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Ray Chen makes his Seattle Symphony debut with Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, streaming live from Benaroya Hall November 4 at 7:30pm PT on Seattle Symphony Live.

PIOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY

Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35
Born: May 7, 1840 in Votkinsk, district of Vyatka, Russia
Died: November 6, 1893, in St. Petersburg
Work composed: 1878
World premiere: December 12, 1881, in Vienna, with the Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Hans Richter and featuring soloist Adolf Brodsky

What to Listen For:
After a brief but beguiling introduction, the opening movement combines romantic melody and irresistible élan. Tender lyricism rises to the fore in the sweet and melancholy Andante before yielding to boundless energy and virtuosity in the exuberant finale.

In 1878, Tchaikovsky took a much-needed vacation to restore his failing spirits and mental health. After enjoying the blandishments of Switzerland, Paris, Italy and Vienna, he stopped in Clarens, Switzerland, on his way back to the Russian homeland. In Clarens, he read through Edouard Lalo’s Symphonie espagnole with violinist Iosif Kotek, an erstwhile student of Tchaikovsky. Inspired by Lalo’s irresistible lyricism and exotic color, Tchaikovsky soon began composing what would become his much-loved Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35. Work proceeded quickly; indeed, he sketched the entire concerto in 11 days and spent another two weeks working out the details of orchestration.

Kotek gave the composer invaluable advice but Tchaikovsky dedicated the new work to famed violinist Leopold Auer, partly because he feared that people would be suspicious of the composer’s relationship with his former student. This turned out to be a mistake: Auer — eventual teacher of violinists Mischa Elman and Jascha Heifetz — initially declared the demanding work to be un-violinistic and refused to perform it. (Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto was also met with initial rejection by its original dedicatee, Nikolaus Rubinstein. Happily, both Rubinstein and Auer came around!)

The opening Allegro moderato starts quietly, entrusted to only the first violins. A brief introduction anticipates the main theme; there is no extended symphonic exposition. The soloist presents the songlike initial theme against a simple accompaniment. The pace increases slightly and with a series of virtuosic flourishes, approaches the second equally lyrical theme, marked con molto espressione. The development is filled with violin acrobatics and fireworks, culminating in an extremely effective and difficult cadenza. The orchestra returns softly with a recap of the movement’s basic themes.

The composer had doubts about the concerto’s middle movement, and in only one day wrote a lovely replacement marked Canzonetta: Andante. (Luckily, he saved the excised movement, later publishing it as Souvenir d’un lieu cher, Op. 42, No. 3.) His mysterious longtime correspondent and patroness, Nadezhda von Meck, critiqued the Andante severely, but Tchaikovsky rightly stuck to his guns; this beguiling movement never fails to charm audiences old and new.

A fiery orchestral introduction to the Finale leads to a cadenza anticipating a dance-like, light-footed rondo tune, well suited to symphonic development. Throughout this concluding movement, Tchaikovsky exploits the violin’s capacity for brilliance and agility, using the sustained melody of the episodes chiefly as a foil for the dazzling scales and dizzying leaps of the solo. The eminent and powerful Viennese critic Eduard Hanslick dismissed this energetic movement as “brutal and wretched,” adding that Tchaikovsky's concerto, “…gives us, for the first time, the hideous notion that there can be music that stinks to the ear.” Though this attack bothered the composer deeply — he carried the review on his person for months — his vivacious and completely unpretentious Violin Concerto has remained firmly in the Romantic violin concerto repertoire ever since.

DMITRI SHOSTAKOVICH

Symphony No. 11 in G minor, Op. 103, “The Year 1905”
Born: September 25, 1906, in St. Petersburg
Died: August 9, 1975, in Moscow
Work composed: 1957
World premiere: October 30, 1957, in Moscow, with USSR Symphony Orchestra conducted by Nathan Rakhlin.
U.S. premiere: March 17, 1958, Houston Symphony conducted by Leopold Stokowski

What to Listen For:
Like a history lesson in music, the Symphony limns a slow but powerful portrait of long simmering protest by the oppressed against heartless entrenched Tsarist power. Traditional Russian songs infuse the score, emphasizing the pain of the peasants and the cruelty of the Tsar, his minions and the palace guards.

Like Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov and Prokofiev’s Alexander Nevsky, Shostakovich’s cinematic Symphony No. 11 draws from dramatic historical events in Russian history. It is reasonable to believe that Shostakovich also had more recent history in mind, specifically the brutal Soviet response to the failed Hungarian revolt of 1956, which predates the Symphony by only one year. Operating by stealthily sidestepping overt expressions of disapproval towards Stalin, the four-movement symphony (performed without breaks between movements) portrays the pain and ultimate resolve of the long-suffering subjects of the Tsarist regime, utilizing well-known songs from Russian tradition and history.

The Symphony opens with an Adagio titled The Palace Square that incorporates two songs associated with famed political figures. The music begins quietly, evoking the Square in winter. After an introduction, the trumpet (initially muted) has an extended solo, with a timpani’s ominous triplet rhythm playing in the background. Though hovering silently, a mood of chilling expectation pervades the movement.

The ensuing Allegro—Adagio—Allegro—Adagio portrays the nightmare of January Ninth. Swirling figures in lower strings suggest mounting anxiety and tension as the crowd intones complaints about their treatment by the Tsarist forces. A sense of the crowd’s gradual forward movement leads to two fateful climaxes. Increasing dynamics and the addition of brass and timpani greatly heighten the sense of impending disaster and horror. A relentless and heartless pounding from the orchestra, with snare drum realistically imitating gunfire, limns a devastating image of heartless troops savagely attacking the protesters. The vision of utter desolation and a ghastly panorama of corpses brings this fiery movement to a haunting close.

The Adagio third movement, In Memoriam, begins very softly with pizzicato cellos and basses before presenting the famous revolutionary song used at Lenin’s funeral, “You fell victim,” in strings. Another futile uproar attempts to rouse the spirit of the crowd and draws material from the previous movement. In all, this dirge is one of the composer’s most deeply felt essays.

Marked Allegro non troppo, the finale, The Tocsin (“The Alarm Bell”), declaims its fervor with a forceful brass fanfare. One hears music frequently agitated, with brass and timpani often punctuating the busy textures. More than in the previous movements, this movement has a sweeping, almost Cecil B. DeMille epic quality. After building to a huge climax, the Palace Square music returns very quietly and ominously. An English horn enters with a mournful theme against shimmering strings. The protest music from the second movement returns to interrupt the doleful English horn section and launches the violent finale. Note that the composer employs a celesta to serve as the tocsin, a far cry from Tchaikovsky’s enchanting use of it in his Nutcracker Suite.

© 2021 Steven Lowe