Willy Burkhard: Violin Concerto op. 69 (1943)
Willy Burkhard
Born 17 April 1900 in Leubringen (Canton of Bern, Switzerland)
died 18 June 1955 in Zurich
First performance
26 January 1945 in Zurich, soloist: Stefi Geyer, conductor: Paul Sacher
Recordings:
Hansheinz Schneeberger 1971
Sibylle Tschopp 1997
There is growing interest in the rediscovery of composers who dominated the music scene regionally and, in some cases, internationally before the Second World War. Their innovations survived somehow hidden during the Second World War and were then marginalised or even forgotten at the beginning of the musical avant-garde after 1945. The Swiss composer Willy Burkhard is one of these composers. He studied in Bern, Leipzig, Munich and Paris. As a convinced Protestant, he contributed to the renewal of church music in his time, in particular with his oratorios ‘The Face of Isaiah’ (1934) and ‘The Year’ (1940/41), but he left behind a large oeuvre in all genres, from chamber music and orchestral music to opera (‘The Black Spider’, 1948), comprising 99 opus numbers. The Burkhard collection is now in the Paul Sacher Foundation in Basel.
Burkhard's life was not only affected and restricted by the Second World War, but also privately by a protracted lung disease. From 1933 onwards, he lived remotely and far away from the active music scene in the lung health resorts of Montana and Davos, before being appointed as a teacher of theory and composition at the Zurich Conservatory in 1942. Burkhard's unexpected, premature death in 1955 prevented any further development of his compositional approaches.
His 20-minute, single-movement but clearly three-part violin concerto was composed in 1943. Walter Labhard, a connoisseur of 20th century Swiss music, describes this composition as a combination of neo-classical musicianship with ‘a sound treatment of masterly transparency modelled on French examples. The composer uses an intervallic structure based on a sequence of thirds extended to the seventh and constantly varied secondary motifs to achieve a unity that is neither jeopardised by different expressive elements nor by the increased virtuosity in the final section."
The following remarkable letter excerpt from September 1939 serves as motivation to listen to this violin concerto by Willy Burkhard from 1943 today: ‘It is something special when someone tells me today that my music will still have a task to fulfil. I have said often enough in the last few days and weeks that it is now highly unimportant whether this or that performance takes place or not. [...] But in the end we only need to ask ourselves who means more to us, Hitler or Goethe, Goering or Schubert, Goebbels or Kant (to speak only of the Germans), and we are (sic!) not at a loss for an answer. answer. And it is very doubtful whether our spiritual goods can be destroyed, however bitter and black the future looks. Every now and then I feel quite funny when I write music instead of joining in and playing politics. [...] And - I can't help it - but somehow even such
even such bad and worst times must act as a stimulus!" (Willy Burkhard in a letter to the Indermühle family dated 12 Sept. 1939).
These lines are still highly topical in 2024.
Listening companion:
I. Very free, in the character of an improvisation. Allegro tranquillo
A string glissando, a high flute entry and the solo violin on the unfamiliar high D sharp result in a timbre of great artificiality, all the more so as the harp also joins in. The solo violin takes centre stage in thirds and quavers, only interrupted by further sonorous string/flute chords with harp glissandi.
After its recitative, the violin soon moves into an Allegro moderato and progresses alone with a strangely piquant theme over virtuoso double stops. The bassoon, clarinet and basses take over the theme and continue it in an almost threatening manner, the violin merely limping along. Finally, this limping, ambiguous allegro leads into the whole orchestra. When it exhausts itself, the violin - again animated by a harp glissando - plays further violin improvisations and introduces a new triplet allegro third motif. Cellos and double basses counterpoint the solo violin's playing and lead from the ordinary to a new ornate sound chord for the whole orchestra. From this, the orchestral violins now launch into their own improvised recitative, imitating the solo violin, so to speak, slowing down the thirds and leading directly to a lento.
II. Lento - Allegro - Lento
The horn and the bass strings of the harp play and repeat a monotonous theme descending in seconds. The upper part of the harp takes over the accompaniment in thirds. The violin enters softly with a tender but rhythmically uncertain song, while at the same time the bass strings of the harp and the horn insist on their shouting theme in a chaconne-like and penetrating manner. The scream theme swells menacingly from a soft piano, the plucking of the string basses and finally a second horn join in, seemingly choking off the violin's song. The violin flees expressively into high registers. Only when the monotonous screaming theme and the violin exhaust themselves in their almost breathless singing is the harp able to continue its sonorous accompaniment, transforming the exhausted Lento and finally providing it with the new oxygen of an Allegro in 12/8 time.
The harp movement is immediately taken over by the strings, then the bassoon and clarinet. They stabilise a moving 12/8 rhythm. Above this, the violin breathes again. It plays chains of rapid semiquaver figures. It is as if it is breathing again in the freshness of the sound of the violin, bassoon and clarinet together.
Once this one sound mixture has been used up, a new, almost chamber music-like mixture of a few instruments emerges: Horn and clarinet accompany a now more serene lento song by the violin with a new monotonous motif, supported by the harp. The violin sings its delicate and lilting melody in a new transparent sound. The clarinet takes over the finale and leads to the Allegro giocoso, improvising as it were.
III. Allegro giocoso - Adagio
The strings begin over relaxed pizzicati with a cheerful Giocoso theme, not exuberant, but rather grateful and confident after overcoming a crisis. The violin takes over the theme a fifth higher in the solo part and rejoices in its own freedom in a virtuoso rhythmic solo. The bassoon and clarinet then join forces to play an ascending accompanying motif. The gioco theme and the accompanying motif unite and come together in a variety of forms, horn calls are heard, a kind of fughetto of all the instruments is heard. After a brief pause, the harp returns with vigour, and it is even possible to hear the screaming theme in the harp to the excited violin playing the giocosa theme. Horn sounds join in, pure music, all full of new confidence. The orchestral violins play a crazy duet, the clarinet once again plays the accompanying theme. The bassoon then switches to the gioco theme, and finally the music calms down and gives the solo violin room for a cadenza which, despite its previous exuberance, plunges into contemplation.
The contemplation of the cadenza leads to a wonderful final adagio by the solo violin. Over the transfigured but transparent chords of the orchestral instruments and the harp, the violin loses itself mystically in the highest heights.
Is this contemplation a reminder of the crisis, is it fear or prayer in the face of the impending future, is it related to the war situation or to Burkhard's privately experienced lung disease? Art, sobered up in a time of crisis!