Fritz Kreisler — Immortal, and Soon to be Forgotten!

—“”‘’

I sometimes panic, thinking that some of the great names from the past: musicians, writers, thinkers and scientists, will be gone, to be forgotten with the rest, to quote Rudyard Kipling (a case in point).  In some cases these names are gone because the folk alive and doing today just don’t have need of them.  In other cases, there is great need of their thinking and their work, but for various reasons they weren’t brought to the limelight when this generation was paying attention, and so they have been missed.  Young people today have such a huge host of noisy contenders for their attention that the oversight can be easily excused.

Fritz Kreisler (‘Fritz’ is a diminutive of Friedrich; you can look it up) was at one time the best known violinist in the world; he presided over the musical scene of Europe and America for many, many decades.  We can safely say that Kreisler probably tripled the number of people who enjoyed music in the classical tradition in the early twentieth century.

The music associated with Fritz Kreisler is small-scale music; the pieces he introduced to audiences, usually around the size of a large drawing-room (a Salon, as they were called), were around 3 minutes long, in other words, about the length of a modern-day pop song.  He extracted popular tunes from operas and borrowed from folk songs; then he looked around for small pieces and movements written by other composers, both well-known and less well known.  Finally, he made up his own imitations of the work of other composers after they were safely dead, and introduced spurious works by Handel, Couperin, Tartini and others.  This writer (Blair Sanderson) puts it very well: “Fritz Kreisler was one of the most beloved violinists of the 20th century, universally known for his Liebesfreud and Liebesleid, and a quantity of other popular encore pieces. Yet Kreisler was also an industrious arranger and clever pasticheur, who sometimes composed attractive works in the styles of Baroque and Classical composers and gave them false attributions, though more out of a wish to amuse than to deceive.”  If you continue to read, you get the impression that Kreisler’s fame is mostly alive, and mostly well, but in my opinion it is now limited to a small circle of music aficionados, who are relatively a small proportion of the general population.

Let’s begin with Leibesfreud, Love’s Joy, one of Kreisler’s own compositions, and introduced as such from its origins.  Anyone who likes such music as Pachelbel’s Kanon is sure to like this piece, and I’m also fairly sure, many others of Kreisler’s pieces.



Remember, this is Kreisler himself, and recording technology of around 1930.  If you want to hear a modern recording, played by Itzhak Perlman or Joshua Bell, it is relatively easy to search for them on YouTube.

Next, let’s see whether Liebesleid (Love's Sorrow) is on YouTube ... ah, here is Itzhak Perlman, with a wonderfully simple rendering of this melancholy tune:



If you look, you can find a performance by Anne Akiko Meyers that raises the emotional level of the piece to that of great tragedy.  Well, that’s interpretation; you’re allowed to put a certain amount of spin on a piece.  I think it was originally intended to be a foil for the former piece, to present both the joys and the sorrows of love.

Schön Rosmarin (lovely Rosemarie) is also well known.  This recording is by Zino Francescatti.  (It seems like a good idea, while we’re at it, to introduce you to some of the most famous performers of the past; I’m regarding Kreisler in this post as mainly a composer.)




The bowing technique used heavily in this performance is called spiccato, where the violinist gets a very disconnected sound by almost bouncing the bow off the strings.  It is an advanced technique, in that it takes a lot of control to do it evenly and well.  (If any budding young violinist you know uses this technique appropriately, be sure to praise them well!)

Talking about disconnected, the generic term for it is, of course, staccato.  Spiccato is a technique only available to bowed string players; but you can even do staccato on a piano, or organ, for that matter.

A well-known piece by Antonin Dvořák, called Humoresque started out as a piano piece, but was adapted by Fritz Kreisler as a violin piece for his many concerts.



Here next is a performance by one David Nadien, a name I’m not familiar with.  Notice that the piano part influences the character of the performance a good deal, and here we seem to have a very good pianist.



Mr Nadien has borrowed many little mannerisms from Fritz Kreisler.  Performers of Kreisler’s era were well known for introducing little mannerisms that added to the attractiveness of a solo performance (but of course were completely out of the question for using in an ensemble).  Itzhak Perlman remarks on this phenomenon in the DVD The Art of Violin, and he observes that many experts dismiss these mannerisms as mere tricks, but, he says, so many of us would love to know how to apply them!  So though Kreisler could be accused of making a relentless search for an endearing style of violin playing, he was a great violinist in many ways, establishing a style of playing that held sway for at least half a century.  When the authentic movement sought to return to a style more appropriate for Baroque performance, a good part of what they had to break away from was the style established by Kreisler, especially regarding vibrato.

Caprice Viennois



The performer here is Christian Ferras.  His phrasing is very reminiscent of Kreisler’s own.

