JOSHUA BELL BRUCH Scottish Fantasy Academy of St Martin in the Fields Br uc h (1838-1920) SCOTTISH FANTASY FOR VIOLIN AND ORCHESTRA, OP. 46 1 I. Introduction: Grave, Adagio cantabile 2 II. Scherzo: Allegro 3 III. Andante sostenuto 4 IV. Finale: Allegro guerriero VIOLIN CONCERTO NO. 1 IN G MINOR, OP. 26 5 I. Vorspiel: Allegro moderato 6 II. Adagio 7 III. Finale: Allegro energico Joshua Bell, Soloist/Director Academy of St Martin in the Fields Master of More than Melody The works presented here are two out of the three pieces by Max Bruch that can be called staples of the classical repertoire. (The third is his piece for cello and orchestra, Kol Nidrei.) In his lifetime he was best known for large-scale choral works, well received at their premieres and popular with the many amateur choral societies found throughout Europe in the later 19th century. Those choruses began to dwindle once the 20th century got underway. As they disappeared, Bruch’s cantatas and oratorios also faded from consciousness, rarely, if ever, to be heard again. By association, Bruch became thought of as a composer whose time had come and gone. It is interesting to compare the very diff erent assessments of him in two successive editions of Grove’s Dictionary of Music, from 1904 and 1954. The earlier edition declared: “He is above all a master of melody, and of the eff ective treatment of masses of sound.” By 1954 the verdict on his output was dismissive and condescending: ‘It is its lack of adventure that limited its fame.’ Bruch was born during the lifetimes of Mendelssohn and Schumann and died when Schoenberg and Stravinsky were creating gigantic waves in musical life. One could hardly have expected a composer with that lifespan to remain throughout at the cutting edge of “adventure.” Along with many other musicians of his generation he never warmed to the intense chromaticism or formal experimentation of Liszt and Wagner. Melody was too important to him, and he had a remarkable gift for it. Allied to his ability to dream up memorable and emotive themes was a fi rm grasp of musical structure. When the two go hand-in-hand, a composer has the best possible chance of communicating with an audience. Although Bruch’s early musical training was in the hands of somewhat solidly conservative fi gures (notably Ferdinand Hiller), he was in one respect ahead of his time: he had a keen interest in folk song, and not just that of his own culture, believing it could be profi tably integrated into art music. The most celebrated product of this enthusiasm is Kol Nidrei; it is based on the Jewish sacred chant of that name and a second Hebrew melody taken from a collection published in 1815. In 1879, the year of its composition, Bruch was conductor of a Berlin choir whose Jewish members picked up on his interest in varous aspects of their culture and drew his attention to the melodies. This enduringly popular piece, plus the name Max, has led many people to assume Bruch was himself Jewish; it was enough for the Nazis to proscribe his music as degenerate. In fact no Jewish roots in his ancestry have so far been unearthed. As those countless oratorios attest, he was a practicing Protestant Christian. Bruch’s Scottish Fantasy might also be viewed as indicative of his passion for folk tunes, though it would be stretching a point to promote him as a pioneering ethnomusicologist. The romance he associated with Scotland stemmed not from fi eld research but from his having read several novels by Walter Scott. In fact he wrote the Fantasy in 1880, before he had ever visited the country. The extensive use in the score of the concert harp suggests a somewhat vague grasp of Celtic culture, since the folk harp is more characteristic of Welsh or Irish traditional music than Scottish. Still, a bagpiper on stage would probably have diverted came to him requesting that he conduct the First a much less conventional way, developing the ideas in attention from the violin soloist; after all, doesn’t the Concerto he sometimes exploded in irritation, saying that dialogue between soloist and orchestra, as in terms of key we title fantasy suggest some sort of showpiece potpourri the Second and Third were as good if not better. It got move from B fl at minor to an extended bass-pedal D, based on well-known tunes? To an extent Bruch’s to the point where he was even snapping at his publisher the dominant of the original tonic. When G minor is re- work is indeed a virtuoso vehicle, though it celebrates for suggesting concertante works for cello or piano; he established it is not the signal for a recapitulation but for a the violin as singer rather than acrobat, and is not a