None of these
concertos is new to disc but all are nevertheless welcome.
The Violin Concerto was written in 1876, just a few years
before that of Brahms, but it breathes a different kind
of air entirely. With the solo violin entering stealthily
there’s a lot of broken passagework very reminiscent of
Mendelssohn, some warm and romantic tunes and a good sense
of tension and release. The slow movement is warm, with
a splendidly timed move to the Allegretto scherzando that
sits in the middle. It’s crafted with real skill, an insider’s
understanding of the solo instrument and a consummate ear
for orchestral colour – try the orchestral pizzicati, the
buzzing lower brass and wind writing. But what it most resembles
is a pièce de concert. For all the craft and skill
it has an occasional, rather superficial character that
never digs very deeply and certainly makes no attempt either
to recall or to reflect the sensibilities embodied in the
great mid century romantic concertos. For all that it makes
a pleasing effect and so does the finale with its rather
Wagnerian horns and its hint of Schumann as the movement
gets into its stride. The Finale problem isn’t resolved
– too much repetitious writing – but it’s a work that leaves
an impression of skill and affection, if not in the end
memorability.
The Cello Concerto
followed three years later. It bears some kinship with the
kind of concertos written at around this time for Piatti,
Popper and Grützmacher – in fact it was to the last named
that it was dedicated, though the premiere went to the Danish
cellist Robert Hansen. Melancholy in places with an almost
immediate cadential passage (a sop to virtuoso prestige
I think and a miscalculation) this is a lyrical work that
thrives, if one can put it that way, on a rather autumnal
withdrawal. The orchestration is light, attempting to overcome
the cello concerto dilemma (how not to drown it), but persuasively
adept. The Canzonetta second movement is a delight – verdant
and delicious – and the finale light and frothy and none
too serious.
Finally we have
the rather later 1890 Piano Concerto. After a rather halting
start the writing becomes ever more fluent and lightly won.
If there are criticisms to be made they will probably centre
on the melodic material and the feeling one sometimes gets
that the orchestration is rather stitched around the piano
solo – instead of fusing organically with it. His central
movement is another Canzonetta and this possesses what Hartmann
did so well – a warm wistful quality that stays in the memory
even if the individual melodic lines don’t always do so.
There are plenty of ideas in the finale - a good role for
the cello principal for instance – and there is some idiomatic
writing for horns and trumpet. It’s a pleasurable work and
entirely consistent with Hartmann’s earlier concertos in
looking backwards rather than sideways, let alone forwards.
I listened to
this Super Audio CD on an ordinary set up which may account
for the rather swimmy acoustic set-up. This may sound perfectly
well when optimally set up; I mention it as a brief precaution.
As I said you will find these concertos elsewhere individually
but you won’t find them coupled together as here. Investigation
will not hurt.
Jonathan
Woolf
Christina Åstrand (violin)
[70.09]
