Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)

[Bonehelm]

Levine's Brahms cycle is very good, probably the best things I have heard from him on disc. The 3rd is particularly good and the Tragic Overture particularly tragic, almost apocalyptic. These readings are very rhtyhm driven and he makes the WP strings play with razor sharp precision. But they still don't lose their weight of sound and nuanced articulation. There is plenty of lyrical playing in there, too. As far as clarity and intensity are concerned, and this lyrical quality, this is probably only matched by Dohnányi's cycle with the ClevelandO, only here you get the authentic Brahms sound thrown in as well.

Solti/CSO's Brahms cycle is also competent. The strings might not be as Vienesse as their VPO counterparts, but as usual, the brass is outstanding (not like brass is a highlight of Brahm's symphonies but still). Bud Herseth is just legendary! His playing is the definition of "consistency".

[BachQ]

Music Review | New York Philharmonic
Inspired by Old Masters, and Each Other's Artistry

By ANTHONY TOMMASINI
Published: January 19, 2008




The pianist Leif Ove Andsnes was the soloist in a vibrant, brilliant performance of Brahms's Piano Concerto No. 2 in B flat. This was the first time this youthful Norwegian pianist and this veteran Italian maestro had worked together, and they seemed inspired by each other's artistry.

This imposing 45-minute, four-movement concerto, a relatively new work for Mr. Andsnes, is typically milked for all its might. In Sviatoslav Richter's classic 1960 recording with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and Erich Leinsdorf, the work emerges as dense, volatile and terrifying. Most pianists consider the piano part among the hardest in the standard repertory: thick with leaping chords, awkward runs and almost impossible scurrying figurations in double thirds.

Yet Brahms began sketching the piece while on vacation in sunny Italy in 1878. For all its storm and stress, he considered it a far more genial, pastoral and, in the finale, joyous piece than his turbulent First Concerto in D minor.

Mr. Andsnes, an Apollonian pianist, brought out what could be considered the score's Italianate qualities. He could not have had a better ally in this than Mr. Muti. They set a tempo in the first movement that kept the music flowing but allowed room for lyrical grace. When Mr. Andsnes broke into the tempestuous cadenza right after the first serene statement of the main theme by the French horn, every note mattered. The playing was clear, crisp, incisive, yet never aggressive.

In passages where Mr. Andsnes could highlight the lyricism of the music, he did so, supported by Mr. Muti. But when things turned agitated, as in the outburst of pummeling 16th-note piano chords in a furious F minor episode, Mr. Andsnes played with uncanny clarity and nimble articulation. Most pianists strive for sheer, driving power. The excitement here came from athletic vigor and accuracy.

The performance of the Scherzo conveyed the music's shifting moods, from passionate stirrings to lyrical pathos. Yet the pianist and the conductor kept the music surging in a coolly steady tempo. Textures were lucid; syncopated rhythms were true. In the Andante the Philharmonic's principal cellist, Carter Brey, played the solo theme with wistful, flowing beauty, never allowing the music to dawdle or turn sentimental.

In the dreamy development section when the piano leads the orchestra on a pensive journey through remote harmonic regions, Mr. Andsnes brought Impressionistic colorings and rare delicacy to the music. The pianist and the conductor found an impish spirit in the pugnacious surprises that keep cropping up.

Many pianists make a point of showing what a struggle it takes to perform this work. Mr. Andsnes played the piece while seated calmly, never bothering to unbutton his stylish suit jacket.

[Bonehelm]

What the crap is that Muti? He looks so old now!

[bhodges]

Music Review | New York Philharmonic
Inspired by Old Masters, and Each Other's Artistry

By ANTHONY TOMMASINI
Published: January 19, 2008




The pianist Leif Ove Andsnes was the soloist in a vibrant, brilliant performance of Brahms's Piano Concerto No. 2 in B flat. This was the first time this youthful Norwegian pianist and this veteran Italian maestro had worked together, and they seemed inspired by each other's artistry.

This imposing 45-minute, four-movement concerto, a relatively new work for Mr. Andsnes, is typically milked for all its might. In Sviatoslav Richter's classic 1960 recording with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and Erich Leinsdorf, the work emerges as dense, volatile and terrifying. Most pianists consider the piano part among the hardest in the standard repertory: thick with leaping chords, awkward runs and almost impossible scurrying figurations in double thirds.

Yet Brahms began sketching the piece while on vacation in sunny Italy in 1878. For all its storm and stress, he considered it a far more genial, pastoral and, in the finale, joyous piece than his turbulent First Concerto in D minor.

Mr. Andsnes, an Apollonian pianist, brought out what could be considered the score's Italianate qualities. He could not have had a better ally in this than Mr. Muti. They set a tempo in the first movement that kept the music flowing but allowed room for lyrical grace. When Mr. Andsnes broke into the tempestuous cadenza right after the first serene statement of the main theme by the French horn, every note mattered. The playing was clear, crisp, incisive, yet never aggressive.

