Violin Concerto in A minor, Op. 82
Alexander Glazunov (1865-1936)
What is missing from the title above? Answer: there is none of the usual ‘allegro; andante; presto’ to indicate the approximate tempo for each movement because this concerto does not have clearly delineated movements. Does that make the music difficult to follow? Not really. It is easy on the ear with a rich strain of romantic melody to soften the heart and pyrotechnics from the soloist to firm it up again. The unusual format encourages listeners to ‘go with the flow’ and to enjoy this mystery cruise as it explores the musical oceans without anxiety about its exact location. A few floating signposts confirm that our boat is on course all the same, as the following guide to the concerto’s general shape attempts to show.
Alexander Glazunov dispenses with a grand tutti opening for the orchestra alone. The soloist plunges into the initially gentle maelstrom and stays there from beginning to end with two short breaks. Search the internet and you will find that commentators vary in their judgements on how many movements or sections there are. Some say two; others say five.
For those unfamiliar with the work, it is easiest to note the mood and character of the opening and to mark the arrival of a significant slowing of the tempo. This follows the first of the short breaks for the violin soloist, and heralds a sort of slow movement. The effortless flow of melody, the lush harmony and sensitive orchestration are beguiling indeed, yet it turns out that this slow movement leads to a return of the musical material of the first movement, thus giving us a movement within a movement. Listen out for the second of the two breaks for the soloist, which occurs between the slow section and the first movement’s return. An unmissable moment is the cadenza. While the orchestral musicians down tools for a while, the soloist offers a riveting display of technique and artistry. At times we could swear that we are hearing two violins! The timpani and lower strings eventually join the soloist in a polite and discreet manner. Pretty soon after that, the full orchestra, led by the trumpets, presents a jolly fanfare-like melody. From here to the end it’s a pleasing romp in the major key. The virtuosity of the solo part is ever more impressive yet there is nothing flashy or vulgar. It always serves to enhance the exuberant spirit of this splendid finale.
Glazunov enjoyed a distinguished career, first as a talented ‘Russian’ composer, writing music to evoke the folk spirit of his nation. As time passed, he gravitated towards western styles, and his later compositions sound more German than Russian. Even in his own day, he was considered somewhat old-fashioned. An air of resignation may be sensed by listeners. The American critic, Orrin Harwood wrote of the Violin Concerto, ‘The work … has about it a deep-hued Romanticism, its lyricism tinged with a hint of world-weariness, the melodies bittersweet.’ The New Zealand critic, Paul Serotsky, uttered a similar affectionate opinion. ‘Like Mendelssohn’s, Glazunov’s music lacks rabble-rousing spectacle, but it is always finely-crafted, sensitively orchestrated, often ingeniously structured, and never less than imaginative.’ The most rousing summary comes from the influential critic, Hans Keller, who wrote, ‘Glazunov created an almost perfect concerto’, an endorsement that chimes with the opinion of many leading violinists to this day.
Alexander Glazunov (1865-1936)
What is missing from the title above? Answer: there is none of the usual ‘allegro; andante; presto’ to indicate the approximate tempo for each movement because this concerto does not have clearly delineated movements. Does that make the music difficult to follow? Not really. It is easy on the ear with a rich strain of romantic melody to soften the heart and pyrotechnics from the soloist to firm it up again. The unusual format encourages listeners to ‘go with the flow’ and to enjoy this mystery cruise as it explores the musical oceans without anxiety about its exact location. A few floating signposts confirm that our boat is on course all the same, as the following guide to the concerto’s general shape attempts to show.
Alexander Glazunov dispenses with a grand tutti opening for the orchestra alone. The soloist plunges into the initially gentle maelstrom and stays there from beginning to end with two short breaks. Search the internet and you will find that commentators vary in their judgements on how many movements or sections there are. Some say two; others say five.
For those unfamiliar with the work, it is easiest to note the mood and character of the opening and to mark the arrival of a significant slowing of the tempo. This follows the first of the short breaks for the violin soloist, and heralds a sort of slow movement. The effortless flow of melody, the lush harmony and sensitive orchestration are beguiling indeed, yet it turns out that this slow movement leads to a return of the musical material of the first movement, thus giving us a movement within a movement. Listen out for the second of the two breaks for the soloist, which occurs between the slow section and the first movement’s return. An unmissable moment is the cadenza. While the orchestral musicians down tools for a while, the soloist offers a riveting display of technique and artistry. At times we could swear that we are hearing two violins! The timpani and lower strings eventually join the soloist in a polite and discreet manner. Pretty soon after that, the full orchestra, led by the trumpets, presents a jolly fanfare-like melody. From here to the end it’s a pleasing romp in the major key. The virtuosity of the solo part is ever more impressive yet there is nothing flashy or vulgar. It always serves to enhance the exuberant spirit of this splendid finale.
Glazunov enjoyed a distinguished career, first as a talented ‘Russian’ composer, writing music to evoke the folk spirit of his nation. As time passed, he gravitated towards western styles, and his later compositions sound more German than Russian. Even in his own day, he was considered somewhat old-fashioned. An air of resignation may be sensed by listeners. The American critic, Orrin Harwood wrote of the Violin Concerto, ‘The work … has about it a deep-hued Romanticism, its lyricism tinged with a hint of world-weariness, the melodies bittersweet.’ The New Zealand critic, Paul Serotsky, uttered a similar affectionate opinion. ‘Like Mendelssohn’s, Glazunov’s music lacks rabble-rousing spectacle, but it is always finely-crafted, sensitively orchestrated, often ingeniously structured, and never less than imaginative.’ The most rousing summary comes from the influential critic, Hans Keller, who wrote, ‘Glazunov created an almost perfect concerto’, an endorsement that chimes with the opinion of many leading violinists to this day.