Max Bruch - Violin Concerto no. 3 in D minor

Max Bruch - Violin Concerto no. 3 in D minor

I. Allegro Energico

II. Adagio

III. Finale (Allegro molto)

The figure of Max Bruch in his mature years was a sorry one.  The instant success of his first Violin Concerto in G minor early in his compositional career, premièred in its final version in 1867, ensured his place in musical history, but the work completely overshadowed the rest of his vast output.  One report of the composer’s death in 1920 even explained that “the news came to many as a surprise that he had lived so long”!  Fluent in composition by the age of ten, Bruch was a child prodigy and composed more than 200 works, over half of which are published and performed to this day.  His ScottishFantasy in four movements for violin and orchestra and Kol Nidrei for cello and orchestra have also made it into the standard repertoire, but little is known of his vast choral output and three impressive symphonies.

Unfortunately, the third Violin Concerto of 1891 also falls into the abyss of Bruch’s forgotten works.  This would be understandable if he were the one hit wonder many people think him to be, but the concerto demonstrates a mature composer who is confident in his style and more than worthy of generous recognition.  By the time Bruch wrote his third Violin Concerto he had already written numerous concert pieces for the violin and gained much knowledge on how best to write for the instrument.  As Christopher Fifield explains in his book Max Bruch: His Life and Works, the only full study of the composer’s life to date, Bruch believed that the violin had an ability to “sing a melody better than the piano can, and melody is the soul of music.”  This commitment to melody and to the master works of composers such as Mendelssohn and Schumann set Bruch apart from his contemporaries, many of whom were experimenting with new ideas which became hugely influential in twentieth century.

Bruch was born in Cologne to lawyer August and singer Wilhelmine.  Despite losing her singing voice at a young age, Wilhelmine continued to give music lessons, including Max and his sister Mathilde’s first piano lessons.  She ensured that her son received the best tuition and served as a great role model for him, organising many concerts at their family home, a large number of which were choral.  The concerts inspired Max, who was best known during his lifetime for choral writing and his posts in Liverpool, Breslau and Berlin working with orchestras and choirs.  Unfortunately these works have since paled into insignificance due to the popularity of the Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor.

The stroke of genius that was Bruch’s first contribution to the concerto genre was not as effortless as the listener is led to believe.  It is almost unbelievable that whilst writing the piece Bruch wrote to his teacher Ferdinand Hiller that “I do not feel sure of my feet on this terrain”.  Hiller was able to offer support and advice concerning the writing of a concerto, but Bruch was so unsure of writing for the violin that he also sent early drafts of the piece to violinists Joseph Joachim and Ferdinand David.  The letters to and from Joachim show the extent of the virtuoso’s input, so much so that the publication of one letter was forbidden by the composer until after his death.  The letter contains several important ideas Joachim had for the concerto, including the suggestion of extending the B flat in the 1^st violins at the end of the first movement, which so memorably links it seamlessly to the second.

After the great success of the first concerto, a second was eagerly awaited.  The first attempt became the single movement Romanze in A minor for violin and orchestra op. 42, with the second concerto emerging shortly afterwards in 1877.  Bruch had recently befriended Spanish violinist Pablo de Sarasate, the concerto’s dedicatee, a friendship which rekindled his passion for violin writing.  Sarasate, who was known to have preferred playing this concerto to the first, suggested that it should have a programmatic element, documenting scenes from the Carlist wars in Spain, an idea which Bruch adopted despite usually avoiding narrative in his instrumental writing.  The piece suffered the misfortune of being premièred around the same time as Brahms’s revolutionary 1^stSymphony, so any chances it had of matching the success of the G minor concerto were immediately stifled.  Being the shortest and least substantial of Bruch’s concertos in terms of motivic interest, the second Violin Concerto does not come close to evoking the excitement of its predecessor.

Confusion surrounding Bruch’s concertante violin works arises when the Scottish Fantasyof 1880 is brought into the equation.  The four movement concert piece was often referred to by Bruch as the “Scottish Concerto”, each movement being influenced by a different folk melody.  It was even referred to for a time as the composer’s third Violin Concerto, but after discussions with Joachim it was decided that the free nature of the piece’s structure meant that it could be no more than a Fantasy.  Even though the melody of the virtuosic last movement is well known, few music lovers would think to associate it with the neglected composer.