If a violinist is reading this, don’t forget that the most highly regarded cadenza for the Brahms Violin Concerto was written by Fritz Kreisler.  This concerto is an amazing piece of music though it is by no means a showpiece for violinists.  Paganini is famously known to have refused to play it, because there were no tunes in it for the violin.  But Kreisler decided to play it, (or was promised a vast sum of money if he would play it, possibly) and decided to write his own cadenza.  It stood as the most tasteful and balanced cadenza for many, many years, and is so to this day.  If you listen to Jascha Heifetz’s cadenza written for his performance of the Brahms, you will see how much it was influenced by that of Kreisler.

Fritz Kreisler wrote scores of pieces, and performed hundreds of them.  He lived just at the time that television and film and music recording tape were coming into common use, so there are lots of recordings, audio, and platter (and even some video I believe, but I could be wrong), of Kreisler’s performances.  Keep a lookout for it.  And if you see a collection of Kreisler pieces performed by a modern violinist, it would be a good bet for light listening, and great to play for the edification of very young people, while they’re engaged in jig-saw puzzles, or what have you.

Archimedes

Next Steps in getting into Classical CDs

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Last week, I sent you off to get yourself a CD or two, to listen to it, and see whether you liked what you heard. Most lovers of classical music --even if they're generally happy to hear classical music of any flavor-- do have their particular favorite kinds. Here are my thoughts about each piece (or work) that I suggested in the previous post, just to give you a (possible) idea why you did or did not like the work, and to supply connections to others. I'm going on the initial assumption that you would probably like pieces with similar attributes, but of course you might like something completely different a lot better! Anyway, for what it's worth:

Chamber Music

I sent you off looking for Mozart's Clarinet Quintet. This is a piece I really like, and I know I'm not alone. The second movement, particularly, is just gorgeous: tender, contemplative, melodious, delicate. In contrast, the Rondo movement, with its main Minuet-like theme, is witty and jolly, though it stays within the more or less dignified mood that Minuets are generally associated with. (One episode is very much like a Laendler, the dance featured in the Sound of Music, in which Julie Andrews begins dancing with one of the boys, and ends up dancing with the Baron himself.) Mozart also wrote several wonderful string quartets, including this String Quartet in G major.

My favorite composer is Bach, and I encourage you to try listening to some Bach chamber music.
Here is a sonata for violin and harpsichord (being played by a recorder and harpsichord instead);
Here is a trio sonata from The Musical Offering, one of the most beautiful movements in that collection; another movement, played by the Kuijken family (notice the viola da gamba, which looks rather like a cello with way too many strings). This is Baroque music. The word Baroque is used to describe a highly ornate style developed around the sixteen hundreds, extending to around 1750. This period is sufficiently removed from the present for the music to sound "dated", which is something to recommend it to some tastes, and a setback to other tastes.

Haydn developed the String Quartet, a sort of very austere sonata for the four very closely-related instruments of two violins, a viola and a cello. Here is one of them (nicknamed "The Lark"). The plinking sound in some places is gotten by using a technique called pizzicato, where the strings are plucked instead of bowed.

Brahms wrote several amazing sextets (6 instruments). Mendelssohn wrote some gorgeous music for strings. His Octet for Strings is one of the miracles of the modern world. Another genre is the Piano Trio (Piano+violin+cello). A famous work in that genre is the Archduke Trio of Beethoven.

Concertos

The J. S. Bach Concertos: 1041, 1042, 1043. It's hardly possible to dislike these. Here is Anne Sofie Mutter playing the last movement of the 1041. The rhythm is a gigue (or jig), and boy, does she play it fast. Who said Bach can't be exciting?

The Triple Concerto, 1044 has a wonderfully philosophical middle movement, played by the soloists alone (sometimes with a cello backing the bass line). Triple concertos have a wonderfully different feeling to them, because the soloists form a team, and the success of the concerto depends as much on the feeling among the soloists as it does on their virtuosity.

[Added later:
Georg Friderik Händel, a German from Halle who settled in England, has written not only some of the most listenable and famous music played today. His more serious music is in the genre of Opera, which he loved. His lighter works, however, have immediate as well as lasting appeal. This piece is one of my greatest favorites: the Alla Hornpipe from one of the Watermusic Suites. (This music always reminds me of a royal wedding; it is so grand and festive!) Handel's work is utterly musical, even if a little on the solid, foursquare side, far less complex, and a little more forward-looking that that of Bach, tending towards the so-called galant style that was coming into fashion in the middle years of the 18th century. Even if I neglected to mention Handel in the first post in this series, he is by no means a mere footnote in the panoply of the music of the last four centuries. For example, look at his concerto for organ.]