In passages where Mr. Andsnes could highlight the lyricism of the music, he did so, supported by Mr. Muti. But when things turned agitated, as in the outburst of pummeling 16th-note piano chords in a furious F minor episode, Mr. Andsnes played with uncanny clarity and nimble articulation. Most pianists strive for sheer, driving power. The excitement here came from athletic vigor and accuracy.

The performance of the Scherzo conveyed the music's shifting moods, from passionate stirrings to lyrical pathos. Yet the pianist and the conductor kept the music surging in a coolly steady tempo. Textures were lucid; syncopated rhythms were true. In the Andante the Philharmonic's principal cellist, Carter Brey, played the solo theme with wistful, flowing beauty, never allowing the music to dawdle or turn sentimental.

In the dreamy development section when the piano leads the orchestra on a pensive journey through remote harmonic regions, Mr. Andsnes brought Impressionistic colorings and rare delicacy to the music. The pianist and the conductor found an impish spirit in the pugnacious surprises that keep cropping up.

Many pianists make a point of showing what a struggle it takes to perform this work. Mr. Andsnes played the piece while seated calmly, never bothering to unbutton his stylish suit jacket.

I heard this concert on Saturday night, and I must say, it was fantastic.  The Brahms was marvelous.  Andsnes and Muti seemed to have very good chemistry in this piece, and Muti's balancing of the orchestra was almost magical: Andsnes's every note could be heard.  One friend said he had never heard the piano part sound so clear.  The slow movement might have been the high point, with some gorgeous cello playing by Carter Brey (whom Muti acknowledged not once, but twice at the end), a pensive Andsnes and some incredibly soft playing from the ensemble. 

The rare Liszt From the Cradle to the Grave was also fascinating (and this from someone who doesn't usually enjoy Liszt's tone poems), and made a nice introduction for the white-hot Scriabin Poem of Ecstasy that ended it all.  Muti has such empathy with Scriabin's sound world, and the Philharmonic's brass section outdid itself.  The final crashing pages had the audience on its feet and cheering at the end.

--Bruce

[BachQ]

I heard this concert on Saturday night, and I must say, it was fantastic.  *** The rare Liszt From the Cradle to the Grave was also fascinating ***  The final crashing pages had the audience on its feet and cheering at the end.

--Bruce

It's been a full week, and I'm still not over my intense jealousy at your having attended such a "fantastic" and "fascinating" concert .......   0:)

[BachQ]

"Brahms playing doesn't get much better, with Masur displaying none of the stodginess that so often characterized his work. Indeed, his presence is less noteworthy for any obvious interpretive manipulations than for the fact that the music simply seems to play itself, effortlessly"

[ChamberNut]

I fear the wrath of the immortal, Ludwig Van Beethoven. 

From the start, he has been my undisputed favorite composer.  It wasn't even close.  That is, until now......

Enter Johannes Brahms.  I think I'm afraid to admit that Brahms may now be my favorite or equal favorite to LVB. 

I didn't think this day would ever come.   0:)

[MN Dave]

I didn't think this day would ever come.   0:)

Surely, you must need your head examined.

[ChamberNut]

Surely, you must need your head examined.

That's exactly what a friend of mine said also! 

[MishaK]

Solti/CSO's Brahms cycle is also competent. The strings might not be as Vienesse as their VPO counterparts, but as usual, the brass is outstanding (not like brass is a highlight of Brahm's symphonies but still). Bud Herseth is just legendary! His playing is the definition of "consistency".

But the same band sounds so much warmer and more colorful in Barenboim's Brahms cycle and in Giulini's 4th (though they sound even more edgy and shrill in Levine's cycle).

PS: proper genitive of Brahms in English is Brahms's (see, e.g., the NYT article above).

[MN Dave]

PS: proper genitive of Brahms in English is Brahms's (see, e.g., the NYT article above).

Well, it's certainly not Brahm's anyway.

[BachQ]

Max Bruch wrote this about Brahms:

Brahms has been dead ten years but he still has many detractors, even among the best musicians and critics. I predict, however, that as time goes on, he will be more and more appreciated, while most of my works will be more and more neglected. Fifty years hence, he will loom up as one of the supremely great composers of all time, while I will be remembered chiefly for having written my G minor violin concerto.

Brahms was a far greater composer than I am for various reasons. First of all he was much more original. He always went his own way. He cared not at all about the public reaction or what the critics wrote. The great fiasco of his D minor piano concerto would have discouraged most composers. Not Brahms! Furthermore, the vituperation heaped upon him after Joachim introduced his violin concerto at the Leipzig Gewandhaus in 1880 would have crushed me.

