The work was created in 1806, soon after Fourth Symphony and Piano Concerto No. 4, and parallel to Quartets Op. 59. After its Viennese premiere by Franz Clement (23 December 1806), critics complained of tedious repetitions of “vulgar fragments.” It should be remembered that this Violin Concerto, clearly transcending the genre’s boundaries of the time, is a mysterious work and one difficult In reception as well as in performance.
• The time of its first movement (Allegro ma non troppo) is the initial tempo of Ninth Symphony and the masterpieces of the latter half of the century, the quasi-brucknerian “nicht zu schnell.” Until then, Beethoven held on to Allegro con brio; here, time seems to flow according to the rhythm of natural phenomena. It is kept by five steady beats of the kettledrums, the structural axis of the section and its sole source of energy. For neither the main hymnic theme that seems to echo Dona nobis pacem in Haydn’s Harmoniemesse, nor the singing second theme – both are diatonic, simple in rhythm, initiated legato by a chorus of winds – serve to develop the movement: “they also serve who” are only there to be contemplated. Indeed, their essence is to remain in unchanged form – hence the repetitions, which also concern both the simple motives of the bridge and the epilogue, and entire structures. This is further evident in the character of the solo part. Its fluent figurations, mingling with bassoons or clarinets into a peculiar complex of colour, serve – again! – only to colour the expression of the melody. At the end of the development, the solo violin usher in a completely new idea (in G minor), extended over a pedal structure of mild, extended notes and obsessive beats that slowly encompass the entire spectrum of sound. At this point, only once in the entire concerto yet with unusual power, the growth of tension paves the way for the climax of the main theme. Recapitulation has a lively mood; the tone of the orchestra is fuller, octaves and chords appear in the violin part. Of the famous solo cadences of J. Joachim and F. Kreisler, the latter is ideally suited to the climate of the coming finale, the form of which is ample proof that Beethoven’s masterpieces are all unique and inimitable.
• Movement Two (Larghetto, G major) preserves the reflexive mood thanks to the tonal uniformity of all of its components, yet the strophic theme itself arches all the way to F sharp major. The form is first developed in variations, yet a decisive repetition of the theme in the orchestra is followed by a fantastic accompanied cadenza with a new motivic episode. The original order recurs for a while in the third variation of the solo voice over a pizzicato theme, only to recede before an improvisational narration of the cadenza.
• A recitative bridge leads straight on to the third movement (Rondo. Allegro), the expression of which is modelled by song-like intonations. The violin ushers in a vigorous refrain that could fit in quite well into a dancing song. It is again strictly diatonic and, similarly to the bridge intoned by the horns, with “hunting music” connotations. The initial couplet (A major) carries on the mood of the refrain, while the second (G minor) is a beautiful ballad-like song, conducted by the violin dialoguing with a bassoon. The solo part becomes increasingly impressive towards the end, while the colours of the orchestra bring to mind Pastoral Symphony. This feeling is enhanced by a striking and, at the same time, a subtly witty coda that follows after a short cadence: this is a Beethoven without his titanic mask, intent on the voice of nature with a deeply human curiosity.
Maciej Negrey