Music critics have lauded Samuel Barber as the only “American composer who has enjoyed such early, such persistent and such long lasting acclaim”. He knew from the age of nine he would be a composer, entered the Curtis Institute at 14, and won two Pulitzer prizes for his compositions. Despite his reputation, the story of Barber’s only violin concerto is fraught with politics and debate.
Barber began work on the concerto in the summer of 1939 as a commission by Samuel Simon Fels for Barber’s fellow Curtis student and violinist Iso Briselli. The work was commissioned to be played by Briselli with the Philadelphia Orchestra in January 1940, and Briselli would retain full performing rights to it for a year. Interrupted by World War II, Barber finished only the first two movements by its original October 1st deadline. Briselli was enthusiastic about the piece upon receiving the first two movements; however, Barber took to heart his suggestion to write a more virtuosic last movement – it is marked Prestissimo (very fast) and remains one of the few violin concerto movements that is a perpetual motion.
Iso Briselli received the work enthusiastically. Saying his teacher Albert Meiff was unenthusiastic would be an understatement. It would ruin his student’s reputation and career! The concerto was “very far from the requirements of a modern violinist”! It required “surgical operation by a specialist” – generously volunteering his own services for said surgical operation! Meiff even wrote a detailed letter to Fels (the commissioner) describing the ways Barber’s concerto was deficient, comparing it to “placing a basket of dainty flowers among tall cactus in a vast prairie”. Needless to say, Barber didn’t heed his urgings for rewriting the piece, nor Briselli’s attempts at mediation and suggestions of reworking the unique third movement. The disputes put up by Briselli’s teacher and regarding the homogeneity of the work prompted the violinist to relinquish performance rights to the work. He did not premier it in January with the Philadelphia Orchestra, and he gave it back to the composer. Barber continued work on his concerto until its private performance in 1940, and humorously referred to it as his “soap concerto” given its dramatic genesis.
Regardless of the politics and dispute surrounding the piece, it is an excellent example of Late Romantic repertoire with a distinctly American flavor.
Hilary Hahn performs the Barber Violin Concerto, 1st mvt
The first movement uniquely opens without any sort of accompaniment introduction, beginning with an expansive, singing melody and lush orchestral underpinning. Barber makes ample use of the horns, strings and piano in the orchestra, exploring different colors and motifs throughout the piece. He clearly had the beauty and drama of the Appalachian Mountains in mind while writing the piece. Rippling piano, harp and pizzicato motifs suggest mountain streams; the dialogue between the solo violin and clarinet just before the development imitates birdsong; the orchestral interlude between the exposition and development blows a northern wind through the Appalachian trees and scatters their golden leaves on water. The movement centers around a dramatic build from the beginning of the development (an aching minor theme) till the violin bursts from a soaring A to scales up to open string-chords, releasing the sweeping theme to the orchestra which plays the main melody for the first time. The first movement closes gently with the violin playing the counter-theme for the first time (usually performed by the oboe); then as upper strings gently pulse and undulate, the solo line disappears into evening light.
Hilary Hahn performs the Barber Violin Concerto, 2nd mvt
The second movement opens with a lengthy introduction of one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful oboe solos composed. It has the expansive quality of the first movement, but is more personal, longing, and passionate. The solo part quickly gathers intensity, then uncertainly wanders around different keys before singing the oboe’s theme, developing it, and giving it to the strings in the orchestra. The desperation of the beginning of the movement returns in the final phrases of the movement, which threatens to end despairingly – but the solo line returns thoughtfully with a graceful resolution at the end.