Manitoba Chamber Orchestra
Karl Stobbe, Concertmaster

Winnipeg performance:
Westminster United Church
11 September 2007

Brandon performance:
Western Manitoba Centennial Auditorium
13 September 2007

James Ehnes, conductor and violin soloist

 

The Buhler Concert

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)
Violin concerto no. 1, in b-flat major (K207)

1. Allegro moderato
2. Adagio
3. Presto

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Violin concertono. 2, in d major (K211)

1. Allegro moderato
2. Andante
3. Rondeau, allegro

Intermission
Refreshments are available upstairs in the concert hall (Winnipeg).

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Violin concerto no. 3, in g major (K216)

1. Allegro
2. Adagio
3. Rondeau

September 11th concert sponsor / Dr. R.T. Ross
September 13th concert sponsor / Richardson Foundation
Season sponsor / The Great-West Life Assurance Company
Print media sponsor / Winnipeg Free Press
Radio media sponsors / CBC Radio Two 98.3,
CBC Radio One 990 and Golden West Radio
Chamber Chatter sponsor / PricewaterhouseCoopers
Electronic media sponsor / Shaw Cable

 

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Winnipeg performance:
Westminster United Church
12 September 2007

Brandon performance:
Western Manitoba Centennial Auditorium
14 September 2007

James Ehnes, conductor and violin soloist

 

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)
Rondo in c major (K373)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Violin concerto no. 4, in d major (K218)

1. Allegro — sonata form
2. Andante cantabile
3. Rondeau (Andante grazioso — allegro ma non troppo)

Intermission
Refreshments are available upstairs in the concert hall (Winnipeg).

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Violin concerto no. 5, in a major (K219)

1. Allegro aperto — adagio — allegro aperto
2. Adagio
3. Rondeau — tempo di minuetto

September 11th concert sponsor / Mann Financial Assurance
September 13th concert sponsor / Richardson Foundation
Season sponsor / The Great-West Life Assurance Company
Print media sponsor / Winnipeg Free Press
Radio media sponsors / CBC Radio Two 98.3,
CBC Radio One 990 and Golden West Radio
Chamber Chatter sponsor / PricewaterhouseCoopers
Electronic media sponsor / Shaw Cable

 

James Ehnes

“Mercifully free of affectation or vanity, yet blessed with as stunning a technique and as intriguing a musical personality as any violinist on the circuit, James Ehnes seems set to become one of classical music’s biggest names … he produces a simply gorgeous palette of timbres — sometimes warm and velvety, sometimes with the pellucid clarity of lark song at dawn, elsewhere thrillingly powerful and incisive.” (The Times review of Ehnes’s Wigmore Hall debut, 23 February 2007.)

James Ehnes has rapidly established a pre-eminent reputation among concert violinists. He has performed with such renowned conductors as Vladimir Ashkenazy, Sir Andrew Davis, Charles Dutoit, Lorin Maazel, Hans Graf, Richard Hickox, Sir Charles Mackerras and Christian Thielemann and has appeared with dozens of major orchestras throughout Europe, Asia, the United States and Canada.

Recitals have taken Mr. Ehnes to major cities around the world and he has also appeared at numerous major international festivals. As a chamber musician, he often performs in trio with cellist Jan Vogler and pianist Louis Lortie and has collaborated with such artists as Leif Ove Andsnes and Yo-Yo Ma.

Following a busy summer of performances in Seattle, London, Moritzburg and Stresa, the 2007-2008 season will take James Ehnes on major tours of South America, Australia and New Zealand as well as of Germany, Scotland, France, Canada and the US.

After the MCO concerts, James flies to Manchester to perform the Sibelius Violin concerto with the Hallé Orchestra, and will then play concerts with the BBC Symphony at the Prague Autumn Festival. Other engagements during the season include performances of Walton’s Violin concerto with the Montreal and Toronto symphonies before returning to the New York Philharmonic with the Glazunov Violin concerto, a work he reprises with the Seattle Symphony in March 2008. The New Year sees him perform Barber’s Violin concerto in Detroit, the Mozart Violin concertos in Vancouver, Bruch’s Scottish Fantasy in San Francisco, the Korngold Violin concerto with the Orquesta Sinfonica de Euskadi, and the Brahms Violin concerto in D major, op. 77, with the Berlin Symphony.

