Era: Classical
Year: 1815 - Symphony No. 3 and 1822 for Symphony No. 8
Form: Symphony
Score: 88
Just for 3 for now...
Schubert is a master at what I'll call denouement even if that's not 100% correct - in other words, I feel he ties and unravels knots in the most peculiar of ways. And talk about the dynamic of this recording - easily the quietest of quiets and the loudest of louds; with beauty juxtaposed in slight tension. Symphony No. 3 actually reminded me a bit of Mahler - the way he used horns and the way he phrased things. Not sure how much of an influence Schubert was on Mahler... 🤔 Anyway, I thought it was pretty great. At times I could see myself emotionally captivated and other times a bit on the edge of my seat to "see what happens next"... sometimes to be teased and other times to be awed. Somehow I feel Haydn and Schubert capture the Austrian spirit really well.
When compared to the estimable boatload of vocal music he composed in 1815 -- nearly 150 lieder, three singspiels, and numerous choral works -- Franz Schubert's instrumental output for the same year seems rather unimpressive. However, his second and third symphonic essays count among the total, and one might rightly conclude that these two splendid and sizeable works make up for any imbalance of musical direction. The Symphony No. 3 in D major, D. 200 was begun during late May and finished just under three months later, with the bulk of the work being done during July. Like each of the other early symphonies (the six written before the "Unfinished" Symphony of 1822), it was not published during Schubert's lifetime; only after it appeared in the first Schubert complete works edition in 1884 did it become an object of widespread attention.
Schubert places a slow introduction before the main body of the first movement. Perhaps more than any other episode of the Symphony, this shows Franz Joseph Haydn's indirect hand in the youthful Schubert's style: long-sustained octaves, complete with timpani roll, precede gradually shifting harmonies that, in true late Haydn fashion, migrate into a sullen D minor. The burst back into the major mode at the start of the Allegro con brio is a welcome one, and the fleetfooted tune that unfolds has the character of a peasant's dance to it; its infectious rhythms spread to the subsidiary melody as well. The Allegretto that follows is in ternary form; the central episode takes off on a clarinet solo, to which the strings lend a gentle "oom-pah" support -- one of Schubert's most characteristically Viennese touches.
Filled with accented upbeats, the minuet (marked Vivace) is a particularly energetic example of its species. The oboe and bassoon get a nice duet during the German dance-like trio. The finale (Presto vivace) is a five-minute plunge headlong into the frantic (but good-naturedly so) world of the tarantella. - Description by Blair Johnston
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Era: Classical
Year: 1815 for Symphony in D Major
Form: Symphony
Score: 83
This was pleasant. But after a couple listens I only had distant opportunities to like it enough to want to revisit, even if it had a lot of redeeming qualities.
Quote:
Cherubini wrote 36 operas but only a single symphony. It is a solid, appealing work, but stylistically it straddles a transition between Mozart and Mendelssohn -- a typical effort of Cherubini, the "conservative revolutionary." Because it's not easy to categorize as fully Classical or early Romantic, the symphony has been largely ignored, at least by major conductors. (The main exception was Arturo Toscanini, who programmed it at least twice and made a still-classic recording with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1952.) The work was commissioned in 1815 by the newly formed London Philharmonic Society. Cherubini also transcribed the symphony as his String Quartet No. 2. The symphony begins with a Largo introduction, fragments of its stately string phrases echoed by the woodwinds. The string utterances become more gruff, the wind echoes more plaintive, and suddenly the first movement's main Allegro section erupts with a sunny, extroverted tune carried mainly by the strings. The more flowing second subject shifts into the minor mode without darkening the mood, and makes fuller use of the winds. This episode leads to frantic passagework that segues into the development section, an energetic, playful working-over of fragments drawn mainly from the first subject, although the second theme does put in an agitated appearance. This whole section anticipates the lean, agile, yet dynamic developments of Mendelssohn. Cherubini's melodies seem even more lively and forceful in the recapitulation and culminate in an energetic coda. The Larghetto cantabile begins with light, anticipatory material, as if to smooth the way for an opera aria. What would pass for the aria, though, seeps into the orchestra through what sounds like a transitional passage and builds a little climax even before it's apparent that a full-fledged theme has emerged. An explosion of jagged figures leads to an even more expansive but better-defined theme. Cherubini subjects all these elements to a brief, subtle development, the alterations consisting mainly of more elaborate accompaniments to the themes, interrupted by a few rough climaxes. The Minuet, marked Allegro non tanto, features a theme that shoots up like the eighteenth century Mannheim Rocket, and proceeds with a muscular exuberance and wit worthy of Haydn. The Trio section, with its melodramatically throbbing woodwinds and urgent but broken minor mode melody, which creates an atmosphere of lighthearted charm. The finale, Allegro assai, burbles up from the cellos and basses through the string section, picking up the woodwinds along the way and develops into high-spirited and occasionally stormy material. Midway through the movement a chattering fugato develops, but this is soon displaced by a little recapitulation and a final stretto energetic enough to finish off a comic opera. - Description by James Reel
Era: Classical
Year: 1816 for the Requiem in C for Louis XVI of France
Form: Dead People Music
Score: 86.5
This was actually quite powerful. I now understand why Beethoven named this guy his true contemporary. Sadly one of the works here is for Haydn's death when the false reports went around that he died in 1805 (he didn't die until 1809... I'm not dead yet!)... anyway the other cool thing or two was a return to complete polyphonic singing like a return to music from a few hundred years prior. The other cool thing was the use of a gong with a strong bass behind it. And then of course it was incredibly solemn and beautiful.
