Phone

Tablet - Portrait

Tablet - Landscape

Desktop

Henri Wieniawski

Henryk Wieniawski might have thought twice about dedicating his last and greatest work for violin and orchestra, the Violin Concerto No. 2 in D minor, Op. 22 of 1862, to the famous Spanish violinist Pablo de Sarasate had he known that a quarter century after he wrote the piece he and Sarasate would be rivals in a very real and commercially measurable way; the two were certainly the foremost violinist-composers of their day (at least after Vieuxtemps' career-ending illness). Composing a virtuoso concerto in the nineteenth century was not an enviable task, especially if one was to play it oneself: the virtuoso drew audiences by exploiting technical excellence and by indulging that audience in a perhaps inordinate amount of sweet, syrupy melody, and usually that meant intentionally writing music that would have little durability. Wieniawski's own Violin Concerto No. 1 in F sharp minor, Op. 14 was a big hit that made his name throughout Europe; but today, forced to stand or stumble on its lasting merits as a work of music, it is largely ignored. When Wieniawski set about composing his Second Concerto, he took a different approach; while still ensuring that the work had its quota of flash-and-dazzle and sweet song, Wieniawski made certain to provide his new child with the kind of dramatic backbone and excellent musical structure that are usually lacking in such works. It is no "Emperor" Concerto, to be sure, but Wieniawski's Second can hold its own in some pretty imposing company. Most critics and musicians of the day were far more bowled over by the piece itself than by Wieniawski's renditions of it.

The concerto is in three movements: Allegro moderato, Andante non troppo (Romance), and Allegro con fuoco-Allegro moderato. An urgent melody opens the orchestral exposition of the first movement, and when the violin enters it takes over this lyrical weave. It is inevitable that showy finger-work takes over the movement at some point, but, rather unusually, there is no cadenza to the movement. Instead, the movement builds to a fine virtuoso climax and then makes its way, via a closing passage for the orchestra alone, straight to the following Romance, which surely must count among the most straightforwardly beautiful instrumental songs ever composed. The finale is marked "à la Zingara" -- and gypsy it is, from the frantic moto perpetuo that is the movement's main theme to the robust, earthy dance in D major that breaks in twice, the second time to draw a clamorous, show-stopping close.