Mieczysław Samuilowicz Weinberg: Violin Concerto in G minor op 67 (1961)

Beginning of the 3rd movement
Beginning of the 3rd movement

Mieczysław Samuilowicz Weinberg
(also Wajnberg and Moishei Vainberg)
born 8 Dec. 1919 in Warsaw
died 26 Feb. 1996 in Moscow

First performance:

12 Feb. 1961

CD recommendations:
Kogan 1961
Ilya Grubert 2003
Linus Roth 2013
Gidon Kremer 2020


Shostakovich wrote to his friend Isaak Glikman after hearing this concerto for the first time in the Composers' Association that he was "impressed by the Violin Concerto by M.S. Weinberg, magnificently interpreted by the Communist violinist L.B. Kogan. It is a magnificent work. And I weigh my words." What better recommendation is there to revisit this work with a listening ear?

 

Weinberg, born in Warsaw in 1919, fled Poland in 1939 to Minsk and later to Tashkent to escape the Nazis, was living in Moscow at the time but never became a party member. Nevertheless, he celebrated fine successes in Moscow's best concert halls from the 1960s onwards. Until 1953 (Stalin's death!) he too was life-threateningly persecuted by the Stalinist system. Shostakovich repeatedly stood up for his friend and was also in lively exchange with him as a composer. Weinberg composed operas, 21 completed symphonies, sonatas and 17 string quartets. Like Shostakovich's First Violin Concerto, the Violin Concerto, first performed in 1961, has four movements rather than the traditional three. The soloist is constantly in action, virtuosically challenged. Whether one should understand this work from the biography of a Jewish refugee (cf. Fidelklänge at the beginning), or from the musical situation between one's own artistic will and adaptation in the Soviet era (Weinberg once said he was a student of Shostakovich, his "flesh and blood"?). Or even politically as communist-imposed optimism and inner emigration? And yet I hear something even different in this concerto than in Shostakovich. It is more unsettling, more existentially oscillating between being driven and having its own momentum, between the manic and the dreamy, despair and calm. Many say: a masterpiece, but many are unfortunately not even aware of it.

 

Listen here:

1st movement

2nd movement

3rd movement

4th movement

I  Allegro molto

Formally, this movement follows the classical sonata movement scheme, first a rhythmically wild, almost crude first theme (with echoes of Eastern European Jewish violin music, only more sinister), then a second more lyrical theme accompanied by celesta and harp. Regarding the coarseness, violinist Linus Roth once said: "There is something about his music that somehow always disturbs you". And really: the full-throated chords, the repeated motif fragments on low strings, the rhythmic wildness give the piece something manic, something morbidly searching, an expression of fear and threat. The violin feels driven, plunges into the wild development of the first theme and its fierce insistence, flees from the orchestra, which breaks out violently again and again, and increases in the madness of manic repetitions. The second theme, too, only slightly succeeds in calming the situation somewhat; this theme, too, remains searching, often slightly enraptured by celesta and harp sounds, seems glassy and cool. When the second theme returns in the recapitulation, one hopes for a fading, calming end, but once again the first theme rages, no chance of escape.

II. Allegretto

Beginning in a dark unison, rising and disappearing again, the strings of the orchestra prepare the entry of the solo voice. The muted violin (con sordino) immediately begins again with a manically insistent motif that repeats itself constantly, only somewhat more subdued, as if the psychologically distressed violin had been given medication, but something morbidly anxious, something disturbed continues to seethe. Woodwinds take over and mirror these long melodies of the muffled violin, as if the violin were hearing voices following it. But everything is always very indifferent, almost still at the end, before the violin then leads (formally in a kind of cadenza) to very high, glassy, but also expectant notes that lead attacca to the next movement.

III. Adagio

Then the violin sings a song, warmly underpinned by the sound of the strings, a song that also, but only very softly, contains these repetitive manic tones, but now calmly, almost dreamily internalises these tragic motifs, lifts them up, as it were. And three times, this singing in all pitches leads to a calm holding of the orchestra (a tam-tam is added), beautiful, like a spell on which the violin rests in the highest register, three times, and yet one is not sure how real this is, where it will lead.


IV. Allegro risoluto

But then the frenzy breaks loose again, a dance, joy or rather wild despair? The orchestra begins, is it a dance or a march, joy or violence ... the violin storms off ... again not without these magical motif repetitions in the melodies. A flute motif is followed by a quiet phase which still contains these repetitions, but calmly accompanied by an understanding orchestra. A certain weariness sets in. But then this march, the trumpet motifs, the timpani beats come again and again, pushing forward. The violin follows, trying to adapt, or is it trying to escape?  After several fierce, threatening timpani beats, the opening motif of the first movement appears again, but the violin flees into a G major dream world (of art?). It fades away very high on a G, received by a melodious major chord from the orchestra.


www.unbekannte-violinkonzerte.jimdofree.com

Kontakt

 

tonibernet@gmx.ch