Rachmaninoff Triple Bill
Sergei Rachmaninoff
b. Oneg, Russia / March 20, 1873; d. Beverly Hills, California, USA / March 28, 1943
“A composer’s music should express the country of his birth, his love affairs, his religion, the books which have influenced him, the pictures he loves...My music is the product of my temperament, and so it is Russian music.” – Sergei Rachmaninoff
Sometimes it pays to be “old-fashioned,” if that means writing attractive, communicative, emotional music. Opinions come and go, but “old-fashioned” composers such as Rachmaninoff (and his idol and mentor, Tchaikovsky) have the goods to weather the whims of critical opinion and maintain their popularity. Audiences loved Rachmaninoff’s music during his lifetime, they still do, and it is likely they will continue to do so for a long time to come.
The tall, lanky, sober-faced (but warm-hearted) Russian possessed a three-fold musical gift. He was a brilliant pianist, the main source of his fame and income during his lifetime; a gifted conductor, to whom the symphony orchestras of Boston and Cincinnati offered the post of music director; and a superb composer, the pursuit which he valued most of all.
Concerto No. 1 in F-sharp Minor, Op. 1
Rachmaninoff completed this concerto in 1891. It was the eighteen-year-old composer’s longest and most ambitious piece to date, and the first he deemed worthy of bearing an opus number. The premiere took place at a student concert in Moscow the following March, with the composer as soloist, but the piece made little impression.
As his fame grew, so did curiosity over his First Concerto, especially after Concerto No. 2 proved enormously popular. He resisted requests to perform it again, planning to revise a work which he considered immature to a level closer in quality to his later compositions for piano and orchestra. He finally found time to do so in 1917, during the Bolshevik Revolution and shortly before what proved to be his reluctant but permanent departure from his homeland. It is this revised version of Concerto No. 1 (premiered in New York in 1919) which has been performed ever since.
In it may be heard, if not in fully polished states, many of the characteristics familiar from his mature compositions, including the passion, the soaring romantic themes, and the lush orchestration. The slow second movement is perhaps the most memorable segment. It is a tender, nocturne like creation where Rachmaninoff skillfully uses the woodwind instruments to support the piano.
Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, Op. 18
In 1897, the disastrous premiere of Rachmaninoff’s First Symphony threw his promising career as a composer into disarray. For three agonizing years, he found himself unable to create anything significant. He sought the help of Dr. Nikolai Dahl, a psychoanalyst. As the composer recalled, “My relations had told Dr. Dahl that he must at all costs cure me of my apathetic condition and achieve such results that I would again begin to compose. Dahl asked what manner of composition they desired and had received the answer, ‘a concerto for pianoforte,’ for this I had promised to the people in London and had given it up in despair. Consequently I heard the same hypnotic formula repeated day after day while I lay half asleep in my armchair in Dr. Dahl’s study, ‘You will begin to write your concerto....You will work with great facility....The concerto will be of excellent quality....’ It was always the same, without interruption.
“Although it may sound incredible, this cure really helped me. Already at the start of the summer, I was composing once more. The material accumulated, and new musical ideas began to stir within me – many more than I needed for my concerto. By autumn I had completed two movements (the Andante and the Finale)....These I played that same season at a charity concert, with gratifying success....By the Spring I had finished the first movement (Moderato)...and felt that Dr. Dahl’s treatment had strengthened my nervous system to a miraculous degree. Out of gratitude I dedicated my Second Concerto to him.” The first complete performance took place in Moscow on November 9, 1901, with the composer as soloist and his cousin, Alexander Ziloti, conducting.
The reasons for the Concerto’s enormous popularity are clear. It displays its emotions directly, particularly warmth and melancholy. The themes are attractive and memorable; Rachmaninoff clothed them in lush orchestral colors; and the solo part is brilliant, mirroring the power and expressiveness of the composer’s own magnificent performing skills. He performed it himself no fewer than 143 times, and recorded it twice.
Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 30
In anticipation of his first visit to America, Rachmaninoff decided to create a new concerto, with which he hoped to conquer the new world. He composed it during the summer and autumn of 1909. With Walter Damrosch conducting the Orchestra of the New York Symphony Society, Rachmaninoff gave the premiere of Concerto No. 3 on November 28. The Concerto impressed neither the public nor the critics. They considered it too long, too complex, and less immediately attractive than the beloved No. 2.
That second-class status remained in effect for many years, and not just because of the initial reaction. Rachmaninoff was not only one of the greatest pianists of the day, he was also one of the strongest. Bearing his own, almost superhuman gifts in mind, he had written a solo part so exhausting that few, if any others were equal to its demands. Even Josef Hofmann, the eminent virtuoso to whom Rachmaninoff dedicated it, declined to perform it.
This unfortunate situation remained in effect until the arrival of a new lion of the keyboard, Rachmaninoff’s fellow Russian, Vladimir Horowitz. For many years, few save Rachmaninoff and Horowitz played the Third Concerto. But times have changed. With increasing numbers of new, ever more virtuosic pianists coming on the scene, it has come to rival Concerto No. 2 in numbers of performances. The prominent part it played in the Oscar-winning movie Shine (1996) has given it an even greater lease on life.
So deep do Rachmaninoff’s roots lie in his country’s native music that the haunting first theme of the Concerto’s opening movement could easily be mistaken for a Russian folk song or church chant. As this spacious movement unfolds, Rachmaninoff demonstrates that the melody harbors within its elegant simplicity many possibilities for elaboration. So too does the other material, which is equally eloquent in character. A solo cadenza of awe-inspiring power and difficulty crowns this section.
The slow movement opens with a wistful orchestral introduction. The piano enters with material that forms the starting point for a set of variations. The majority of these remain in a reflective mode, but first passion, then playfulness play significant roles in the proceedings, as well. Without a pause, a brilliant outburst by the soloist ushers in the Finale, a canvas virtually as broad as the opening movement and even more dynamic in character. Themes from earlier in the Concerto intermingle with new material. A torrent of virtuosity on both the creative and performing fronts sweeps the Concerto forward to its resounding conclusion.
Program Notes by Don Anderson (c) 2008
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