Andreas Romberg
Born April 27, 1767 in Vechta, Germany
died November 10, 1821 in Gotha, Germany
Created:
1800
CD recording:
Chouchane Siranossian 2018
It was a first career highlight when the two highly talented “Romberg brothers” from a musical family in Münster, Westphalia, appeared as soloists in the famous Concert spirituels in
Paris in 1785. Bernhard and Andreas Romberg were actually cousins, but brothers rather than cousins seemed to be more effective advertising for highly talented young people. Bernhard was a
cellist, Andreas a violinist. They made the acquaintance of the famous Gluck, Haydn and Viotti. In 1790, they joined the Bonn court orchestra, where they met a certain Ludwig van Beethoven as a
colleague. Both composed pieces, initially for their own use. The Rombergs went on to become famous traveling soloists throughout Europe. Andreas composed his violin concertos for his own use, as
was customary among famous violinists at the time, and took them with him on his concert tours as luggage. Anyone listening to these concertos today will immediately notice their proximity to the
style of Viennese Classicism, which is why the Rombergs are referred to as Northern German Classicism. It was not a direct influence from Vienna, it was the contemporary way of composing.
However, unlike many musicians of the time, Andreas Romberg's compositions stood out for their originality, wit and surprising effects. He composed operas, symphonies, chamber music and much
sacred music.
Unfortunately, the violin concertos soon disappeared from concert life, not least because they were probably only composed for personal performances. Other violinists such as Spohr in
Germany, Kreutzer and Rode in France were competitors. Even today, Romberg's violin concerto manuscripts lie almost hidden in the archives of the Hamburg City and University Library. The turmoil
of the Revolutionary Wars then drove Andreas Romberg to Hamburg, where he married, took up residence and influenced Hamburg's musical life for over 10 years. It was here that he composed his then
famous setting of Schiller's Lied von der Glocke. In 1809, he received an honorary doctorate from the University of Kiel for his “musical masterpieces”, which entitled him to call himself “Doctor
of the liberal arts, especially music”. Economic hardship during the war and concern for his family, which had grown to eleven children, finally prompted him to move to the court of Gotha as a
salaried court conductor. He died there in 1821 at the age of 54, “in the true sense of the word out of grief”, as Bernhard Romberg said of him.
He composed the original Concerto in G minor, one of his 20 violin concertos, at the age of 33 around 1800 at the height of his virtuoso career as a violinist.
Listen to it here!
Listening companion:
With a typical Sturm und Drang orchestral gesture, probably influenced by symphonies of the Viennese Classical period, this concerto begins brilliantly and charges confidently and powerfully at
the audience. A G flat B flat motif responds gently and almost hesitantly, first in the strings, then in the woodwinds. Only gradually does the orchestral prelude take on more melodic momentum
and transforms into a minor melody that is repeated several times.
The solo violin enters strikingly with the G minor motif and develops it further into somewhat murky melodic fanning out. Once again, the motif clearly marks its presence, then the violin sounds
the second theme on its dark G side, which is immediately sung out in a high register.
After some preparatory passagework by the violin, the violin presents the second theme in a vocal major and plays itself free of all gloom in brilliant and virtuoso figurations.
An orchestral tutti ends this first solo section and leads to the development. With sonorous double stops, the violin joins in the development with virtuosity and plays with the two themes of
this movement, first with the motif, then with the vocal theme, conjuring up a brilliance in the violin playing that is free of all gloom.
Only when the orchestra intervenes again does the mood darken once more. In the recapitulation, the solo violin recalls the G minor motif. Even the vocal theme is now immersed in a mysterious,
painful minor atmosphere when it returns.
An orchestral tutti reminiscent of the stormy opening concludes and leads to a very special solo cadenza written by Romberg himself (which has survived in a later manuscript and incorporates
timpani into the cadenza even before Beethoven's piano version of his violin concerto). The violin begins its cadenza with almost eerily rolling figures, but is then interrupted by a wind choir
with clarinets and timpani, which are only used here in a death march-like manner, but the violin continues to play its figures, is interrupted again and then rises to the highest heights to
escape all the darkness. But the orchestra then brings the work to a powerful close in a dark minor key.
A sweeping, beautiful vocal melody begins twice in the solo violin before it takes off and floats away into spherical dimensions, only to return and repeat itself again in beauty. The orchestra
follows this melody gently at first, and then gives way again, back to the violin.
But then the orchestra wants to bring the violin back into the dark atmosphere of the first movement. But the violin does not stop singing, repeating its beautiful melody and embellishing its
melodic inventions to take us along with it and enchant us as listeners until we ourselves sing along inwardly. Only the orchestra brings us back to reality.
A dance-like rondo theme in the solo violin, repeated several times, opens a polonaise in a minor key. The orchestra dances along behind it, almost wittily and lightly stomping.
A first couplet in fast semiquavers on the violin continues the round dance, but brings darker shades of sound, variations, delays and finally more thoughtful melodies into the action. Until
finally - as if rounding a corner - the loose rondo theme reappears, first in the violin, then in the orchestra, full steam ahead and pounding.
A second couplet, which introduces the violin, is reminiscent of a kind of subdued well-being, a barely bearable looseness of being. The orchestra colors this peculiar mood, you can hear drone
sounds from somewhere.
But everything is in order and the violin leads back to its polonaise and takes another turn, the orchestra finally joins in and follows the violin, even when it takes another turn. But then it's
over, simply and in G minor, the end of an original, forgotten violin concerto of North German classical music.