The third sonata, that in D minor, opus 108, appeared two years later. On the whole it has more of the sternness one cannot but associate with Brahms than either of those which precede it. There are grotesque accents in the first movement, and also a passage of forty-six measures over a dominant pedal point, and even the delightful movement in F-sharp minor (un poco presto e con sentimento) has a touch of deliberateness. The slow movement on the other hand is direct, and the last movement has a strong, broad swing.
No violin sonatas show more ingenuity in the combining of the two instruments than those of Brahms. Mr. Thomas F. Dunhill in his book on Chamber Music,[55] chooses from each of them a passage which really represents a new effect in this field of which one would have thought all the effects discovered.
The concerto for violin and orchestra stands among Brahms’ supreme achievements, a giant among concertos matched only by that of Beethoven. It is not a matter for surprise that Brahms, who in many ways deliberately tried to follow Beethoven, and who even here chose the same key (D major) that Beethoven chose for his concerto, chose likewise the old-fashioned form of concerto. The work gains ponderance by reason of the long orchestral introduction in both the first and second movements. There is, likewise, as in the pianoforte concertos, too conscious a suppression of superficial brilliance. But what is this slight heaviness compared to the soaring power of its glorious themes? Truly the violin rises high above the orchestra as on wings of light.
The treatment of the violin relates the concerto to Joachim even more definitely than the dedication. It is full of the most exacting difficulties, some of which in the last movement gave even Joachim pause. The double-stops, however, and the frequent passages in two voices were, after all, effects in which Joachim was especially successful. Some of the close co-operation of the two great masters on this single great masterpiece is revealed in the correspondence which passed between Joachim and Brahms and happily has been preserved.
VIII
Turning now to music in its more recent developments, we shall find that each nation has contributed something of enduring worth to the literature of the violin. Certainly, high above all modern sonatas, and perhaps above all sonatas for pianoforte and violin, stands that by César Franck, dedicated to M. Eugène Ysäye. By all the standards we have, this work is immortally great. From the point of view of style it presents at their best all the qualities for which Franck’s music is valued. There are the fineness in detail and the seemingly spontaneous polyphonic skill, the experiments, or rather the achievements in binding the four movements into a unified whole by employing the same or cognate thematic material in all, the chromatic alterations of harmonies and the almost unlimited modulations. Besides these more or less general qualities, the pianoforte and the violin are most sympathetically combined, and the treatment of both instruments is varied and interesting. Franck’s habit of short phrases here seems wholly proper, and never suggests as it does in some of his other works a too intensive development of musical substance. In short this sonata, full of mystical poetry, is a flawless masterpiece, from the opening movement that seems like a dreamy improvisation, to the sunny canon at the end of the work.
This is by no means the only brilliant accomplishment of the French composers in violin music. Lalo’s Concerto in F minor, opus 20, and his Spanish Symphony for violin and orchestra, opus 21, must be given a place among the most successful of modern compositions. They were both composed between 1873 and the beginning of 1875. Both were dedicated to Sarasate, whose influence contributed not a little to their perfection of style, and who was the first to play them in public. The ‘Spanish Symphony’ was greatly admired by Tschaikowsky and apparently put the thought of writing his own concerto into his head. In a letter to Mme. von Meck, written in March, 1878, he showed a positive enthusiasm for Lalo’s work which had recently become known to him through the performance by the ‘very modern’ violinist Sarasate. And of Lalo he wrote that, like Léo Delibes and Bizet, he shunned studiously all routine commonplaces, sought new forms without wishing to appear profound, and, unlike the Germans, cared more for musical beauty than for mere respect of the old traditions. Besides these two concertos Lalo wrote within the next few years a ‘Romance-Serenade,’ a ‘Norwegian Fantasia,’ and a Concerto Russe, for violin and orchestra.
Sarasate seems to have stimulated almost all of the composers with whom he came in contact. Saint-Saëns wrote three concertos for violin and orchestra, opus 20, in A major, opus 58, in C major, and opus 61, in B minor, and dedicated all to Sarasate. Of these the third is the broadest in form and the most impressing, and is a favorite among its fellows as the second concerto for pianoforte, opus 22, is among the five works in that form. It was composed in 1880 and played for the first time by Sarasate. Saint-Saëns wrote besides these three concertos an ‘Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso,’ opus 28, a ‘Romanze,’ opus 48, and a ‘Concert Piece,’ opus 62, for violin and orchestra, and two sonatas—opus 75, in D minor, and opus 102, in E-flat major—for violin and pianoforte. There is also a brilliant Havanaise, opus 83, for violin and orchestra.
There is a sonata for violin and piano by Gabriel Fauré, opus 13, which has won favor, and which Saint-Saëns characterized as géniale. The year 1905 heard the first performance of the admirable violin sonata in C major of M. Vincent d’Indy.
Among the Scandinavian composers Grieg holds the highest rank, and his three sonatas for violin and pianoforte are among the favorite compositions for this combination. Their charm is like that of his other works, and consists not a little in the presence of a distinct national idiom which, until one becomes thoroughly used to it, strikes the ear with delightful freshness. The three sonatas are respectively opus 8, in F major, opus 13, in G major, and opus 45, in C minor. The last is a fiery, dramatic work. The two earlier ones are characterized by grace and charm. With the exception of the pianoforte concerto in A minor, Grieg showed himself nowhere more successful than in these sonatas in the treatment of form. His ideas are generally slight, and his workmanship delicate and refined. Hence he is at his best in short pieces. But the violin sonatas are on the whole well sustained, and the themes in the last of them, and particularly the chief theme of the first movement, have a breadth quite unusual in the great part of his music.