Quote:
Commissioned by the Bourbon family to honor the memory of Louis XVI, this Requiem Mass was first performed in 1816. This is a grandiose work which scholars have compared to Mozart's Requiem. Indeed, Cherubini's composition was hailed as a great accomplishment by a number of major composers, including Beethoven, Schumann, Brahms, and even Cherubini's arch-enemy Berlioz. Premiered throughout Europe in the 1820s to considerable acclaim, this Requiem has been performed fairly frequently, particularly in Germany. While the comparison with Mozart's Requiem may not be far-fetched, there are fundamental differences between the two works. First of all, there are no soloists in Cherubini's work; secondly, Cherubini's orchestration, which reflects the development of orchestration technique since Mozart's death, features truly Romantic brass and percussion effects. The Introitus and Kyrie are slow and gloom-laden, with the orchestra balanced toward the cellos and bassoons. The brief Graduale, however, is almost tender compared to the opening section. This moment of peace is soon shattered by the brass fanfare and ominous tam-tam stroke that introduce the initially frantic Dies Irae. It should be noted that these characteristic effects consisting of new brass and percussion timbres greatly influenced the arch-Romantic Berlioz, who delighted in excoriating Cherubini for his "traditionalism." The Dies Irae music soon subsides, but remains constantly troubled through such devices as soft but frantic falling phrases in the strings underlying steadier choral passages. Alternately laconic and theatrical, this movement also anticipates moments in Verdi's Requiem. In contrast, the smoothly assertive Offertorium seems almost confident. Its centerpiece and conclusion are grand fugues on the words "Quam olim Abrahae" ("Which Thou didst promise to Abraham"). The tiny yet powerful Sanctus provides a brief moment of light to show the way to Cherubini's restrained setting of Pie Jesu. This leads to an Agnus Dei that begins in deep mourning, builds very slowly to a brief tumultuous climax, recedes into a long, steady, low-key plea for eternal peace, and gradually fades away. -Description by James Reel
I know I've heard Cherubini before, but I can't really call where or when. I never bought any Cherubini, so he must not have grabbed me too much at the time. After reading your description of the symphony, I figured he'd be another one falling into the "pleasant but not essential" category.
Halfway through the first movement, I was humming and bobbing my head merrily along, really enjoying it. I also found the third movement to be quite a joyful listen. I could have used a little more creativity/originality in the finale though. It was certainly solid and technically well composed, but felt like an inadequate finish to an otherwise very interesting work.
As for the Requiem...
... okay, so I may have to just stop beginning comments with the caveat "I don't really like vocals in classical music..."
That was freaking awesome!
Either my tastes have changed or you just have a knack for finding those vocal compositions/performances that resonate with me.
While it was just one listen, I can confidently say I will love that after many listens, so I'll be seeking out a copy for myself. Much thanks for sharing a most wonderful diary entry!
RoundTheBendI miss the comfort in being sadProfile Ground Control
Yeah - that's part of this journey for me is to throw out some prejudice/discover new stuff, so glad the same effect is happening with you. That's cool his single symphony had a great effect on you - funny, I thought Schubert's 3rd was great, you thought it ok, and I thought Cherubini's symphony ok and you thought it great... hehe. This phenomenon has always intrigued me. Sometimes it's the point of view the listener brings/energy at the time, etc., and sometimes it really is the work... way more complex than we realize at times. Also super glad you are enjoying the journey with me. Thanks! Very excited to catch up to you in about 100 years... hehe.