A prolific and multi-award-winning recording artist, he has won two Junos and in January 2002 was named ‘Young Artist of the Year’ at the Cannes Classical Awards for The Six Sonatas & Partitas for Solo Violin (Analekta) by Bach. James Ehnes will add to his impressive discography with the fall release of Elgar’s Violin concerto with the Philharmonia Orchestra under the direction of Sir Andrew Davis on the Onyx label.

In January 2006, he celebrated the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth with the release of a recording of Mozart’s complete oeuvre for solo violin and orchestra, featuring an ensemble of extraordinary musicians including Karl Stobbe. Ehnes gathered this orchestra from around the world and directed it himself. The CD (CBC Records) has widely received top praise making it “a clear first choice in the field” (Classic FM).

James Ehnes was born in 1976 in Brandon. At age nine he became a protégé of the noted Canadian violinist Francis Chaplin. He studied with Sally Thomas at the Meadowmount School of Music and later graduated from Juilliard in 1997, winning the Peter Mennin Prize for Outstanding Achievement and Leadership in Music. In October 2005, James was honoured by Brandon University with a Doctor of Music degree (honoris causa). James Ehnes plays the ‘Ex Marsick’ Stradivarius of 1715 and gratefully acknowledges its extended loan from the Fulton Collection.

The Violin Concertos
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

The works featured in this pair of concerts span roughly the same dates as those of Mozart’s service under Count Hieronymus Colloredo, Archbishop of Salzburg. Before the archbishop’s election in 1772, Mozart had been in service to Colloredo’s predecessor Schrattenbach, who had underwritten much of his traveling. Mozart returned to Salzburg in 1773, where he would remain by and large for the rest of the decade. His first violin concerto was written that same year; his C major Rondo received its first performance in 1781, just a few weeks before he broke with the Archbishop, and with Salzburg, for good.

Until recently, it was believed that all five of the violin concertos were written in 1775. The revised date of 1773 for the Concerto no. 1, in B-flat (K207), not only places it well before the other concertos for violin, it likely establishes it as Mozart’s first original concerto of any kind (he had previously made some transcriptions from older masters’ works).

The new date also helps explain the large stylistic and artistic gap between this concerto and the others, noticeable especially in its first movement, a bit of fluff which demonstrates both a commercial intent and a sharply exhibitionist flavour. This is entirely in keeping with the tradition of the solo concerto of the time, and one can point to many much less successful works that demonstrate these same characteristics. A concerto was not meant necessarily to be great art — the main point was to show off the capacities of the soloist. Mozart would soon explicitly identify and fight against this tendency in the concerto, balancing musical and spectacular elements. On the other hand, it is an instructive and unusual experience to take a work by a great master and discuss its non-greatness. This nakedly self-promotional first movement provides us an opportunity.

Mozart’s use of the orchestra is a handy point of entry for exploring the utilitarian nature of the piece. The relationship between the violin and the orchestra is decidedly asymmetrical; in solo passages the orchestra provides a basic motor and harmonic foundation, but next to no other musical interest. In like kind, the music generally, i.e., its themes and structures, is secondary to the soloistic wants of the violin. There are no formal surprises, the themes do not make untoward demands either in their character or construction; in sum, the violinist has room for limitless license, and all the rest is like the wire frame of a papier mâché form — indispensible, surely, but why should one pay it any attention?

The solo part takes every advantage of this situation. Once the basics of the first theme are out of the way, the fireworks begin: first come arpeggios, then energetic string crossings, then an attention-grabbing drive to the dominant key, consisting of an upward sweep followed by a dramatic leap down to prepare the trill. It is a testament to how thoroughly the movement is invested in flash that this last gesture is allowed to show up exactly one theme too early — the big flourish should properly occur after the second theme. The soloist’s impatience is entirely by design, however: Mozart considers the passage so attractive that he’s willing to bet you’ll like it even better next time. And there it is, half a minute later, even bigger and badder, taking off (if you’ll pardon the extended basketball analogy) from the top of the key and getting in some serious air time before finishing with an in-your-face, power-dunking two-octave leap down to the G-string.

