Program Notes
JOHANNES BRAHMS
CONCERTO NO. 2 FOR PIANO IN B-FLAT
MAJOR, OP. 83
Duration: ca. 46 minutes
Overview
Brahms was a complex person. The paintings and
photographs from his later years show him usually stern,
occasionally smiling, but always hidden behind that great
hedgerow of beard. He was capable of hurling forth truly
bitter insults — he called Bruckner’s works “gigantic snake
symphonies” — but he also regularly passed out pocketfuls
of candy to the little tots who followed him around Vienna on
his daily walks. He loved the simple, comfortable pleasures of
plain, abundant food, new wine and well-worn clothes, but
composed the most sophisticated music since Beethoven
and moved among the highest echelons of musicians and
society to dispense it. He could playfully disparage even such
a monumental undertaking as this B-flat Concerto as a “tiny,
tiny little piano concerto” and “a couple of little piano pieces,”
but was at the same time so serious about his work that he
became violent over any intrusion while he was composing.
One time, for example, a young man who had been trying
for years to catch a glimpse of the great master heard that
Brahms was working on the second floor of his (Brahms’)
vacation retreat. The man commandeered a ladder, climbed
to the second story, and silently looked in for a few minutes.
Brahms saw the face at the window, stormed over to it, and
threw the ladder into the street, with no little harm done
to the young man. Before he slammed the window shut,
he bellowed curses at the miscreant, and shouted that he
was never to be disturbed. Brahms was, indeed, a complex
person, brimming with seeming contradictions.
The contradictions that marked Brahms’ personal life
are reflected in the Second Concerto. This work, “sober,
reflective, philosophical” according to Milton Cross, is the
largest concerto ever composed in traditional, classical form.
(Busoni’s Piano Concerto is half again as long, but its unique,
hybrid form, which includes a men’s chorus, puts it out of the
running.) Vladimir Horowitz, who played and recorded the
Concerto with his father-in-law, Arturo Toscanini, called it the
greatest music ever written for piano, yet this majestic work
was inspired by two lighthearted, sun-filled trips to Italy.
In April 1878, Brahms journeyed to Goethe’s “land where the
lemon trees bloom” with two friends, the Viennese surgeon
Theodor Billroth and the composer Carl Goldmark.
Though he found the music of Italy ghastly (he complained of
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hearing one opera that consisted wholly of final cadences),
he loved the cathedrals, the sculptures, the artworks and,
especially, the countryside. Spring was just turning into
summer during his visit, and he wrote to his dear friend Clara
Schumann, “You can have no conception of how beautiful it
is here.” Still under the spell of the beneficent Italian climate,
Brahms sketched themes for his Second Piano Concerto on
his return to Austria on the eve of his 45th birthday. Other
matters pressed, however, and the Concerto was put aside.
Three years later, during the spring of 1881, Brahms returned
to Italy and was inspired by that second trip to resume
composition on the Concerto. The score was completed by
July. Whether or not the halcyon influence of Italy can be
detected in the wondrous music of the B-flat Concerto is for
each listener to decide. This work is certainly much more
mellow than the stormy First Concerto, introduced over
twenty years earlier, but whether that quality is the result of
Brahms’ trips to the sunny south, or of a decade of imbibing
Viennese Gemütlichkeit, or simply of greater maturity is a
matter for speculation.
What To Listen For
The Concerto opens with a sylvan horn call answered by
sweeping arpeggios from the piano. These initial gestures
are introductory to the sonata form proper, which begins
with the entry of the full orchestra. A number of themes
are presented in the exposition; most are lyrical, but
one is vigorously rhythmic. The development uses all of
the thematic material, with one section welded almost
seamlessly to the next, a characteristic of all Brahms’ greatest
works. The recapitulation is ushered in by the solo horn.
It is rare for a concerto to have more than three movements.
The second movement, a scherzo, was added to expand the
structure of this Concerto to a symphonic four movements.
In key and mood, it differs from the other movements of
the Concerto to provide a welcome contrast in the overall
architecture of the work.
The third movement is a touching nocturne based on the
song of the solo cello heard immediately at the beginning.
(Brahms later fitted this same melody with words as the
song Immer leiser wird mein Schlummer “My Sleep Grows
Ever More Peaceful”).An agitated central section gives way to
long, magical phrases for the clarinets which lead to a return
of the solo cello’s lovely theme.
The finale fuses rondo and sonata elements in a style
strongly reminiscent of Hungarian Gypsy music. The jaunty