Era: Classical
Year: 1823 for Die schöne Müllerin
Form: Cyclus von Lieder (Song Cycles)
Score: 89 (for now... could see myself getting more into this musically... conceptually beautiful)
This is mostly for Die schöne Müllerin. It's a piece filled with themes of the time - unrequited love/liebestod, nature (which during the time has as much to do with myth/religion as well as arguments of Aesthetic than meets the eye), and to be honest suicide/emotions to big for this world (See Sorrows of Young Werther). Nature (the stream/bach) gives cool peace at the end of his life (suicide) after being rejected/not noticed by the beautiful miller's daughter. The last two tracks are absolutely beautiful.
"Das Wandern" ("Wandering"; B♭ major): "Wandering is the miller's joy" – a journeyman Miller happily travels through the countryside, singing of the restless water, millstones, and millwheels of his trade. This is a classic example of strophic song, in which the accompaniment is traditionally made to imitate the various objects about which the Miller sings. Schubert facilitates this with characteristically elegant and inventive piano writing; despite its simplicity, the music contains elements readily receptive to this imitative treatment, with the flowing cyclical broken triads evocative of both wheels and water, and the bass octaves pounding away. The composer continues this illustrative style throughout the cycle, with various recurring motifs. By far the most important of these, the Brook, is a character of its own represented by the piano, and appears next.
"Wohin?" ("Where to?"; G major): "Is this my path then? Oh tell me, brook, where to?" – the Miller fatefully comes across a Brook, and is captivated into following it. Through-composed, the piano imitates the babbling brook with a rippling pattern. This figuration, a first-inversion broken triad circling back on itself, goes on to represent the Brook almost exclusively throughout the cycle.
"Halt!" ("Stop!"; C major): "Dear little Brook, is this what you meant?" – the Brook leads the Miller to an idyllic mill in a forest grove. Through-composed, the piano imitates the vigorous turning of the mill wheel. Subtle diminished and minor harmonies in the accompaniment hint at foreboding.
"Danksagung an den Bach" ("Thanksgiving to the Brook"; G major): "Did she send you? Or have you enchanted me?" – The grateful Miller thanks the Brook for providing work for his hands and his heart – the latter in the form of the beautiful maid of the mill, the Müllerin of the title. Through-composed, with a contemplative broken chord pattern in the accompaniment, and a section in parallel minor as the Miller questions the nature of the Brook's guidance.
"Am Feierabend" ("Evening’s Rest"; A minor): "If only I could move the millstones alone! Then the beautiful maiden would know my true purpose!" – the Miller is troubled when the Maiden wishes a good night to all the men, paying him no particular attention; he aches to distinguish himself from his peers. The piano channels the millworks in this through-composed song, with the up-and-down arpeggio from Halt! again representing the wheel and pounding bass evoking the stones. Highly contrasting static music in the central section captures the restful after-work setting of the otherwise incongruous title. This is an energetic high point of the first section, and the one entry in the cycle in which the protagonist actually sings the phrase "die schöne Mullerin".
"Der Neugierige" ("The Inquirer"; B major): "Tell me, little Brook – does she love me?" – he asks the enigmatic brook whether the Maiden loves him – Yes or No – between these two words lies his entire world. An expressive through-composed song opening with a cleverly executed musical question in the accompaniment – a rising pattern ending on a diminished chord. A slow, contemplative second section follows as the Miller interrogates the Brook, represented as always by its flowing broken triads.
"Ungeduld" ("Impatience"; A major): "My heart is yours, and it will be forever!" – he wishes he could carve his love into every tree, have every bird sing of it, have the wind tell of it. A strophic song in which a busy, restless repeated chord pattern in the accompaniment, crowded with ornaments, reflects the Miller's agitated state.
"Morgengruß" ("Morning Greeting"; C major): "Does my greeting displease you so?" – the Miller is troubled by the Maiden's cool reaction to his morning greeting. Nonetheless, his optimism is intact – he will just wait outside her window. A ballad in strophic form that progressively gathers expressive energy as the metric subdivision increases over each stanza, the Miller’s infatuation swelling.
