I. Allegro ma non troppo
II. Larghetto
III. Rondo
Beethoven composed this concerto in 1806 for the violinist, Franz
Clement, who played it for the first time at the latter’s concert in the
Theater an der Wien, December 23 of that year.
Beethoven, often behindhand in finishing compositions for solo
players—according to the testimony of Dr. Bartolini and others—did not
have the concerto ready for rehearsal. Clement played it at the concert
_a vista_.
The first movement, _allegro ma non troppo_, in D major, 4-4, begins
with a long orchestral _ritornello_. The first theme is announced by
oboes, clarinets, and bassoons. It is introduced by four taps of the
kettledrums on D. (There is a story that these tones were suggested to
the composer by his hearing a neighbor knocking at the door of his house
for admission late at night.) The wind instruments go on with the second
phrase. Then come the famous and problematical four D sharps in the
first violins. The short second theme is given out by wood-wind and
horns in D major, repeated in D minor, and developed at length. The solo
violin enters after a half cadence on the dominant. The first part of
the movement is repeated. The solo violin plays the themes or embroiders
them. The working out is long and elaborate. A _cadenza_ is introduced
at the climax of the conclusion theme. There is a short _coda_.
The second movement, _Larghetto_, in G major, 4-4, is a romance in free
form. The accompaniment is lightly scored. The theme is almost wholly
confined to the orchestra, while the solo violin embroiders with
elaborate figuration until the end, when it brings in the theme, but
soon abandons it to continue the embroidery. A _cadenza_ leads to the
_finale_.
The third movement, _rondo_, in D major, 6-8, is based on a theme that
has the character of a folk dance. The second theme is a sort of hunting
call for the horns. There is place for the insertion of a free _cadenza_
near the end.
* * *
Beethoven’s great development of the symphony was in his use of the
instruments—not in their number. For the most part, he called for
virtually the same orchestra which his predecessors, Mozart and Haydn,
evolved: two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns,
two trumpets, kettledrums and strings. This applies to Beethoven’s
First, Second, Third, Fourth, Seventh, and Eighth symphonies
(exceptions: the addition of a third horn in the _Eroica_ symphony, and
use of a single flute in the Fourth).
In the Fifth symphony, he gave greater sonority to his _finale_ with
three trombones, double bassoon, and piccolo.
In the Sixth, he added a piccolo for the storm, two trombones for the
storm and _finale_.
In the Ninth, he increased his horns to four, added three trombones, and
the following instruments in the _alla marcia_ of the _finale_: piccolo,
double bassoon, cymbals, triangle, and bass drum.
In the overtures here listed, Beethoven added to the above essential
orchestration as follows: _Egmont_—two additional horns, piccolo;
_Leonore_—two additional horns and three trombones. The concertos call
for the minimum orchestration, “in twos.”—EDITOR.
HECTOR
BERLIOZ
(Born at La Côte Saint-André, December 11, 1803; died at Paris, March
9, 1869)
The more Berlioz is studied, the more the wonder grows at his colossal
originality. Yet there are some who still insist that he had little
melodic invention. They have ears, and they do not hear. They should
read the essay of Romain Rolland, and the essay of Felix Weingartner in
his _Akkorde_, for there are many, unfortunately, who do not trust their
own judgment and are eager to accept the sayings of others who are
considered men of authority.
Berlioz wrote his _Fantastic_ symphony in a high-strung, hotly romantic
period. Romanticism was in the air. Much that seems fantastic to us,
living in a commercial and material period, was natural then. It was as
natural to be extravagant in belief, theories, speech, manner of life,
dress, as it was to breathe. And Berlioz was a revolutionary of
revolutionaries. His “antediluvian hair” that rose from his forehead was
as much of a symbol as was the flaming waistcoat worn by Théophile on
the memorable first night of _Hernani_. We smile now at the
eccentricities and the extravagancies of the period, but we owe the
perpetrators a heavy debt of gratitude. They made the art of today
possible.
It is easy to call Berlioz a _poseur_, but the young man was terribly in
earnest. He put his own love tragedy into his _Fantastic_ symphony; he
was a man; he suffered; he was there; and so the music did not pass away
with the outward badges of romanticism, with much of Byron’s poetry,
with plays and novels of the time. The emotions he expressed are still
universal and elemental.