Horn Concerto No. 1 in E flat, Op. 11
Richard Strauss (1864-1949)
Allegro; Andante; Allegro
Michael Kennedy hit a nail on its head when he described Richard Strauss’s first horn concerto as ‘...his first wholly satisfying composition ... the work achieves an almost Mozartian grace and humour.’ Most who know it agree, and concur that its challenge for the soloist is daunting; its construction is ingenious; its appeal is immediate. These claims deserve expansion and explanation.
Strauss was 19 years of age when he composed the concerto for his father, Franz Strauss, whom he admired greatly. Franz, principal horn of the Bavarian Court orchestra, was said to play exquisitely. Richard Wagner didn’t like him. ‘An unbearable fellow’, was his subtle assessment, but even the generally ungenerous Wagner owned that ‘...when he plays the horn it is impossible to be angry with him.’ Hans von Bülow, the distinguished conductor, described Franz Strauss as ‘the Joachim of the horn’, but there was a snag. Strauss père felt that at the age of 61 he was too old to play such a treacherous piece in public, so he left the task to others. Thus was the legend of difficulty born, but it has faded. Today, most advanced players give it a try yet, with hindsight, we understand why it was regarded as a daunting test when the somewhat less demanding concertos by W.A. Mozart were its main precursors.
So much for its challenge. Its construction is ingenious because one might expect a young composer to abide by the conventions when writing his first concerto. Not entirely. The work is cast in three linked movements where the themes are catchy, memorable and distinctive. Musical eggheads might notice that they are interconnected as well, all being built on major or minor arpeggios and their variants. This fanfare-like foundation suits the horn eminently well. After an opening flourish and an orchestral exposition, the soloist offers us a broad melody of grace and proportion. A rhythmically adjusted version of the same tune returns in the middle of the slow movement, played fortissimo on the horn against a stuttering woodwind accompaniment. The opening flourish is not forgotten either. The same notes are transformed into a bouncing finale without our really noticing it. Towards the end of the finale, the minor-key melody of the slow movement makes a brief, ghostly return, spelled out by clarinets and bassoons. Strauss’s ingenuity is embedded in this musical tapestry. Thematic connections within and between movements provide a sense of unity that binds the short work together in a wholly satisfying manner.
Its appeal is immediate because it arouses associated thoughts and previous experiences so successfully. Being utterly horn-like, it couldn’t be played convincingly on any other instrument. Even when heard for the first time, it seems familiar because it reminds us of great horn music of previous ages: Mozart’s concertos of course, but also Johannes Brahms’s and Wagner’s magical use of the instrument within the orchestra. It offers hints of the future as well: the great ‘horn moments’ in Strauss’s own tone poems and the sweeping dominance of the horns in Gustav Mahler’s symphonies are anticipated in this light-hearted work. Strauss said, ‘I may not be a first-rate composer, but I am a first-class second-rate composer!’ After listening to this challenging, ingenious and appealing concerto, we may judge him to have been too modest.
Richard Strauss (1864-1949)
Allegro; Andante; Allegro
Michael Kennedy hit a nail on its head when he described Richard Strauss’s first horn concerto as ‘...his first wholly satisfying composition ... the work achieves an almost Mozartian grace and humour.’ Most who know it agree, and concur that its challenge for the soloist is daunting; its construction is ingenious; its appeal is immediate. These claims deserve expansion and explanation.
Strauss was 19 years of age when he composed the concerto for his father, Franz Strauss, whom he admired greatly. Franz, principal horn of the Bavarian Court orchestra, was said to play exquisitely. Richard Wagner didn’t like him. ‘An unbearable fellow’, was his subtle assessment, but even the generally ungenerous Wagner owned that ‘...when he plays the horn it is impossible to be angry with him.’ Hans von Bülow, the distinguished conductor, described Franz Strauss as ‘the Joachim of the horn’, but there was a snag. Strauss père felt that at the age of 61 he was too old to play such a treacherous piece in public, so he left the task to others. Thus was the legend of difficulty born, but it has faded. Today, most advanced players give it a try yet, with hindsight, we understand why it was regarded as a daunting test when the somewhat less demanding concertos by W.A. Mozart were its main precursors.
So much for its challenge. Its construction is ingenious because one might expect a young composer to abide by the conventions when writing his first concerto. Not entirely. The work is cast in three linked movements where the themes are catchy, memorable and distinctive. Musical eggheads might notice that they are interconnected as well, all being built on major or minor arpeggios and their variants. This fanfare-like foundation suits the horn eminently well. After an opening flourish and an orchestral exposition, the soloist offers us a broad melody of grace and proportion. A rhythmically adjusted version of the same tune returns in the middle of the slow movement, played fortissimo on the horn against a stuttering woodwind accompaniment. The opening flourish is not forgotten either. The same notes are transformed into a bouncing finale without our really noticing it. Towards the end of the finale, the minor-key melody of the slow movement makes a brief, ghostly return, spelled out by clarinets and bassoons. Strauss’s ingenuity is embedded in this musical tapestry. Thematic connections within and between movements provide a sense of unity that binds the short work together in a wholly satisfying manner.
Its appeal is immediate because it arouses associated thoughts and previous experiences so successfully. Being utterly horn-like, it couldn’t be played convincingly on any other instrument. Even when heard for the first time, it seems familiar because it reminds us of great horn music of previous ages: Mozart’s concertos of course, but also Johannes Brahms’s and Wagner’s magical use of the instrument within the orchestra. It offers hints of the future as well: the great ‘horn moments’ in Strauss’s own tone poems and the sweeping dominance of the horns in Gustav Mahler’s symphonies are anticipated in this light-hearted work. Strauss said, ‘I may not be a first-rate composer, but I am a first-class second-rate composer!’ After listening to this challenging, ingenious and appealing concerto, we may judge him to have been too modest.