Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D Major, Op. 77
Pörtschach-am-See, a picturesque place in Lower Austria, on the Wörthersee, near the Italian frontier, appealed to Brahms as ideal for a summer holiday. To Hanslick he once wrote that the air at Portschach was so charged with melodies that he must “be careful not to tread on them.” There he began the D major symphony and composed (in 1878) the violin concerto (also in D major).
And even now, with his characteristic modesty and still uncertain about the value of his own work, he could say in a letter to Elisabeth von Herzogenberg, the day announced for the first performance of the violin concerto being only a fortnight away: “Joachim is coming here and I shall have a chance to try the concerto through with him and so to decide for or against a public performance.”
Hanslick once quite justly called this concerto “the ripe fruit of the friendship between Joachim and Brahms.” For Joachim it was written and to him it stands dedicated. He, furthermore, was the soloist when at a Gewandhaus Concert in Leipzig, on January 1, 1879, it was given to the world. A local reviewer, on good terms with both the composer and the violinist, remarked after the first performance that only too evidently Joachim found the solo part extremely difficult.
The influence of Joachim on the concerto must have been considerable, for Brahms often consulted him with regard to the practicability of this or that passage, and he supplied not only a cadenza but the fingering and the indications for bowing as well. Subsequently Joachim went still further. After he had played the concerto a number of times in public, he advised Brahms to make alterations in the score that he thought were required, and Brahms consented to the alterations before the concerto was published in October, 1879. To Brahms Joachim wrote from London, where he had performed the work twice with the Philharmonic Society:
“With these exceptions the piece, especially the first movement, pleases me more and more. The last two times I played without notes. That a solo composition has been performed at two London Philharmonic Concerts in succession has happened in the history of the society only once, when Mendelssohn played his G minor piano concerto (manuscript).”
It has been pointed out that Brahms’s biographers disagree about the reception accorded the violin concerto at the première. Florence May quotes Dörffel, critic of the Leipziger Nachrichten, as follows: “Joachim played with a love and devotion which brought home to us in every measure the direct or indirect share he has had in the work. As to the reception, the first movement was too new to be distinctly appreciated by the audience, the second made considerable way, the last aroused great enthusiasm.”
Max Kalbeck, a devotee of Brahms, declares: “The work was heard respectfully, but it did not awaken a particle of enthusiasm. It seemed that Joachim had not sufficiently studied the concerto or he was severely indisposed. Brahms conducted with visible excitement.”
J. A. Fuller-Maitland emphasizes Brahms’s going back to the tradition of the older concerto form in giving a long exposition of the material of the first movement before the entry of the solo instrument. “When the violin does come in, it is with a kind of breathless passage, on which there was some discussion between the composer and Joachim.
“We cannot fail to trace in the passages for solo the special points in which Joachim was without a rival, such as the handling of several parts and other things. The absence of the slightest trace of passages written for mere effect is as characteristic of the player as of the composer; and, like the other concertos, the work for violin is to be judged first and foremost as a composition, not as a means of display.
“Occasionally it may have happened that in the desire to avoid the meretricious Brahms allowed himself to make the violin part so harsh as almost to repel the general public at first; even in the short time since the death of Joachim, who was, of course, unrivalled in it, the work has come increasingly into favor with violinists, and nowadays even the prodigies are bold enough to attempt it.”
The first movement of the concerto (Allegro non troppo, D major, 3-4) has a chief subject of idyllic nature, announced by violas, ’cellos, bassoons, and horns. The peak of the movement comes with the merging of the cadenza into the return of the first subject.
The second movement (Adagio, F major, 2-4) has been compared to a serenade or a romanza. The principal melody is sung first by an oboe, then in altered form by the solo violin,
which also introduces an emotional and highly ornamented second theme. After extended development the original melody comes back in the solo instrument.
The finale (Allegro giocoso, ma non troppo vivace, D major, 2-4) is a rondo on three themes, demanding brilliant execution from the soloist. Compact in its formal body, the movement ends in an elaborate coda. Fuller-Maitland points out the Hungarian flavor of this finale, “as if a dedication to the great Hungarian violinist were conveyed in it.”