Saturday 24th March 2012
Review of this concert by Philip Worth:
For some sixty years now a controversy has raged as the whether the theme tune of Brahms’ Variations on a Theme by Haydn was, in fact, by Haydn. Musical cognoscenti have debated endlessly on all sides of the issue and different theories have sprouted like mushrooms in a field on a damp September morning. Your reviewer is not equipped, technically, to enter into this debate but he is entitled to suggest that this elegant composition is, as a whole, unmistakably by Brahms. I recall hearing this music for the first time on the ‘wireless’ over sixty years ago and being struck then by its unique blending of classical purity and intense lyricism. Anyway, it was good to hear the DSO smoothly getting on with the job, far away from the babble of the musical chattering classes.
In the 1790s this country took Haydn – already secure in his European reputation as its most celebrated composer – to its heart. There was a positive love affair in progress between London and the great classical master. Britons hungered after everything that he could produce and Haydn, for his part, was never happier than when in London, feted and lionized by the music loving public. His first visit – an unqualified success – took place between 1791 and 1792 and it wasn’t long before he was pressed to come again. Come again he did and so keen was his anticipation that he had composed his symphony No. 99 before he arrived on our shores. The work was, however, premiered in London at the Kings Theatre in February 1794.
Haydn’s exuberant high spirits, not to mention his mastery of sonata form, are in evidence throughout this symphony. There is a quiet meditative opening, but joie de vivre is always there, just under the surface, hurrying the music along and having no truck with dark or sombre thoughts. In the right mood we might even detect the occasional chuckle. This is not a disrespectful observation; you can find many examples of Haydn’s sense of humour throughout his oeuvre, and if you wished for visual evidence, study the famous portrait by Thomas Hardy and note the gently ironic smile on the great man’s lips.
We come now to the main item in the programme – Brahms’ Violin Concerto in D Major. My father, on active service during the last war, first heard the music on the wireless while he was sheltering from a furious and destructive air-raid. ‘Strange’ he remarked to a companion in the shelter ‘the nation which produced this glorious work of art is now engaged in knocking the Hell out of us!’ A paradox indeed but now, thankfully, the fury has gone long since while the glory remains, timeless and sublime. Virile and passionate this mighty work demands the complete surrender of one’s musical soul where it remains long after a first hearing. Characteristically Brahms himself was modest about his achievement; even referring to the slow movement as ‘a feeble adagio’. Few will echo that sentiment when listening to the dialogue between the oboe and the solo violin in all its loveliness!
Public performance of this work since its first outing with Joachim in 1877 has a distinguished provenance, and includes Leopold Auer, Henri Marteau, Max Reger, Fritz Kreisler, Jascha Heifetz, George Enescu, Nigel Kennedy, Ida Haendel, Ginette Neveu and Itzhak Perlman among many others – hard acts to follow one would suppose. But follow our soloist – Francesca Barritt – did. A rare and blooming young talent, Francesca set about stamping her own personality on the piece with impressive verve and confidence. Her reading of the music combined artistry of the highest order with technical brilliance, and her own striking presence (she looked as though she had just walked out of a portrait by Augustus John) heightened the effect. Of course, it was not only the audience which was delighted with her playing; the Dacorum Symphony Orchestra gave Francesca the very best support throughout.
For some sixty years now a controversy has raged as the whether the theme tune of Brahms’ Variations on a Theme by Haydn was, in fact, by Haydn. Musical cognoscenti have debated endlessly on all sides of the issue and different theories have sprouted like mushrooms in a field on a damp September morning. Your reviewer is not equipped, technically, to enter into this debate but he is entitled to suggest that this elegant composition is, as a whole, unmistakably by Brahms. I recall hearing this music for the first time on the ‘wireless’ over sixty years ago and being struck then by its unique blending of classical purity and intense lyricism. Anyway, it was good to hear the DSO smoothly getting on with the job, far away from the babble of the musical chattering classes.
In the 1790s this country took Haydn – already secure in his European reputation as its most celebrated composer – to its heart. There was a positive love affair in progress between London and the great classical master. Britons hungered after everything that he could produce and Haydn, for his part, was never happier than when in London, feted and lionized by the music loving public. His first visit – an unqualified success – took place between 1791 and 1792 and it wasn’t long before he was pressed to come again. Come again he did and so keen was his anticipation that he had composed his symphony No. 99 before he arrived on our shores. The work was, however, premiered in London at the Kings Theatre in February 1794.
Haydn’s exuberant high spirits, not to mention his mastery of sonata form, are in evidence throughout this symphony. There is a quiet meditative opening, but joie de vivre is always there, just under the surface, hurrying the music along and having no truck with dark or sombre thoughts. In the right mood we might even detect the occasional chuckle. This is not a disrespectful observation; you can find many examples of Haydn’s sense of humour throughout his oeuvre, and if you wished for visual evidence, study the famous portrait by Thomas Hardy and note the gently ironic smile on the great man’s lips.
We come now to the main item in the programme – Brahms’ Violin Concerto in D Major. My father, on active service during the last war, first heard the music on the wireless while he was sheltering from a furious and destructive air-raid. ‘Strange’ he remarked to a companion in the shelter ‘the nation which produced this glorious work of art is now engaged in knocking the Hell out of us!’ A paradox indeed but now, thankfully, the fury has gone long since while the glory remains, timeless and sublime. Virile and passionate this mighty work demands the complete surrender of one’s musical soul where it remains long after a first hearing. Characteristically Brahms himself was modest about his achievement; even referring to the slow movement as ‘a feeble adagio’. Few will echo that sentiment when listening to the dialogue between the oboe and the solo violin in all its loveliness!
Public performance of this work since its first outing with Joachim in 1877 has a distinguished provenance, and includes Leopold Auer, Henri Marteau, Max Reger, Fritz Kreisler, Jascha Heifetz, George Enescu, Nigel Kennedy, Ida Haendel, Ginette Neveu and Itzhak Perlman among many others – hard acts to follow one would suppose. But follow our soloist – Francesca Barritt – did. A rare and blooming young talent, Francesca set about stamping her own personality on the piece with impressive verve and confidence. Her reading of the music combined artistry of the highest order with technical brilliance, and her own striking presence (she looked as though she had just walked out of a portrait by Augustus John) heightened the effect. Of course, it was not only the audience which was delighted with her playing; the Dacorum Symphony Orchestra gave Francesca the very best support throughout.