In the main, the objections one can level at the first concerto do not apply to the Concerto no. 2, in D major (K211). The opening movement in particular is tastefully crafted, with an elegant sense of proportion and timing. Within the first minute of the piece one hears how different a work this is from its predecessor. There is no trivial sawing in the lower strings; instead, there are a variety of motions and rhythms, including an especially charming ‘walking’ bass (although this listener hears it more as a ‘lumbering mosey’). Just as important, the echoes and counter-melodies threaded through the orchestra’s exposition promise a dialogue between soloist and ensemble, a promise that is kept throughout the entire work.

This dialogue has two immediate effects. First, the music in general flows more easily, with both melodic and accompanimental material being handed back and forth in ceaseless, artful commerce. Second, the relationship between the orchestra and soloist is no longer one of slave and master, but of equal partners in a drama.

The dramatic element is at its most explicit in the development, where the soloist and orchestra demonstrate a variety of well-defined and discernible characters and moods. After a relatively complacent start, the orchestra injects a note of menace which the soloist cannot wholly avoid. By way of response, the violin alternately argues its case against this injustice, and tries to pass it off as a triviality, but in the end is reduced to a pleading acceptance; it is left to the orchestra to save the situation, striking a note of defiance from which to regain its own confidence.

In Mozart, the dramatic is operatic; in the violin concertos, this well-worn maxim applies in the precise technical sense. As the musicologist Martha Feldman has pointed out, Mozart’s writing in the first movements of the 1775 concertos is identical (sometimes point for point) to that of his solo arias from the same period.

One strikingly consistent detail brought out in Feldman’s analyses is that the soloist never begins the second theme, but instead waits for the orchestra to begin, and then comments on what has been said. In the present case, the soloist does so by sneaking in on the orchestra with a sustained high note that cannot fail to capture our notice. It is a ploy, surely, but an altogether more effective one than the constant acrobatics that engage the violinist in the B-flat concerto.

It is also a ploy that the composer holds in some regard, as the high held note reappears repeatedly in this and the remaining concerti, redirecting both the physical and emotional focus of the music. In fact, it shows up in the very next movement, heralding three affecting sighs from the solo violin.

The plaintive beauty of this Andante alone argues for a more prominent place in the repertoire for the 2nd concerto. The Rondeau is reasonably straightforward, with the exception of a tantalizingly brief episode in D minor that speaks, fleetingly, of an underlying heroic past.

It is apparent that Mozart’s approach to violin concerto writing changed considerably in the two years between his first and second forays in the form, and that mere flash no longer sufficed as a goal in itself. Mozart had in the meantime completed not only a concerto for bassoon and a ‘concertone’ for two violins, but also several mini-concertos for violin solo, the latter occurring as middle movements in certain of his serenades. It is these serenades, argues Maynard Solomon in his biography of the composer, that provided the wellspring for the violin concertos of 1775.

The connection between these two groups of works can be seen in both content and form. The serenades have a structural looseness (there is no set order or number of movements) that is certainly echoed in the final movements of the violin concertos, where episodes of an unusual variety, even whimsicality, are allowed to appear. Pastoral and folk elements also pervade the concertos, strongly recalling pleasant evenings and outdoor entertainment — one hears the rustle of leaves or the murmur of water, the piping of flutes and oboes, the calling of horns, even the sound of guitars floating across the grass, and at times the peasantry join in with an old and simple melody, or a rousing dance.

Above all, it is the ease and freedom from trouble that links these works together. The pervading sense, to quote Solomon, is that of “plenitude, springing from an overflowing abundance of unsullied idealism as yet untouched by any hints of morbidity, cynicism, or disillusionment.”

