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The Concerto
Ralph Hill's symposium on The Concerto is one of a series sometimes unofficially called The Pelican Programme Notes. It is a companion to The Symphony, edited in two volumes by Robert Simpson, and Chamber Music, edited by Alec Robertson.
From J.S. Bach to William Walton the composers of concertos are covered historically in the twenty-nine articles included in this volume, which deals with most of the well-known piano, violin and cello concertos of the modern repertoire. In addition there are chapters on the development of the concerto, from the concerto grosso to the classical and modern forms, and on musical variations.
Throughout, the contributions to The Concerto illustrate their 'programme notes' with a wealth of musical example.
From J.S. Bach to William Walton the composers of concertos are covered historically in the twenty-nine articles included in this volume, which deals with most of the well-known piano, violin and cello concertos of the modern repertoire. In addition there are chapters on the development of the concerto, from the concerto grosso to the classical and modern forms, and on musical variations.
Throughout, the contributions to The Concerto illustrate their 'programme notes' with a wealth of musical example.
- GenresMusicNonfiction
448 pages, Paperback
First published May 19, 1978
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October 28, 2024
My aim with this book was to read three chapters a week and listen to as many of the concertos discussed as I could obtain on second-hand CDs. I started with having several good examples of Bach's, such as the Brandenburg concertos, and have most of the Beethoven (obtaining the Triple, but not the Violin), all of the Chopin, Liszt, Brahms, Grieg, Sibelius, Rachmaninov, and Prokofiev, some of the Saint-Saëns, Tchaikovsky, Elgar, Ravel, and Bartók, and none of the rest, except 1 of the 18 Mozart concertos covered here over 70 pages (15% of the book).
I planned it would take me approximately 10 weeks, at 3 a week, and wanted by then to understand the concerto form's structure as exemplified by the (almost) hundred discussed, including formal terms like cadenza (a conversation between solo instruments and orchestra) and coda (the final conclusion to each movement), the sonata form upon which concerti are based, the 3 main types of concerto, and some of the technique terms like 'legato' (meaning 'tied together', musical notes played or sung smoothly and connected) and 'ostinato' ('obstinate', a motif or phrase that persistently repeats in the same musical voice), the rondo (a principal theme or refrain which alternates with one or more contrasting themes or episodes, also referred to as 'digressions'), and so on.
An ambitious aim, seeing as I do not read music and have had no training on an instrument, but you can of course follow the cited examples without being able to read music if you know the piece well enough and listen to it while reading. My survey of the concerto, which started seriously in 2016, interrupted by my degree, is now reasonably advanced in lay terms, and I wished to complete it to at least 50% (in terms of coverage given by this book) by the end of 2024. After which, it is a matter of learning more of those which have come to prominence in this secondary, broader survey.
Of course, I got stuck. On the section on Berg and 12-tone music! I knew I would. The most technical and longest piece in the book, I stumbled to understand any of it, and without music training this is an almost impossible and fruitless task. So too with the Mozart, of whose 18 examples discussed I have heard but 2, and didn’t take to those. I have never got, nor never will get Mozart. In the end it took me 13 weeks over 34 (7 months), with a 5 month break (I was burnt out by Berg). It would take about 4 days continuous reading and listening to complete this book with all of its examples; which, when you consider it takes 42 days (continuous, yet clearly an arbitrary act, but not measure of effort) to read all of Shakespeare’s works over a decade (interspersed with many other books and general living), is not such a big ask.
I listened to 44 concertos over a period of 6 months, out of the 95 analysed, I think a decent sampling.
The concerto, typically in the sonata form of 3 movements of Allegro-Adagio-Allegro (or Strong-Lyrical-Light), is, according to Tobin, a musical form where a solo instrument co-ordinates development of a couple of major themes (typically one in a major key, one in a minor key, or vice versa, typically neighbour keys separated by one sharp more or one flat less), the soloist exhibiting a dextrous degree of development and display.
Ernest Chapman (on Bloch, pp.315-326) also identifies the structure of the concerto as 'in the first movement, conflict; in the second, contemplation; and in the third, liberation' (p.316).
