THE FLORIDA ORCHESTRA | 2019-2020 49
Program Notes
lengthy conversation between violin and orchestra
stretching for nearly half an hour. Like the four notes
that ring throughout Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,
the timpani strokes are heard in different ways
throughout, beginning with the strings in the
introduction.
This motif serves as the concerto’s connective
tissue. A luscious and serene larghetto offers a set
of variations against muted strings, and the soloist
works through a cadenza that leads directly into the
finale – an energetic gypsy-like rondo in 6/8 meter
bursting with arpeggios, double stops, scale runs,
and quick-silver plucked notes from the violinist.
Beethoven wrote no cadenzas for this concerto,
and over the years many violinists have added their
own, most playing those by Fritz Kreisler in the
outer movements.
Above all, the concerto is a work of breathtaking
beauty and a true partnership between soloist and
orchestra. Lamsma never tires of playing it, and
always strives to make each performance personal.
“The fact that I have such deep respect for this
music makes the challenge even greater,’’ she said.
“The greatness in this music is that I will always
continue to find new insights, because this is a
journey that will never end.’’
BÉLA BARTÓK (1881-1945)
CONCERTO FOR ORCHESTRA
Duration: ca. 38 minutes
By the 1930s, American orchestras were becoming
formidable artistic institutions that would soon be
as good as any in Europe. The big guns in Chicago,
Philadelphia, New York, and Boston accumulated
deep endowments and support, and musicians
were paid well – incentive to finish a career in
one place. All this translated to precise, well-oiled
groups that could turn on a dime and wax virtuosic
in the most challenging repertoire.
After moving to the United States from his native
Hungary in 1940, Béla Bartók was aware of just
how good American ensembles had become, and
decided to compose a new piece to showcase the
talent of these remarkable ensembles. Although
he was struggling with leukemia, he gathered the
strength to complete one last large-scale piece,
his Concerto for Orchestra, which he finished in
1944 on a commission from the Boston Symphony
Orchestra’s music director, Serge Koussevitzky.
As the title suggests, the work is an instrumental
tour de force, but also something else: a polyglot
of international styles that come together, like
musical immigrants, in a single voice.
“Almost every instrument in the orchestra has
a solo, even as the collective emotion swells,’’
notes music critic Alex Ross in his book The Rest
is Noise. “Bartók’s parting gift to his adopted
country is a portrait of democracy in action.’’
Bartók cast the work in five movements,
each contrasting the other. A darkly ominous
introduction seems to grow from some primeval
source and sets an anxious tone. Bartók called the
second movement “Game of the Pairs,’’ a chain
of five short, independent sections that each
pair two bassoons, oboes, clarinets, flutes, and
trumpets. A haunting “song of death’’ follows,
and then the concerto’s most surreal section, an
“Interrupted Intermezzo’’ that mocks through
sneering trombone slides the vulgar Nazi war
march of Shostakovich’s Leningrad Symphony.
The piece concludes with a life-affirming fugue
in 2/4 time that Bartók called a “whirling folk
festival.’’
TFO has proven its mastery of this work over the
years, including standout performances in 1994
under the baton of Jahja Ling and in 2003 under
Stefan Sanderling.
Program notes © 2020 by Kurt Loft, a freelance writer
and former music critic for The Tampa Tribune.