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drplaceboIt's Forgotten Masterpiece Friday!
Once again, I'm going to chamber music I played at CalCap.
For most composers, even those among the pantheon of all-time greats, Opus 1 is a minor, often rather forgettable piece. It may hint at what is to come, but is rarely a masterpiece in itself -- after all, in most cases, it is the composer's first published work. There are exceptions, of course. Rachmaninoff's first piano concerto comes to mind as having stood the test of the time, as do the Paganini Caprices and Schubert's song "Der Erlkönig."
And arguably, Ernő Dohnányi (1877-1960) should be a contender for best first-published-piece in music history, with his first piano quintet. Today he is relatively obscure except as the grandfather of longtime Cleveland Orchestra music director Christoph von Dohnányi, but during his lifetime Ernő Dohnányi (who used the German name Ernst von Dohnányi for most of his career) was often compared to Brahms. He may have been forgotten because of own his conservative musical style, in contrast to his fellow countrymen and contemporaries Bartók and Kodály -- which may be somewhat ironic given that in his career as a conductor, he was a key figure in promoting the work of both composers.
An extra side note: Dohnányi was later recognized as a hero of the Hungarian Holocaust resistance, for helping dozens (some sources say hundreds) of Jewish musicians escape from Germany and Austria to Switzerland or the United States; his German-born son Hans, the father of modern-day conductor Christoph, was executed for his role in the Stauffenberg plot to assassinate Hitler.
Dohnányi composed his first piano quintet in 1895, as a 17-year-old first-year student at the Royal National Hungarian Academy of Music. He did not stay long at conservatory: after less than three years, he was granted permission to take final exams without completing his course of study, and graduated with high honors. His quintet, which had earned high praise from Brahms himself, was perhaps the main reason why. Brahms showed his enthusiasm for the piece by recommending it to his publisher and by arranging for a performance in Vienna shortly after its premiere in Budapest.
And Brahms's reaction was well justified. The quintet is bold, passionate, and technically well executed from beginning to end. The first movement alternately presses urgently and soars majestically, starting with a striking C minor theme that returns in C major to crown the finale. The second movement, a scherzo, takes its inspiration from the fiery Czech furiant, but broods as much as it dances. The coda to the scherzo movement is especially noteworthy, as it weaves together the scherzo theme and the almost Schubertian trio in a surprisingly smooth manner. After an elegiac slow movement, the finale is Dohnányi's nod to his Hungarian roots, with a strutting, foot-stomping rondo theme in 5/4 time alternating with a whole series of flights of fancy: one lyrical, one fugal, one even hinting at a Viennese waltz. The opening theme of the entire piece returns at the end, but in the major key, triumphant rather than urgent and impulsive, followed by a grand final restatement of the rondo theme.
Once again, I'm going to chamber music I played at CalCap.
For most composers, even those among the pantheon of all-time greats, Opus 1 is a minor, often rather forgettable piece. It may hint at what is to come, but is rarely a masterpiece in itself -- after all, in most cases, it is the composer's first published work. There are exceptions, of course. Rachmaninoff's first piano concerto comes to mind as having stood the test of the time, as do the Paganini Caprices and Schubert's song "Der Erlkönig."
And arguably, Ernő Dohnányi (1877-1960) should be a contender for best first-published-piece in music history, with his first piano quintet. Today he is relatively obscure except as the grandfather of longtime Cleveland Orchestra music director Christoph von Dohnányi, but during his lifetime Ernő Dohnányi (who used the German name Ernst von Dohnányi for most of his career) was often compared to Brahms. He may have been forgotten because of own his conservative musical style, in contrast to his fellow countrymen and contemporaries Bartók and Kodály -- which may be somewhat ironic given that in his career as a conductor, he was a key figure in promoting the work of both composers.
An extra side note: Dohnányi was later recognized as a hero of the Hungarian Holocaust resistance, for helping dozens (some sources say hundreds) of Jewish musicians escape from Germany and Austria to Switzerland or the United States; his German-born son Hans, the father of modern-day conductor Christoph, was executed for his role in the Stauffenberg plot to assassinate Hitler.
Dohnányi composed his first piano quintet in 1895, as a 17-year-old first-year student at the Royal National Hungarian Academy of Music. He did not stay long at conservatory: after less than three years, he was granted permission to take final exams without completing his course of study, and graduated with high honors. His quintet, which had earned high praise from Brahms himself, was perhaps the main reason why. Brahms showed his enthusiasm for the piece by recommending it to his publisher and by arranging for a performance in Vienna shortly after its premiere in Budapest.
And Brahms's reaction was well justified. The quintet is bold, passionate, and technically well executed from beginning to end. The first movement alternately presses urgently and soars majestically, starting with a striking C minor theme that returns in C major to crown the finale. The second movement, a scherzo, takes its inspiration from the fiery Czech furiant, but broods as much as it dances. The coda to the scherzo movement is especially noteworthy, as it weaves together the scherzo theme and the almost Schubertian trio in a surprisingly smooth manner. After an elegiac slow movement, the finale is Dohnányi's nod to his Hungarian roots, with a strutting, foot-stomping rondo theme in 5/4 time alternating with a whole series of flights of fancy: one lyrical, one fugal, one even hinting at a Viennese waltz. The opening theme of the entire piece returns at the end, but in the major key, triumphant rather than urgent and impulsive, followed by a grand final restatement of the rondo theme.