Certain forms of instrumental concerto can be attributed to specific composers (p.20):
Organ - Handel
Violin - Corelli - origins of the Concerto Grosso
Clavier - Bach - transforming the Italian violin school of Corelli and Vivaldi to the clavier.
Tobin's introduction to the concerto and its development cites 3 developmental types (p.9):
1) Concerto Grosso - late 17th and early 18th century - e.g. Bach's Brandenburg concertos - 2, 3, 4 + movements
2) Classical Concerto - reaching its peak with Mozart
3) Modern Concerto - effectively from Beethoven on.
The Concerto Grosso was based on the overture and suite (e.g. Bach's 7-movement Suite in B Minor, BWV 1067, with its long opening overture), deploying dance movements like the minuet, polacca and courante, and deployed solos of various instruments (concertante) in contest with and in concert with the tutti of an orchestra (ripieno), often by obsolete instruments like the violino piccolo (little violin) or quart-geige. The development of the sonata or symphony plan saw a move to a 3-movement design (the symphonic design introduced an additional scherzo), the sonata design perfected by Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. This consisted of the Quick-Slow-Quick plan (p.12):
I First movement
II Slow movement
III Finale
which actually meant more of a Strength-Lyrical-Light format.
I First Movement: This consisted initially of a tutti (all) orchestral introduction with a soloist instrument taking up the development of the two major themes, but was soon changed by Mozart whereby the soloist came in by the second bar to drive that development, instead of being subordinate to and mimicking the orchestra's dominant development. The typical development is a cadenza, an improvised or written-out ornamental passage played by a soloist or soloists, usually in a 'free' rhythmic style, and often allowing virtuosic display, after the orchestra stops playing, and after which the orchestra ends the movement. Mozart sustained the solo part in the closing of the movement with the orchestra in some concertos, and Beethoven continued this practice. The dominance of the solo cadenza is said to have commenced with Beethoven's 5th Piano Concerto in E flat major, Op. 73, the 'Emperor' (1809).
II Slow Movement: Written in a song form, usually with a slow pace, but with often rapid solo ornamentation, and even short cadenzas.
III Finale: Initially a rondo, or dance-like, with a gay, light theme - consisting of a principal theme (sometimes called the 'refrain', typically in the same principal key) which alternates with one or more contrasting themes, generally called 'episodes', but also occasionally referred to as 'digressions' or 'couplets'; some possible patterns include: ABACA, ABACAB, ABACBA, or ABACABA - this developed under Beethoven into a third-movement structure like the first movement development around the two dominant themes. The Concerto Grossi deployed the ritornello, returning to the principal theme in different keys (unlike the later rondo, stabilised by Beethoven, which returned to the original theme in the tonic key).
The concerto exhibits composer-performer virtuosity and combines contrast and repetition, competition with and co-operation between soloist and orchestra, tonal contrasts and variety of theme. The Modern concerto is built strongly upon the Classical concerto in the three-movement sonata form.
Bach's concertos are in the form of the Concerto Grosso, exhibiting the development of one thematic subject (p.18) enunciated in the ritornello (the return to the dominant/tonic theme), where a thematic idea creates an 'opposite' which it overcomes to return to the dominant idea, then creates another to overcome that, returning finally to the dominant idea in the final tutti (p.19).
Howes discusses 5, 3 for clavier, two for violin. I listened to 10 Bach concertos after reading this, the 6 Brandenburg Concerti, 2 for violins and oboe (one double violin), and the Italian Concerto for (harpsichord) piano. I understood how Bach's Concerti Grossi deploy the tutti (albeit with a cut down orchestra) to state the theme rather than as the solo instruments do of the later Classical/Modern Concerto, and the typically 3-movement structure (Brandenburg #1 is in the 4-movement sonata form with the dance structure in the final movement: Menuet - Trio - Polacca). I also listened to a couple of Fantasia-Fugues, thus hearing how the fugue, a contrapuntal polyphonic technique for 2 or more voices developing a subject/theme, is worked through. So I learned a few technical issues.