Another factor which militated against me was economic necessity. I had a wife and children to support and educate. I was compelled to earn money with my compositions. Therefore, I had to write works that were pleasing and easily understood. I never wrote down to the public; my artistic conscience would not permit me to do that. I always composed good music but it was music that sold readily.

There was never anything to quarrel about in my music as there was that in Brahms. I never outraged the critics by those wonderful, conflicting rhythms, which are so characteristic of Brahms. Nor would I have dared to leave out sequences of steps in progressing from one key to another, which often makes Brahms'modulations so bold and startling. Neither did I venture to paint in such dark colours, à la Rembrandt, as he did.

All this, and much more, militated against Brahms in his own day, but these very attributes will contribute to his stature fifty years from now, because they proclaim him a composer of marked originality. I consider Brahms one of the greatest personalities in the entire annals of music.

--- Max Bruch

FROM peterhuebner.com

[BachQ]

Brahms wrote of his own violin concerto:

"I will not find my true place in musical history until at least half a century after I am gone. Bach died in 1750 and he was completely forgotten until Mendelssohn revived him, more than seventyfive years later. And it was more than a hundred years after his death that Joachim succeeded in popularizing his monumental works for violin alone.

Also the stupendous Beethoven violin concerto was neglected for fully fifty years after his death until Joachim revealed its wonders to the musical world. No composition in our day has been more reviled than my own violin concerto; Joachim and I brought it out at the Gewandhaus sixteen years ago, and still the music societies, when they engage Joachim as soloist, do so with the stipulation that he must not play my concerto. I have put new vine into old bottles and the Philistines cannot forgive me for that. I know that the violin concerto will find its real place, but it will at least take five decades, and it is much the same with my symphonies, piano concertos and many other works."

                              Brahms

[paulb]

why was Brahms against  Wagner?

[Bonehelm]

why was Brahms against  Wagner?

Brahms, Mendelssohn, Schumann etc were conservative Romantics that favoured in keeping classical traditions in form and structure. They wrote absolute music that does not have a set background or story to it, as opposed to the progressive Romantics like Wagner, Bruckner, Mahler, Liszt etc who favoured in experimenting with more advanced techniques such as dissonant or even atonal harmonies, extreme chromaticism, and large scale works. The latter bunch wrote a lot of programmatic music that has a setting behind it (such as Liszt's invention, the symphonic poems).

[JoshLilly]

"Liszt's invention, the symphonic poems"


I find this a surprising statement.

Liszt was not the first to compose a symphonic poem, so it is not his invention. I don't know if he was the first to name it that, but he wasn't the first to do it. Not by a long shot. You don't even have to dip into obscure composers to find predecessors.

[BachQ]

"Liszt's invention, the symphonic poems"


I find this a surprising statement.

Liszt was not the first to compose a symphonic poem, so it is not his invention. I don't know if he was the first to name it that, but he wasn't the first to do it. Not by a long shot. You don't even have to dip into obscure composers to find predecessors.

I wonder what the earliest (first) symphonic poem was?  Perhaps the first concert overture (Beethoven's Egmont) ........

However, the first Russian symhonic poem was Glinka's Kamarinskaya 

[JoshLilly]

Considering there were composers writing pieces labeled "concert overture" before Beethoven's Egmont, this would also be surprising.

Glinka may have composed the first Russian symphonic poem; I've never heard one way or another. But I'd be very surprised if that were true. There were a lot of Russian composers prior to and contemporary with him; the odds of the single famous composer out of that fairly numerous lot being first is fairly unlikely.

[Mark G. Simon]

Liszt may not have been the first one to write programmatic orchestral works, but his symphonic poems brought about an important paradigm shift in 19th century music simply by the fact that he named them symphonic poems rather than concert overtures. In other words, to bring about change, the first step is to do something different, the next step is to recognize that one is doing something different.

It was said of Mendelssohn (I forget who said it, but it was a notable 19th century musician) that if only he had called his "Midsummer Night's Dream", "Ruy Blas", "Fair Melusina" and "Fingal's Cave" symphonic poems instead of concert overtures, he would have been recognized at the forefront of the progressive movement in music, instead of one of the conservatives. Indeed, the forementioned works of Mendelssohn display a knack for tone painting unrivaled until Wagner and Strauss. The underwater creature depicted in "Fair Melusina" sets a clear antecedent for Wagner's Rhine maidens. Wagner certainly had Melusine in his ears when he wrote the opening scene of Das Rheingold.

Liszt's symhonic poems, the ones that I know of, are never concerned with painting specific scenes in music, but rather use their titles to evoke generalized moods in the music. But, by discarding the designation "overture" and creating the new term "symphonic poem" he freed his efforts from allegiance to a sonata form framework (such as Mendelssohn maintained) and allowed himself to freely follow the form of his poetic idea.

[karlhenning]

A lot of Russian composers prior to Glinka?

Name some