frivolous no longer wanted to be thought of as a composer of fortissimo orchestral outburst that climaxes in a brief, concoction. The composer sensed its title might hinder its concertos, let alone that concerto. arresting new theme, then subsides to a return of the reception in the more seriously minded parts of Europe, introductory thirds. From this material, plus cadenza and experimented by billing it as a concerto in some early There is a crucial hidden story here. At the time of writing passages, a marvelous transition to the slow movement performances. A certain duality of character is evident the First Concerto, having had some exposure as a teenage is fashioned. when one considers the two soloists associated with prodigy, Bruch was endeavoring to make a fresh start those fi rst outings. One was the lyrically inclined as an adult composer. As a consequence he accepted a With its three deceptively simple themes, the E fl at Adagio Joseph Joachim, who advised on the violin writing during one-off fee for its publication, and never saw a pfennig in enshrines the concept of rapture in both its meditative and composition; the other was the more fl amboyant virtuoso royalties. He was neither the fi rst nor the last composer to ecstatic forms. Its most magical moment occurs when, just as Pablo de Sarasate, who received the dedication after experience the bitterness of such a situation. the fi re’s embers seem to be dying, the music begins again Bruch’s friendship with Joachim cooled. in G fl at major – the gentlest, most exquisite surprise As for the work itself, there is a striking affi nity with another possible. The G major fi nale begins with a bustle of But neither the showcasing of the soloist nor the concerto-like minor-key violin concerto that had been premiered in 1845: anticipation and proceeds with a miraculously sustained aspirations detracts from the importance or authenticity of Mendelssohn’s, in E Minor. Max Bruch was born in 1838, air of celebration. There are two main themes, the fi rst with the Scottish melodies themselves. They were gleaned from the year that Mendelssohn’s fi rst ideas for his work a Hungarian fl avor (perhaps in honor of Joachim’s origins, the same anthology that Haydn had utilized when sourcing emerged. Both concertos took several years to reach and published ten years before Brahms paid similar his settings of Scottish folk songs. The basis of the fi rst their perfected form; Bruch started sketching his in homage in his own Violin Concerto). The second leaps movement is a tune called “Thro’ the Wood, Laddie,” 1864, heard a fi rst version performed in 1866, then made majestically over large spans as if taking deep, satisfi ed and it is used to evoke an atmosphere of ancient mystery, further revisions before the fi rst performance in its breaths after having climbed to the summit of a hill. How shrouded, perhaps, in “Scotch mist”. defi nitive form two years later. Mendelssohn and Bruch sad that the composer of such life-affi rming music came to both introduce their soloists after the briefest of resent its popularity. If only he could have joined the The second movement introduces the tune “The Dusty introductions, eschewing the conventional orchestral countless musicians and listeners over the generations for Miller” and features, if not real bagpipes, then a suitable exposition. And, no doubt consciously, Bruch follows whom the concerto has a very special place in the heart. drone eff ect from the strings. For the slow movement, the Mendelssohn’s practice of joining fi rst and second source material is a song called “I’m a’ Doun for Lack movements with a linking passage. — Brian David, 2018 o’ Johnnie,” which is contemplated at length in a series of variations. The fi nale features the warlike “Scots Wa Joseph Joachim advised Bruch on technical matters Hae” – Bruch here tips his bonnet to the corresponding concerning the solo part, which is notable for copious use movement in Mendelssohn’s Scottish Symphony by employing of double-stopping. Joachim was notoriously tied to the same, unusual tempo direction: Allegro guerriero. It tradition, and the composer must have been nervous that will be noticed that some of these melodies steal into his radical abbreviation of sonata form in the fi rst other movements, which helps create a sense of unity. movement would incur his intended soloist’s disapproval. As would later occur with the Scottish Fantasy, he debated The Scottish Fantasy was written at the height of Bruch’s whether “concerto” was the correct title, though surely career as a composer. He was also much in demand as a only the most pedantic theorist could object to it.