While Haydn is known as a prolific symphony composer (108 of them), he also wrote many concertos, of which many are lost or of dubious authenticity. They are for various instruments, some of them no longer appearing in the modern orchestra. Haydn is not one of those composers I ever got much from; I found his symphonies primitive and unmoving (I've probably heard about 6), and I found the Sinfonia Concertante of 1792 discussed here much the same.
Mozart also leaves me cold, by and large. There are 70 pages devoted to Mozart and I only listened to 2 of the 18 concertos analysed here - and that was quite enough. I left this section as a task until the end, more, I'm afraid, as a chore. I did watch 2 of them on the Prom (2022/28: The Magic Of Mozart At The Proms) revisited on BBC Four this autumn, but they didn’t move me to listen to more Mozart – though I do have my eye on Mitsuko Uchida’s complete piano concerto recordings – more as a completist exercise, though. According to King’s wonderful appreciation of him, there is clearly some beauty amidst this host of concertos.
Beethoven, on the other hand, is someone I have a lot of time for, and I have been listening more and more to his piano concertos in the past 8 years. I have always loved (most of) his symphonies, but his piano concertos were unfamiliar to me, but that changed when his 5th was included on a CD I bought of Hélène Grimaud playing something else, and I obtained Uchida’s set with Sanderling (recorded late ‘90s, released 2005). Yes, it was that stunningly beautiful Adagio of the 5th which started me listening to them, and for a while I found it tough to get going, only recently coming to know and love the 5th in total. Then I moved through the 4th, and so on, and the reward for many, many hours of listening to these piano concertos is more significant than giving the lesser symphonies (1st, 2nd and 4th) their due.
I also obtained the Triple for piano, violin and cello, which was encouraged by my newer acquaintance with the other piano concertos, and found it not the stuffy academic thing I had anticipated. I got it also because it had Schumann’s Piano Concerto on it discussed here. But Schumann again isn’t someone who has ever interested me, and who I shall probably not revisit.
Chopin and Liszt are for me two sides of the same coin, and while I have listened to their pairs of concertos only a few times, Chopin naturally stands out because of the beauty of that lyrical Romance which dominates his First. It is one of the most beautiful things you will ever listen to, competing, albeit in a much simpler form, with the symphonic pathos you get from Mahler, Sibelius and Rachmaninov. But viewed from the perspective of the concerto, it is only rivalled – equally –by the adagios of Beethoven’s Emperor and Rachmaninov’s 2nd, and Ravel’s.
Violin concertos as a family have never inspired me to give them much attention, and so the pieces devoted to them – the chapter devoted to Vieuxtemps, Bruch and Lalo, the three by Bach (one double), the three by Mozart, and those selected for Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Brahms, Saint-Saëns, Tchaikovsky, Dvořák, Elgar, Delius, Sibelius, Busoni, Bloch, Bartók, Szymanowski, Berg, Walton, Bax, and Moeran (no, me neither), passed me by. I know this will be sacrilege, but I also feel such about cello concertos, which is an instrument I love, but, again, those sections discussed of Haydn, Schumann, Dvořák, Elgar, Delius, and the odd doubles (Bach, Brahms, Delius) and concertante (Haydn, Mozart, Bloch, Walton, Vaughan Williams), and viola concertos (Bartók, Walton) didn’t appeal, while Beethoven’s triple did. I also got something from the end section on Variations (Franck, Tchaikovsky and Dohnányi) which ended the book on Rachmaninov’s wonderful Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.
While some chapters on composers were a chore (Mozart, Berg), or disappointing (Sibelius, Ravel, Prokofiev), some were of surprising interest (Haydn, Brahms, who I grow hot and cold with in equal measure, Schumann, Delius, Bartók), but I obviously got most from following the analyses with pieces I know particularly well, and these inevitably come back to my favourites: often Bach, Beethoven’s later piano concertos, Chopin’s beautiful First, Tchaikovsky’s First, which I have known since a lad, Grieg’s, which is a recent development, all of Rachmaninov’s, though particularly, and naturally, that Second, and a growing appreciation for Prokofiev’s Third, Second and First. Ravel’s is a particular late love.