The first movement of Bruch’s third Violin Concerto was written at his holiday retreat, the picturesque farmhouse Igeler Hofin Bergisch Gladbach near Cologne, in the summer of 1890.  It was originally intended to stand alone as a single movement Concert Allegro, which perhaps explains the length of the movement: it lasts as long as both the second and third movements combined.  On his return, Bruch showed the piece to Joachim and it was decided that it should be expanded to become a three movement violin concerto.

Composed in traditional Sonata Form, the movement starts with a generous orchestral exposition in which the main themes are introduced.  This feature is absent from the first two concertos which, like Mendelssohn’s first Violin Concerto, introduce the solo within the first few bars.  The two main themes are vastly contrasting, the first evoking a fanfare with its strong rhythmic identity and setting up the triplet versus semiquaver idea which features heavily in each movement.  The second theme, marked largamente, is much smoother in line and is arranged in much shorter phrases.  After the orchestra has introduced these themes, the violin enters with an extremely virtuosic introduction which leads into the main part of the movement, using fast arpeggios and impressive double stops to catch the audience’s attention before repeating the themes presented in the orchestral exposition.  The solo line is rich in double stops, most notably Bruch’s trademark 6^ths, an interval which sounds very impressive whilst fitting easily under the violinist’s fingers.

Despite two main themes having been introduced in this first section, a third idea is then stated by the orchestra in the dominant key of A major.  The violin then takes up the new theme which is much more flowing than the previous two.  The need for multiple points of melodic interest could perhaps have been fuelled by Bruch’s previous intention for the movement to stand alone.  Its expansive structure allows for multiple versions of each of the main themes and in certain places Bruch modifies the sonata structure in order to allow freedom for the violin to branch off into virtuoso cadenza-like displays.  After a flowing development section, the violin launches into the longest period of virtuosic display so far, working in conjunction with elements of the thematic material which appear in the accompaniment, bringing the movement to a jubilant end.

The following Adagio is undoubtedly a Romance, bringing to mind the beautiful second movement of the first concerto.  It is a wonderful demonstration of Bruch’s ability to produce something of natural beauty using very simple tools.  The two introductory passages which start the movement lead into a very simple yet highly lyrical melody which showcases the most expressive qualities of the instrument.  The violin then embarks on a passage consisting mainly of flowing demi-semiquavers which elaborate on the main theme and meander over the entire range of the instrument.  Bruch described the material in these passages as a “tender, whispered melisma”.  This comment formed part of a criticism of Joachim’s performance of the piece in which he played them “too quickly and too ardently” for Bruch’s liking.

After the calm ending of the second movement, the arrival of the rondo Finaledisrupts the peaceful idyll.  After a short rumbling in the accompaniment the violin enters with another strong rhythmic motif, played staccatissimo.  The theme focuses once again on the contrast between triplets and semiquavers, creating a perpetual motion which instils an energetic drive from the outset.  This exciting rhythmic pattern underpins most of the movement and is even present in the accompaniment during the violin’s lyrical double-stopped second theme.  The opening motif returns repeatedly, contrasted with more lyrical sections which show off the singing qualities which Bruch loved so much.

The movement is a great example of Bruch’s mature skill in balancing the violin against the orchestra, the vast orchestral forces providing impressive strength in tutti passages but thinning down substantially for violin entries, dovetailing each section with the next in a way which propels the music forward.  After the virtuosic nature of the whole concerto, the final movement draws to a close with a passage of double stops, sharp rhythms and flashy arpeggios before rounding everything off explosively with three final statements of the opening rhythmic motif.

Joseph Joachim, who premièred the work in 1891, was reportedly “tireless in performing the third Violin Concerto”.  This is understandable as not only is the concerto an exciting journey for the audience, it is also an absolute pleasure to play.  The first concerto’s enormous popularity has led to it becoming a cliché for some violinists.  The third provides something refreshingly different whilst still retaining the familiar charm and excitement of Bruch’s style.  Bruch wrote to his publisher Simrock that “nothing compares to the laziness, stupidity and dullness of many German violinists.  Every fortnight another one comes to me wanting to play the first concerto; I have now become rude, and have told them: ‘I cannot listen to this concerto any more – did I perhaps write just this one?  Go away and once and for all play the other Concertos, which are just as good, if not better.’”  This piece is neglected for no good reason.  It is easy to stop at the first Violin Concerto and ignore the wealth of other wonderful works Bruch has to offer.