Mozart: The 5 violin concertos. These are lighthearted, melodious confections that are immediately attractive to the beginning listener, but lack the depth that will keep one coming back to them. The A major (no. 5) is one of the most memorable. If you're destined to be a Mozart lover, though, these will signal that fact. The grace of Mozart's string writing is indescribable. This is Monica Huggett, one of the most respected violinist of the last few decades. Here is the first movement from Concerto No. 1 in B Flat major, being played by an all-women orchestra, except for the director and soloist! (Why not a female soloist, too?)

[Added later: One of the most beloved pieces by Mozart is the famous Sinfonia Concertante for Violin and Viola. This is an utterly romantic piece which is a nice combination of brilliance and musicality.]

The Piano concertos are entirely another matter. They are serious works, with more to say than the violin concertos, and were intended as vehicles for Mozart himself. Here's Keith Jarrett playing the first movement of the K488 (no. 23 in A major). Another clip features Zoltan Koscis, playing the concerto while also playing along in continuo style, something that is coming back in fashion for Mozart concertos. The last movement is fast and exciting, and one of my favorites.

Mozart's Clarinet Concerto, K 622 is a universal favorite. Here we hear a performance of the slow movement, evoking great tranquility and almost otherworldly stillness. (The slow movement of the Quintet also has a similar feeling in many spots, though the more intimate writing makes the effect more romantic.)

Beethoven: Here's Concerto no. 4. As you can see, the piano itself plays the opening notes, an enormous innovation. (In Concerto no. 3, you see how the piano stays silent until almost the middle of the movement, after which it makes its entrance and dominates the remainder of the movement.) These are works with great expressiveness, even if there is a great deal of display of bravura on the part of the soloist.

The violin concerto is a favorite among violinists, for the most part. Here is Itzhak Perlman playing (most of) the first movement.

Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto: this is a highly approachable concerto, and will probably make friends for violin concertos in general, and the violin as an instrument, than for Mendelssohn himself. Mendelssohn's music is gaining in importance, but is still on the fringes of the classical repertoire. (This clip is annotated, giving several items of trivia about the work, which keeps up the interest!)

Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto is interesting because of its uncompromising nature, the almost Beethovenesque willingness to make "ugly sounds", which one forgets in the sheer energy of the work. It is one of the most virtuosic pieces for violin and orchestra, and very, very Russian in flavor. Here is a very youthful Sarah Chang playing the first movement.

Brahms: Violin concerto, 2 piano concertos, and a double concerto for violin and 'cello. The violin concerto is on the monumental side; the first movement goes on for around 20 minutes, most of one side of an LP record. This recording is by Henryk Szeryng. Brahms, though he had his lighter moments, was a serious fellow; to this day, it is a puzzle why I, of all people find his music so satisfying. It's as if Brahms is serious enough for all us, so that we can take a break from it. The piano concerti are simply wonderful, too. (In this excerpt you see how long a shadow Beethoven cast. I would say Brahms is chaneling Beethoven here, if it weren't so impertinent.) And the double concerto is also a gem; probably more beloved by Brahms lovers than by the general classical music world.

Dvorak: here's a tantalizing clip of the Violin concerto. Dvorak inherited the marvelous repertoire of Mendelssohn and Beethoven, as well an inexhaustible fund of melody from his native land. (If we can judge from the music of Dvorak, the Czechs must be musical indeed.)

[Added later:
Schumann piano concerto: Here is the last movement being played by Hélène Grimaud. The whole concerto is filled with simple joy, in great contrast to the life of this most literary of musicians, which was plagued with acute psychological problems (which appear, from their description, as caused by a very severe bipolar disorder). A concerto with a very similar mood, often paired with this one, is that of Edvard Grieg, one of the first Norwegian composers to receive international recognition.]

To proceed:

One thing you have done, we hope, is to get a feel for a composer in the era 1700 - 1900 whose music you can relate to! (If you can't there is still a huge variety of composers you could connect with, so hold on!)

Johann Sebastian Bach: If you liked the Bach excerpts, there is good news and bad news. Bach wrote lots of concertos, about a dozen, in addition to the famous Brandenburg Concertos, a set of 6 that hearkens back to an earlier style of concerto called a Concerto Grosso written for performance in noble houses, which contrasted a small group of expert musicians with a larger group of (probably part-time) musicians who played essentially easier portions which were repetitive and less intricate. By the time Bach got his hands on this form, there were really no easy portions in the works. One of the most famous Brandenburgs is No. 5 in D major, featuring a virtuoso harpsichord part.

In spite of all this, the major portion of Bach's output was for the Church, in the form of the great Cantatas he wrote for performance at Sunday services. If you like choral music, you should begin to look at Bach's choral music, which set a standard for choral music throughout the modern era (even though Beethoven, Handel, Haydn and Mozart made very important contributions, too). Finally, Bach wrote four fabulous Suites for Orchestra which are grand and brilliant, intended to bring the grandeur of Versailles to the smaller German courts of the 18th century. It is hardly possibly to dislike these Suites, which consist of a grand opening movement, followed by a set of a half-dozen old-time dances. Here is an example.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: The music of Mozart is puzzling in its mixture of simplicity and complexity. It is possible to love this music, then become bored with it, and then hear it again and fall in love with it a second time, and be completely baffled that you missed things in it all this while.