All the rest are new to me or of no special interest, but I would like to become better acquainted with the Brahms piano concertos (particularly the Second, which I find I have very mixed reactions to), Bliss’s piano concerto, and possibly the Vaughan Williams piano, and, as the outsider, Schumann’s, with whom I know little or nothing.
So, as a second serious pass at the concerto, this book was invaluable, and has certainly stirred up a greater love for the form, made me revisit a lot which I have but rarely listen to, introduced a couple of new ones immediately, and pointed me in directions which – given Time, that great commander of later life – I would like to enter a third phase with this special musical form, and, most especially grow to know and love more the ones I do already know and love well.
Most books do not give you all of this richness.
Thoroughly recommended.
Now, where can I find that elusive pair on the Symphony, my greatest love!
Yes, I love symphonies more than books.
Just.
I planned it would take me approximately 10 weeks, at 3 a week, and wanted by then to understand the concerto form's structure as exemplified by the (almost) hundred discussed, including formal terms like cadenza (a conversation between solo instruments and orchestra) and coda (the final conclusion to each movement), the sonata form upon which concerti are based, the 3 main types of concerto, and some of the technique terms like 'legato' (meaning 'tied together', musical notes played or sung smoothly and connected) and 'ostinato' ('obstinate', a motif or phrase that persistently repeats in the same musical voice), the rondo (a principal theme or refrain which alternates with one or more contrasting themes or episodes, also referred to as 'digressions'), and so on.
An ambitious aim, seeing as I do not read music and have had no training on an instrument, but you can of course follow the cited examples without being able to read music if you know the piece well enough and listen to it while reading. My survey of the concerto, which started seriously in 2016, interrupted by my degree, is now reasonably advanced in lay terms, and I wished to complete it to at least 50% (in terms of coverage given by this book) by the end of 2024. After which, it is a matter of learning more of those which have come to prominence in this secondary, broader survey.
Of course, I got stuck. On the section on Berg and 12-tone music! I knew I would. The most technical and longest piece in the book, I stumbled to understand any of it, and without music training this is an almost impossible and fruitless task. So too with the Mozart, of whose 18 examples discussed I have heard but 2, and didn’t take to those. I have never got, nor never will get Mozart. In the end it took me 13 weeks over 34 (7 months), with a 5 month break (I was burnt out by Berg). It would take about 4 days continuous reading and listening to complete this book with all of its examples; which, when you consider it takes 42 days (continuous, yet clearly an arbitrary act, but not measure of effort) to read all of Shakespeare’s works over a decade (interspersed with many other books and general living), is not such a big ask.
I listened to 44 concertos over a period of 6 months, out of the 95 analysed, I think a decent sampling.
The concerto, typically in the sonata form of 3 movements of Allegro-Adagio-Allegro (or Strong-Lyrical-Light), is, according to Tobin, a musical form where a solo instrument co-ordinates development of a couple of major themes (typically one in a major key, one in a minor key, or vice versa, typically neighbour keys separated by one sharp more or one flat less), the soloist exhibiting a dextrous degree of development and display.
Ernest Chapman (on Bloch, pp.315-326) also identifies the structure of the concerto as 'in the first movement, conflict; in the second, contemplation; and in the third, liberation' (p.316).
Certain forms of instrumental concerto can be attributed to specific composers (p.20):
Organ - Handel
Violin - Corelli - origins of the Concerto Grosso
Clavier - Bach - transforming the Italian violin school of Corelli and Vivaldi to the clavier.
Tobin's introduction to the concerto and its development cites 3 developmental types (p.9):
1) Concerto Grosso - late 17th and early 18th century - e.g. Bach's Brandenburg concertos - 2, 3, 4 + movements
2) Classical Concerto - reaching its peak with Mozart
3) Modern Concerto - effectively from Beethoven on.
