Concerto Guide: Dvořák, Cello Concerto in B minor, op. 104

I have been looking around for a good concerto from the 1880s, but haven't run across one, so if a reader has a suggestion, leave it in the comments. I might pop back and take up the Brahms Double Concerto, composed in 1887. So I am jumping to the 1890s, 1895 to be precise, when Dvořák completed his Cello Concerto. This was certainly not the first cello concerto as Vivaldi alone wrote a couple of dozen, C. P. E. Bach wrote a few, Haydn a couple, Boccherini (himself a cello virtuoso) wrote another dozen and there are isolated examples by Tartini and Stamitz. But it is safe to say that before the Dvořák concerto none of these had achieved any widespread popularity.

Dvořák himself was reluctant to compose a concerto for cello for a long time because of concerns about its viability as a solo instrument against a full orchestra. Bear in mind that all the previous concertos for solo cello were for fairly small orchestra, not the large romantic orchestra that Dvořák wrote for. He may have finally been convinced by hearing a couple of performances of a cello concerto written by Victor Herbert in New York where Dvořák was directing the National Conservatory. In any case, he took up the task and delivered the first great cello concerto that established the genre and prompted many other composers in the 20th century to write concertos for the cello.

The piece is substantial, about the same length as the Beethoven Violin Concerto. It follows the usual fast-slow-fast three movement form. Dvořák follows the example of Beethoven and Brahms in giving a full orchestral tutti before the soloist enters. The orchestra gets to present all the main themes, which the cello then re-presents. If not well-written, this might feel redundant, but the cello part is so resonant and richly ornamented that it is not a problem. Indeed, you might start to think that the typical romantic ploy of giving a big bombastic opening to the solo instrument as we have seen in Grieg, Tchaikovsky and others, is just a bit gimmicky.

Here is the first theme, vaguely folk-like sounding because of the lowered 7th degree, given to the clarinet in A:

And here is how the cello presents that same theme (bass clef):

Here is a lyric theme first given to the horns:

And here is how the cello handles that theme (beginning in bass clef):

I won't go picking apart the rest of this lovely concerto. As is usual with Dvořák the themes are song-like and memorable. There is an inherent lyricism in this concerto, even though the cello part is very virtuosic with some very high registers and some difficult double-stopping.

Here is a great performance by Jacqueline du Pré, the uniquely talented cellist whose career ended tragically young, at age 28, when she contracted multiple sclerosis.

The Symphony Guide on Dvořák’s New World Symphony

It's Tuesday so we continue our look at the ongoing (and soon to end) series in the Guardian on the 50 greatest symphonies. Today Tom Service takes a look at Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9, "From the New World". I just listened to all of his symphonies a week or so ago and posted about them here. As you can see, doing so resulted in me downgrading Dvořák somewhat from my previous, long-standing, high estimation. His first four symphonies are blaring monstrosities that gave me a headache. His later ones are charming and melodic lightweights. But let's have a look at Tom's article. Here is the heart of it:

With its community of themes that appear throughout the symphony (in one brilliant place in the finale, Dvořák seamlessly combines tunes from the slow movement, the scherzo third movement, and the finale), Dvořák extends principles that he knew from Beethoven, Brahms, and Schumann. But as well as the traditional ways of hearing Dvořák’s 9th – either as an American evocation or a late-romantic triumph of thematic cycles and integration – there are others, too. The music plays with memory, both in the way that melodies from the first movement, say, return in every successive movement, but also with a larger idea of reminiscence, nostalgia, and something darker. That slow movement(which starts with those surreal, sublime brass chords, music that returns with visionary power, in a completely different, dramatic context near the end of the finale) isn’t as simple as an unforgettable tune and a series of contrasting rustic episodes. For me, that music sounds more and more like a lament, a keening.

This is one of the better essays in the series as Tom sets out to correct the misimpressions about the source and nature of the inspiration for the melodies in the piece and gives a fairly accurate summation of it. Of course, Dvořák was just one of the first generation of nationalist symphony composers in the late-19th century to break with the stylistic traditions of the German and Austrian mainstream. I sometimes wonder if some of the great appeal of Dvořák, especially here in the New World, is not simply the titles attached to pieces like the "New World" Symphony and the "American" String Quartet. Perhaps he should also have written a "Manhattan" Quintet?

But the "New World" is a lovely piece and it has the kinds of tunes you can go away humming. Let's have a listen. This is Karajan and the Vienna Phillies: