Ludwig (Louis) Spohr
born 5 April 1784 in Brunswick
died 22 October 1859 in Kassel
Date of composition:
Concertante No.1 A Major for two violins: Spring 1808 in Gotha;
Violin Concerto No.9 d-minor: 1820
CD recommendations:
Concertante No.1 A Major for two violins:
Antje Weithaas, Mila Georgieva 1997/98
Ulf and Gundhild Hoelscher 2001
H. Kraggerud, O. Bjora 2008
Violin Concerto No.9 d-minor:
Erica Morini 1963
Christiane Edinger 1993
Ulf Hoelscher 1993
In the first half of the nineteenth century, Louis (Ludwig) Spohr acquired a highly substantial and outstanding reputation as a violin virtuoso, conductor, author, teacher and prolific
composer of almost 300 works. In terms of music history, he stands at the transition from the Classical to the Romantic period, but today he is usually only represented in concert programmes with
chamber music works (e.g. his Nonet in F major).
When studying his scores, one realises that Spohr declared himself to be a pupil of Mozart. His works are classical in form. Nevertheless, they are musically distant from Mozart's world of sound.
Spohr travelled widely and was also fortunate enough to meet numerous fellow composers who influenced him. These included Clementi and Field in St Petersburg, Meyerbeer and Mendelssohn in Berlin,
Beethoven in Vienna, Viotti and Cherubini in Paris and Weber in Stuttgart.
In the later nineteenth century, Spohr's post-classical style seemed too old-fashioned to those who had grown up with the intoxicating sounds of Wagner, Tchaikovsky, Richard Strauss and others.
At this time, Spohr's successful opera Jessonda op. 63 (1823), which was celebrated by Brahms and R. Strauss, remained popular and was often performed in Germany. In Great Britain, Spohr's
oratorio ‘The Last Things’ (1826) proved to be a favourite of provincial choral societies until the First World War.
During his many years as a musician, Spohr worked at an interesting turning point in the understanding of music. Music began to emancipate itself from the predetermined structures of princely
courts or churches and wanted to make a new contribution to the education of the individual, who no longer wanted to see his enlightened self-worth founded in his birth, but in his own ‘work’,
‘endeavour’, ‘elevation’ and ‘ennoblement’ (cf. Spohr's self-biography 1860/I, 31, 34, 1861/II, 404).
Among Spohr's works there are 18 violin concertos and 7 compositions for solo instruments and orchestra, five of which he called Concertantes. Among the concertantes published by Spohr
himself are two concertantes for two violins, a rare instrumentation in the Romantic period, namely No. 1 in A major for two violins and orchestra op. 48 and its counterpart, the Concertante No.
2 in B minor op. 88.
Spohr composed the Concertante No. 1 in A major for two violins and orchestra op. 48 at the age of 24, in the spring of 1808, during a creative phase in which he experimented with original
forms and complicated techniques. It comes across as a refreshing alternative to the usual repertoire, especially because it was written for two soloists.
Listen here:
1st movement
2nd movement
3rd movement
Listening guide:
The orchestral exposition slowly creeps out of the darkness, wind solos intoning a rising rhythmic motif in A major several times, leading to the first violent outburst. The motif turns out to be
the main theme, and announces itself again, this time in the cellos, answered by the winds. Thus the full orchestra leads over to the secondary theme, a swaying dolce theme with an accentuated
detour at the end, which now takes the lead in a fundamentally optimistic manner, only briefly clouded in a contemplative minor variant.
The orchestra's lead is thus made, and now the soloists take over the ascending A major main theme in unison octaves. Peacefully, together and relieving each other with glittering violin runs,
they illuminate this theme in luminous splendour. And again and again the violins seem to lose themselves in gimmicks of all kinds and high trills. In this way, they lead in a classically formal
manner to the lurching secondary theme, which they sing out and play around in two just as they do the first motif theme. With verve, the violins lead to the next orchestral interlude, which
imperceptibly leads into the development and allows an almost somewhat wistful third theme to emerge, the violins following contemplatively and in a minor key.
Then the rising motif follows again, fluctuating between major and minor and with virtuosic, wild runs. Imperceptibly, it leads out of the development until the violins take over the motif theme
again in decisive A major. The secondary theme, too, appears again in detail, but now in a new dark colouring. Then the violins, together with the orchestra, rush forward in a spirited rush to
the conclusion of this life-affirming movement. Throughout the movement, Spohr succeeds in giving sufficient personality to the wind parts in addition to the virtuoso violins.