The Concerto Grosso was based on the overture and suite (e.g. Bach's 7-movement Suite in B Minor, BWV 1067, with its long opening overture), deploying dance movements like the minuet, polacca and courante, and deployed solos of various instruments (concertante) in contest with and in concert with the tutti of an orchestra (ripieno), often by obsolete instruments like the violino piccolo (little violin) or quart-geige. The development of the sonata or symphony plan saw a move to a 3-movement design (the symphonic design introduced an additional scherzo), the sonata design perfected by Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. This consisted of the Quick-Slow-Quick plan (p.12):
I First movement
II Slow movement
III Finale
which actually meant more of a Strength-Lyrical-Light format.
I First Movement: This consisted initially of a tutti (all) orchestral introduction with a soloist instrument taking up the development of the two major themes, but was soon changed by Mozart whereby the soloist came in by the second bar to drive that development, instead of being subordinate to and mimicking the orchestra's dominant development. The typical development is a cadenza, an improvised or written-out ornamental passage played by a soloist or soloists, usually in a 'free' rhythmic style, and often allowing virtuosic display, after the orchestra stops playing, and after which the orchestra ends the movement. Mozart sustained the solo part in the closing of the movement with the orchestra in some concertos, and Beethoven continued this practice. The dominance of the solo cadenza is said to have commenced with Beethoven's 5th Piano Concerto in E flat major, Op. 73, the 'Emperor' (1809).
II Slow Movement: Written in a song form, usually with a slow pace, but with often rapid solo ornamentation, and even short cadenzas.
III Finale: Initially a rondo, or dance-like, with a gay, light theme - consisting of a principal theme (sometimes called the 'refrain', typically in the same principal key) which alternates with one or more contrasting themes, generally called 'episodes', but also occasionally referred to as 'digressions' or 'couplets'; some possible patterns include: ABACA, ABACAB, ABACBA, or ABACABA - this developed under Beethoven into a third-movement structure like the first movement development around the two dominant themes. The Concerto Grossi deployed the ritornello, returning to the principal theme in different keys (unlike the later rondo, stabilised by Beethoven, which returned to the original theme in the tonic key).
The concerto exhibits composer-performer virtuosity and combines contrast and repetition, competition with and co-operation between soloist and orchestra, tonal contrasts and variety of theme. The Modern concerto is built strongly upon the Classical concerto in the three-movement sonata form.
Bach's concertos are in the form of the Concerto Grosso, exhibiting the development of one thematic subject (p.18) enunciated in the ritornello (the return to the dominant/tonic theme), where a thematic idea creates an 'opposite' which it overcomes to return to the dominant idea, then creates another to overcome that, returning finally to the dominant idea in the final tutti (p.19).
Howes discusses 5, 3 for clavier, two for violin. I listened to 10 Bach concertos after reading this, the 6 Brandenburg Concerti, 2 for violins and oboe (one double violin), and the Italian Concerto for (harpsichord) piano. I understood how Bach's Concerti Grossi deploy the tutti (albeit with a cut down orchestra) to state the theme rather than as the solo instruments do of the later Classical/Modern Concerto, and the typically 3-movement structure (Brandenburg #1 is in the 4-movement sonata form with the dance structure in the final movement: Menuet - Trio - Polacca). I also listened to a couple of Fantasia-Fugues, thus hearing how the fugue, a contrapuntal polyphonic technique for 2 or more voices developing a subject/theme, is worked through. So I learned a few technical issues.
While Haydn is known as a prolific symphony composer (108 of them), he also wrote many concertos, of which many are lost or of dubious authenticity. They are for various instruments, some of them no longer appearing in the modern orchestra. Haydn is not one of those composers I ever got much from; I found his symphonies primitive and unmoving (I've probably heard about 6), and I found the Sinfonia Concertante of 1792 discussed here much the same.
Mozart also leaves me cold, by and large. There are 70 pages devoted to Mozart and I only listened to 2 of the 18 concertos analysed here - and that was quite enough. I left this section as a task until the end, more, I'm afraid, as a chore. I did watch 2 of them on the Prom (2022/28: The Magic Of Mozart At The Proms) revisited on BBC Four this autumn, but they didn’t move me to listen to more Mozart – though I do have my eye on Mitsuko Uchida’s complete piano concerto recordings – more as a completist exercise, though. According to King’s wonderful appreciation of him, there is clearly some beauty amidst this host of concertos.