Turning to the Concerto no. 3, in G major (K216), we find an opening movement that is both pastoral and dramatic, being as it is a direct reworking of an aria from Mozart’s opera Il re pastore (completed earlier in the same year). In the Adagio that follows, just as the soloist’s first gesture will brook no accompaniment, likewise the movement as a whole has a purity that resists description. The first two movements depend heavily on a combination of repeated note motives and delicate two-note sighs, both of which are taken up in the finale for more comical purposes. One coy little gesture in particular insists on appearing out of nowhere, whether it’s wanted or not, to take a short bow.

The Concerto no. 4, in D major (K218), opens impressively and seems among these five concertos to have the most in common with the great Mozart symphonies. It still manages, despite this grandeur, to be rather jolly, taking inordinate pleasure in telling you the same joke time and again, giving each time an elbow to the ribs and a throaty chuckle (‘Ha ha ha!’).

The second movement shines in a way unlike the work of any other composer — indeed, perhaps any other artist. It is a lucky individual who experiences in life what this movement suggests in tones: a love so brimming with passion, and yet so free from jealousy or want as to be both thrilling and careless. Indeed, if such a love may be requited, then one imagines the third movement is meant to capture the enduring joy of its celebration. You surely cannot fail to have a smile on your face by the final fade-out.

The Concerto no. 5, in A major (K219), opens with a surprise. The usual procedure would be that after the exposition, the soloist would enter and play the same tunes the orchestra has just played. Instead, the violin ignores its introduction and enters in an entirely different mood. It’s clear who’s in charge, certainly, but aren’t there supposed to be rules that govern these situations? Apparently not. The solo violin completes its mini-rhapsody, and then takes up the Allegro, not with the theme the orchestra has laid out, but rather using that music as mere accompaniment for its own completely new theme! The ensuing movement is arguably the most lopsided (in terms of the relation of the orchestra and soloist) since the B-flat concerto, but instead of an unschooled and rough-hewn solo vehicle, we have now a well thought-out, subtle, and thoroughly cogent solo vehicle. The violin explores and exploits every register, with special attention to stratospheric meanderings well set off from the more earthbound orchestra, but yet is not too proud to take the arm of the tutti group when it is offered.

After the splashy first movement, the Adagio comes across as pure aria. The violin has a lot to say, too, as it embarks on a soul-searching journey. The gentleness of the serenade is still in effect, however, and the movement remains firmly within the limits of propriety. Operatic as any of these works may be, they are none of them histrionic.

And finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. The Rondeau begins as one expects, based on all the rest of the concertos, with a pleasant pastoral feel, and the expectation of only delicacy and sweetness. And that’s mainly what we get, but there’s a stop along the way. Mozart decides to invite the whole neighbourhood in for the middle section, and a foot-stomping bacchanale alla turca erupts (although technically the melodies are Hungarian, with the exception of one that comes directly from Mozart’s fevered brain).

As noted above, these pieces all share some basic qualities, the most important of which, perhaps, are their gentleness and innocence: in these works conflict is always fleeting, and true antagonism is never found. Perhaps Mozart considered these qualities natural to the combination of violin with orchestra; they are surely embodied in the Rondo in C (K373). From its very first notes, one can sense that this piece is going to be a thoroughly, unremittingly positive experience. And indeed, each tune (and the piece is bursting with them) is, to quote a recent film, “completely, perfectly, and incandescently happy.” What poor scattered moments that dare surface in the minor key are either laughed off outright, or undercut with the sentimental strumming of guitars. Even ladling it on this thick, Mozart is still not content, and must abandon all proportion in the final moment to rise to a level yet more exquisite.

If ever it could be demonstrated that perfection is a vice… well, this is the piece..

 

 

MCO's 2008/09 season is sponsored by The Great-West Life Assurance Company.
Support has been received from Media sponsors The Winnipeg Free Press, CBC Radio One 990,
CBC Radio Two 98.3, Golden West Radio & Shaw Cable. MCO's Chamber Chatter newsletter
is sponsored by PricewaterhouseCoopers. Heartstrings gala
sponsor: Mackenzie Financial Corporation.

© 2008 Manitoba Chamber Orchestra