A dreamlike melody filled with poignant semitones, always played on the dark G-string of the violins, opens a mystical space, and thus opens the central Larghetto, for me one of Spohr's most romantic slow movements, which was also described by the music writer Hartmut Becker as "a musical gem of a special kind". After a brief hesitation in the music, a middle section follows, characterised by a running orchestral pizzicato, over which the violins let all their sweetness of thirds and sixths ring out. Then, in the third part, the dreamlike melody in the string orchestra sound recalls the beginning again, the violins play excited semiquavers, but the simple C major conclusion reconciles.
Following the example of the classics Haydn and Mozart, here is the Rondo Dance of a violin concerto. The theme is teasing and jocularly buoyant. This cheerful finale goes without saying, is rich in gallant tones (and animating horns). Every now and then, a special orchestral effect follows, which caused particular astonishment in Spohr's day. A harsh interlude rides in between, but the violins celebrate their skills. Again and again, as one would expect from a rondo, the teasing, dallying rondo theme comes in and leaves us in high spirits.
Louis Spohr's best-known violin concerto is undoubtedly Concerto No. 8 (in A minor ‘In the form of a song scene’). Spohr's most compositionally accomplished violin concerto is Concerto No. 7
in E minor, at least according to connoisseurs of all Spohr's works. However, Spohr's least known and best violin concerto is Concerto No. 9 in D minor. After all, Spohr included the violin part
of this concerto in his own ‘Violin School’ and wrote a second part to accompany it. Spohr wrote this concerto in D minor in 1820 for his own Europe-wide travelling activities as a solo
violinist. From 1822 and his appointment to Kassel, he concentrated more on his conducting activities and musical life in Kassel.
Listen here:
Movement 1
Movement 2
Movement 3
Listening companion:
A longer orchestral exposition repeatedly introduces a rhythmically concise D minor theme that moves forwards and upwards and immediately answers it with a soft dotted fade-out. This motif
characterises the orchestral introduction until the violin begins its solo episode with a rapid chromatic run-up and opens its lyrical striving with a theme that resembles the echo of the
orchestral main theme. In this way, the violin solo establishes a continuing contrast to the pathetically serious orchestral opening. After elegant figurations, the solo violin introduces the
actual second lyrical theme, whose concise motif is immediately repeated - effectively an octave lower.
The orchestra then marks the beginning of the development section with full force, confronting and interweaving the concise main motif and the lyrical secondary themes of the violin.
The main motif appears again in the recapitulation, but now in D major. Spohr's musical idea of elevating and ennobling the spirit can also be heard in the increased recurrence of the lyrical
secondary themes. Spohr deliberately renounces a purely external, self-expressive cadenza for the solo violin. The music leads directly to an effective and self-determined concerto conclusion.
The Adagio also begins resolutely active, as in the first movement, before leading into a wistful, romantic melody accompanied by a pizzicato bass and expanding into a noble song that uplifts the
spirit and mind.
A brief excited interlude is only a brief disturbance and distraction before the music can lyrically concentrate again on its task of ennobling the violinist and listener together. The melody
rises beautifully until it quietly fades away.
If listeners want to follow the idea of this music, this Adagio may remind them of a sentence from Spohr's autobiography, where he says that he cannot imagine bliss in the mere contemplation and
worship of God; rather, the spirit must also be able to strive and work beyond, and there must also be music there, although it will be different from ours (cf. Selbstbiographie II, 1861, 404).
A horn calls out of the silence and awakens the violin to an enchanting rhythmic dance that melts into double stops. The orchestra accompanies pizzicato and discreetly, which encourages the
violin to continue its serenade with delight.
The orchestra then leads just as discreetly into the first couplet of this rondo movement. In this couplet, the violin takes centre stage again with a series of bold and virtuoso leaps, leading
to a variation of its dance theme and virtuoso additional figures. Only an energetic interjection from the orchestra leads the violin back to its enchanting theme.
After a further orchestral transition, a second couplet follows. Once again, the violin leaps wide, again free variations on the dance theme and further virtuoso figurations, before the charming
little dance returns and wants to be nothing other than music.
An orchestral coda then gives the solo violin an original final appearance, of course once again with virtuoso double-stop magic.