subtle approach to structure and the a masterful blending of piano and orchestra.

The orchestra begins the first movement with two bars of wavering dotted rhythms, and the piano intones with both hands in unison the famous first theme. Although not immortalized in popular song like so many themes from Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto, this beautiful melody is perfectly suited to such a purpose. After its introduction by the piano, it is taken up by strings in unison while the piano decorates it with thrilling running ornamentation. The ornamentation soon takes over and becomes a transition, while small snippets of the theme to come are heard on horn and clarinets, then on trumpet and oboes, and the transition eventually winds down to a stop. After the pause, a variant of the opening theme leads to a march-like passage, which is alternated between piano and orchestra, and when the piano finally takes center stage once more the new theme, equally as beautiful as the first, is finally heard in its entirety. The development section begins with the first theme heard at the opening, but soon moves through a series of variations and keys, accelerating and increasing in intensity. Soon the fury abates and heralds the arrival of the cadenza. The composer actually wrote two and is known to have played both in his own performances of the work. After the cadenza the fireworks are less abundant and the movement ends rather quietly.

Following the brilliance, the second movement is filled with profound sadness and melancholy. The orchestra is the first to take up the lament, and the opening music leads the way, through an impassioned sigh, to the piano's own anguished statement. The sadness only deepens as the piano bewails its grief in ever growing fervency. There is a brief respite as the piano takes up a passage of considerable agitation, but the sorrow prevails. Rachmaninoff, refusing to be comforted, denies any resolution to the sorrow he has created, and instead introduces a sudden change of mood which explodes with unexpected force directly into the finale.

The third movement packs a mighty one-two punch as the lyrical and the brilliant are contrasted once again. Stirring rhythmic vitality and overwhelming virtuosity threaten to leave the listener behind in a blaze of musical gestures. In this movement it is easy to hear the difficulties of which Rachmaninoff spoke concerning the complicated orchestral accompaniment. The piano is the star and at times, almost seems oblivious to the orchestra, though it is never really a separate entity except when the orchestra is completely silent. The middle of the movement is more passionately romantic and the final burst of energy and closing chords nearly pull the audience to its feet.