Beethoven, on the other hand, is someone I have a lot of time for, and I have been listening more and more to his piano concertos in the past 8 years. I have always loved (most of) his symphonies, but his piano concertos were unfamiliar to me, but that changed when his 5th was included on a CD I bought of Hélène Grimaud playing something else, and I obtained Uchida’s set with Sanderling (recorded late ‘90s, released 2005). Yes, it was that stunningly beautiful Adagio of the 5th which started me listening to them, and for a while I found it tough to get going, only recently coming to know and love the 5th in total. Then I moved through the 4th, and so on, and the reward for many, many hours of listening to these piano concertos is more significant than giving the lesser symphonies (1st, 2nd and 4th) their due.
I also obtained the Triple for piano, violin and cello, which was encouraged by my newer acquaintance with the other piano concertos, and found it not the stuffy academic thing I had anticipated. I got it also because it had Schumann’s Piano Concerto on it discussed here. But Schumann again isn’t someone who has ever interested me, and who I shall probably not revisit.
Chopin and Liszt are for me two sides of the same coin, and while I have listened to their pairs of concertos only a few times, Chopin naturally stands out because of the beauty of that lyrical Romance which dominates his First. It is one of the most beautiful things you will ever listen to, competing, albeit in a much simpler form, with the symphonic pathos you get from Mahler, Sibelius and Rachmaninov. But viewed from the perspective of the concerto, it is only rivalled – equally –by the adagios of Beethoven’s Emperor and Rachmaninov’s 2nd, and Ravel’s.
Violin concertos as a family have never inspired me to give them much attention, and so the pieces devoted to them – the chapter devoted to Vieuxtemps, Bruch and Lalo, the three by Bach (one double), the three by Mozart, and those selected for Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Brahms, Saint-Saëns, Tchaikovsky, Dvořák, Elgar, Delius, Sibelius, Busoni, Bloch, Bartók, Szymanowski, Berg, Walton, Bax, and Moeran (no, me neither), passed me by. I know this will be sacrilege, but I also feel such about cello concertos, which is an instrument I love, but, again, those sections discussed of Haydn, Schumann, Dvořák, Elgar, Delius, and the odd doubles (Bach, Brahms, Delius) and concertante (Haydn, Mozart, Bloch, Walton, Vaughan Williams), and viola concertos (Bartók, Walton) didn’t appeal, while Beethoven’s triple did. I also got something from the end section on Variations (Franck, Tchaikovsky and Dohnányi) which ended the book on Rachmaninov’s wonderful Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.
While some chapters on composers were a chore (Mozart, Berg), or disappointing (Sibelius, Ravel, Prokofiev), some were of surprising interest (Haydn, Brahms, who I grow hot and cold with in equal measure, Schumann, Delius, Bartók), but I obviously got most from following the analyses with pieces I know particularly well, and these inevitably come back to my favourites: often Bach, Beethoven’s later piano concertos, Chopin’s beautiful First, Tchaikovsky’s First, which I have known since a lad, Grieg’s, which is a recent development, all of Rachmaninov’s, though particularly, and naturally, that Second, and a growing appreciation for Prokofiev’s Third, Second and First. Ravel’s is a particular late love.
All the rest are new to me or of no special interest, but I would like to become better acquainted with the Brahms piano concertos (particularly the Second, which I find I have very mixed reactions to), Bliss’s piano concerto, and possibly the Vaughan Williams piano, and, as the outsider, Schumann’s, with whom I know little or nothing.
So, as a second serious pass at the concerto, this book was invaluable, and has certainly stirred up a greater love for the form, made me revisit a lot which I have but rarely listen to, introduced a couple of new ones immediately, and pointed me in directions which – given Time, that great commander of later life – I would like to enter a third phase with this special musical form, and, most especially grow to know and love more the ones I do already know and love well.
Most books do not give you all of this richness.
Thoroughly recommended.
Now, where can I find that elusive pair on the Symphony, my greatest love!
Yes, I love symphonies more than books.
Just.
Displaying 1 of 1 review