The Mozart Piano Concertos: these were written just at the time when composers were beginning to see composition as an expressive vehicle, sort of similar to writing a novel: a way of both becoming famous, leaving a legacy, and showing off one's talent. In the case of Piano concertos, the performer was usually Mozart himself (occasionally a special pupil). In his younger days, Mozart was very possibly quite satisfied to write a piece more brilliant than anything written before. As he matured, though, we see thoughts and ideas in those piano concertos approaching those that came out of Beethoven. These are difficult to put into words; they are a distillation of emotions and experiences that transcend words. Some piano concertos have a certain gravity, e.g. Concerto no. 24 in C minor, played here by Andre Previn, but not sad. In contrast, the A major, no. 23, which is so sunny for most of its length, has spots that simply seem bewilderingly grief-filled. But the grief seems to pass, as if it were simply fleetingly remembered grief.

If you like Mozart, eventually (and I mean possibly months or years in the future) you must look at his operas, most notably the Marriage of Figaro. I'm not giving you a link, simply because you must wait until you really want to move into Mozart opera. Be aware that opera fans aren't often attracted to Mozart opera, but prefer Puccini or Verdi or even Wagner. (And certainly Bizet!)

If you prefer something a little more serious, but without pianos all over the place, try the Mozart Symphonies. The last two or three are the most celebrated, including the amazing "Jupiter" (no. 41) and the well-loved g minor (no. 40). (Warning; the "Jupiter" could be seriously underwhelming at first.)

Ludwig van Beethoven wrote in most instrumental forms, but when one hears the name Beethoven, one usually thinks of his symphonies. Symphonies were invented several times over; first by J.C. Bach, then by Haydn, then by Mozart, and then by Beethoven, in such a way that all subsequent developments of the genre had to prove themselves against Beethoven's nine amazing symphonies. A good one to begin with is the famous Eroica. My personal beginnings in classical music were with the famous c minor symphony, No. 5.

Felix Mendelssohn, as I said, is highly underrated as a composer, a situation which is aggravated by his very early death, at the age of about thirty, of pneumonia, I believe. Mendelssohn wrote a vast volume of chamber works, the violin concerto, string quartets, quintets (at least one, anyway,) the octet, oratorios, incidental music for plays (especially a Midsummer Night's Dream), overtures, and symphonies. He wrote symphonies for string orchestras as a kid (around 15), and later, full orchestra symphonies, more of which are being discovered in recent times. Try his overtures (Fingal's Cave) and his Italian Symphony. All his music has a certain effervescent quality which is very addictive!

Peter IlyichTchaikovsky, of course, is famed for his ballet music. He wrote several symphonies, which are not played as frequently as are his ballets (Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, The Nutcracker), and several piano concerti. It's easy to find clips of these on YouTube, to check whether any of them appeal to you. This clip from the sixth symphony presents a very unusual waltz-like movement in quintuple time. It's hard to believe that it could sound so utterly natural.

Johannes Brahms wrote a large volume of piano music, several symphonies, several concerti, an "inter-denominational" requiem mass (for his mother), chamber music, choral music for a girl's choir, and several other miscellaneous pieces, including works for the organ, which are considered excellent. I'd like to suggest a short work called Variations on the St Anthony Chorale, which is a suite of variations on a hymn-tune once attributed to Haydn. (This is thought to be Brahm's very first orchestral work.) Here is the famous Hungarian Dance no 5. The majority of Brahms's works, though, are quite different from this, except for a few pieces such as the finale of the violin concerto which has a Hungarian flavor.

Antonin Dvorak wrote, in addition to his concertos, several symphonies (including From the New World, inspired by the United States of America). He, too, wrote several Slavonic Dances, which are really fabulous, and some really unique chamber works, including the Bagatelles. This one features a harmonium!

[Added later:
If you liked Robert Schumann, you should definitely listen to his piano miniatures, such as Kinderschenen. He also wrote a large number of gorgeous, atmospheric Lieder (art songs). Here is Die Lotosblume sung by Dorotea Roschmann. (I wish she had given us a less dramatic reading of it; it seems to require a more lyrical interpretation...)
[Added still later:  Here is Karita Mattila of Finland singing Die Lotoblume]

Edvard Grieg, unfortunately, is not a composer I know much about. There is a celebrated orchestral suite titled Peer Gynt, who is a popular Norwegian legendary character. You should have no trouble looking up other piano music by Grieg, as well as a number of songs. I know that Solveigg's Song is a favorite of sopranos.]

Archimedes