Géza Frid: Concerto for two violins and orchestra op. 40 (1952)
Géza Frid
Born 25 January 1904 in Máramarossziget, Austria-Hungary;
died 13 September 1989 in Beverwijk, Netherlands
First performance:
7 Nov. 1952 by the dedicatees Herman Krebbers and Theo Olof
Recordings:
Herman Krebbers and Theo Olof (1952)
Jeanne Lemkes-Vos and Bouw Lemkes (concert recording of unknown date)
Géza Frid left Hungary for good in 1929, where he had received his musical training from his teachers Kodaly (composition) and Bartok (piano). He was increasingly exposed to the repression of Miklós Horthy's fascist, anti-Jewish regime. He settled in the Netherlands at the invitation of his friend and violinist Zoltán Székely. As a stateless Jew, however, he once again had to fear deportation and extermination in Holland and was unable to perform in public during the Nazi occupation. It was only after the Second World War that he was granted Dutch citizenship in 1948 and was finally able to lead a free musical life as a pianist and composer. He became one of Holland's leading contemporary composers. In 1989, at the age of 85, he died in a tragic fire accident in an old people's home. Since his escape from Hungary, he remained in contact with Bartok, Kodaly and the Hungarian music scene, but as a composer he was also influenced by Debussy, Ravel and neoclassicism. For a long time he was one of the most frequently performed composers in Holland, but the development of music in the post-war period increasingly made him one of the many forgotten composers. Only recently has the quality of his music been rediscovered.
The oeuvre of this "Hungarian Dutchman" comprises more than 100 works. Frid's son, Arthur Frid, commented on the style of Géza Frid's diverse compositions: he had "a pronounced rhythmic
sense", he often used contrasts and possessed "a melodic imagination that is firmly rooted in the music and folklore of his homeland".
One of his most successful works was the Concerto for Two Violins and Orchestra, composed in 1952. Everything is determined by the two: two violins, two movements with an introduction, each with
two themes, based on two musical traditions, the Dutch and the Hungarian-Romanian, and yet the work has an astonishing unity. After the premiere, the Algemeen Handelsblad wrote: The concerto is
‘a composition that finds its way to the listener's heart thanks to its simple structure and accessible themes.’ One could add: Like some of Ravel's pieces, it combines musical modernity with
rhythmically captivating directness.
Géza Frid himself introduced his concert with the following words: «The work owes its creation to the Hungarian-American conductor Antal Dorati who, struck by the exceptional unity of
vision and style of Herman Krebbers and Theo Olof, proclaimed his amazement that no Dutch composer had as yet seized the opportunity to compose a concerto for the unique duo. Everything,
remarkably enough, is doubled in this concerto: there are two soloists and also two movements, each being preceded by an introduction. Both movements contain two principal themes and each
movement concludes with a coda in which the two themes are combined. The first movement (Andantino pastorale) is written in sonata form and contains nostalgic flowing lines; the second movement
(Allegro molto) is in total contrast, with Romanian and Hungarian folk elements – youthful memories from Maramures, the region of my birth. The quoted music it contains can be regarded as a
rhapsodic adventure in the past” (Géza Frid).
Listen here:
Movement 1
Movement 2
Listening companion:
I. Introduzione (decisamente) – Andantino pastorale
Muffled timpani rhythms for the introduction, over which the two violin parts rhythmically tear their triple stops, which soon dissolve into rolling double runs and lead to the first theme of the movement, a pastoral 6/8 andantino. This catchy theme with lingering fourths is played alternately by the high and low strings. A seductively beautiful melody in the flute then suddenly rises above its peaceful fade-out. The low strings take over this second theme, but then the musical action comes to a standstill. First the flutes, a bassoon and then a horn raise their voices questioningly, the flutes remain slightly disorientated.
Only the canonic entry of the two solo violins with the repetition of the first pastoral theme calms the mood. But the lingering is only brief: startled by the orchestra, the two violins become
agitated and only find their way out when they remember the second theme. First the second violin plays it in the highest register, the first lingers in accompanying figures, then the orchestra
repeats the second theme. But then the music splinters again, the clarinet, horn and flutes remain with relics of the original themes.
The first violin then resolutely enters anew with an energetic, folkloristic violin theme, followed by the second violin and the orchestra, which also enters energetically in the basses. A kind
of development follows. Motifs and rhythms are played with and against each other. In a tranquillo phase, violin harmonics duet with the brilliant solo flute.
A lively orchestral tutti, followed by a solo by the two violins, then leads to the resumption of the second theme, first by the second violin alone, but then together in unison with the two
violins. Once again, the two violins dissolve into a playful back and forth until the timpani and the triple stops from the beginning return in a new contrast and lead to a double cadenza by the
soloists, which is particularly striking due to a longer pizzicato section.
When the orchestra quietly rejoins the violins, the violins take over the opening theme in a calm, transfigured manner. The horn and bassoon remind us of what we have heard, while the duet of the
two violins unites the two themes of this movement in a magically atmospheric fade-out.
II. Introduzione (liberamente – quasi marcia) - Allegro molto
The second movement also begins with a long, preluding introduction, albeit not initiated by the two solo violins, but by the clarinet in a seemingly free improvisation style. Then, however, the first violin energetically takes over from the clarinet, the second violin follows and together they prepare us for an as yet unknown movement in a virtuoso prelude, harmonically underpinned and supported by the orchestra. Finally, after energetic timpani triplets, the two violins plunge into a wild Hungarian-Romanian folkloristic violin allegro molto. The two violins set the tempo, while the orchestral tutti takes over the impetus. When this slows down somewhat, the two violins prominently quote the beginning of a baroque motif - immediately familiar to violin fans - before conjuring up a moment of tenderness in this propulsive music with a vocal melody.
However, the infectious drive of this folklore-based movement soon resumes. The striking chords of the two violins sound like they come from one instrument. Like a rhapsody, the orchestra and
violins add their folkloristic material to and with each other, and the tender melody also reappears. But then the two violins finally seem to stray into the Baroque era, quoting Bach's famous
double concerto.
A glaringly dissonant orchestral chord interrupts this quotation and exposes this fusion of art music and folklore as a game. The folkloristic dance immediately takes off furiously towards an
effective ending. Two glissandi from the solo violins at the very end, a wink, so to speak, and this ‘rhapsodic adventure into the past’ (Géza Frid) is over.