"Des Müllers Blumen" ("The Miller’s Flowers"; A major): "The flowers will whisper to her as in a dream: forget me not!" – the Miller indulges in a poetic metaphor between the blue flowers beside the brook and the Maiden's blue eyes. The Miller's outpouring is matched with a lyrical arpeggio pattern and gently rocking 6/8 rhythm in this strophic song. An accepted performance convention places the third strophe, concerning dreams, an octave higher in the accompaniment. There is no explicitly indicated outro music, which is unusual in Schubert, but accompanists often choose to simply repeat the introduction. Regardless of this choice, the ending segues into the next song, in the same key.
"Tränenregen" ("Rain of Tears"; A major): "She said: 'A rain is coming – farewell, I'm going home'" – the Miller and Maiden share a tender moment by the Brook – the three principal characters in one place. The Miller cannot bring himself to look at her, and stares into the Brook at the moon and her reflection. As his tears ripple in the water, she abruptly leaves. Augmented harmonies and lyrical, flowing counterpoint in the accompaniment again imitate the brook and add to the nocturne atmosphere. The form is primarily strophic, with a shadowy coda in the parallel minor as the Maiden takes her leave.
"Mein!" ("Mine!"; D major): "Are these all the flowers you have, spring? Can you not shine brighter, sun? The beloved Millermaid is mine! Mine!" – the ecstatic Miller is convinced he possesses the Maiden, despite heretofore dubious encouragement. A brash, heavy-handed, low register accompaniment in broken chords captures the Miller’s manic and effusive machismo, and the vocal line features athletic melisma in nearly every bar. In a near-comical fortissimo flourish, a deliberately muddy fully voiced D major chord closes the first half of the work.
"Pause" ("Interlude"; B♭ major): "Is it the echo of my love's pain? Or the prelude to new songs?" – the Miller, his heart too full to sing, hangs his lute on the wall with a green ribbon and reflects on the heavy burden of happiness. He muses anxiously whether the stirrings of his lute are ominous. Through-composed, a repetitive lute-like motif and static harmony in the accompaniment create the interlude atmosphere. Dissonant minor harmonies reflect the Miller's misgivings before they are shrugged off in the outro.
"Mit dem grünen Lautenbande" ("With the Green Lute-Ribbon"; B♭ major): "Wind the green ribbon into your locks, since you like green so much!" – the Maiden mentions she likes green, and the Miller is happy to oblige, giving her the ribbon as a symbol of their evergreen love. He tries to convince himself that he too likes green, though he is white with flour. Strophic, in short verses with flourishes idiomatic of the lute, the saccharine melody and accompaniment reflect the Miller's deluded optimism.
"Der Jäger" ("The Hunter"; C minor): "There is no game here for you to hunt! Only a doe, a tame one, for me!" – a rough and dashing Hunter clad in green arrives at the mill; the Miller is immediately disturbed by this romantic rival and spirals into a jealous diatribe. The vocal line is extremely dense and the delivery deliberately rushed in the manner of a patter song. In strophic form, the piano imitates hunting horns with a standard idiomatic chord pattern (see Der Lindenbaum from Winterreise, etc) in a brash staccato 6/8 rhythm. The key changes rapidly between C minor and its relative major E♭ major. This song is a turning point, marking the beginning of the Miller’s descent into tragedy.
"Eifersucht und Stolz" ("Jealousy and Pride"; G minor): "Where to so fast and wild, dear brook? Turn back, and scold your maiden!" – the Miller desperately compels the Brook to admonish the fickle Maiden, who has been flirting with the Hunter. Through-composed, the agitated broken-chord accompaniment imitates the now-raging Brook, with a central section again imitating hunting horns.
"Die liebe Farbe" ("The Beloved Colour"; B minor): "Dig me a grave in the green meadow, cover me with green turf, my sweetheart likes green so much" – the catatonic Miller obsesses miserably over green, the color of his love and his pain. An ostinato F♯ in sixteenth notes, repeated over 500 times in the accompaniment across the strophic verses, reflects the Miller's tortured fixation and the monotony of the constant refrain. The sparse accompaniment follows the voice melody in lower harmony as it maintains the ostinato. Ironically, and most likely deliberately, the strophic verse structure and vocal line rhythm is identical to the cheerful Mit dem grünen Lautenbande; the lyrics for either song could be readily substituted over one another's accompaniment, despite their vast contrast in character and content.
"Die böse Farbe" ("The Hateful Colour"; B major): "Oh green, you hateful color you! So proud, so mocking, so pleased with my pain!" – the Miller bitterly and defiantly renounces the color green. He wishes only to take the Maiden's hand one last time to say farewell. In a through-composed rondo form, with an operatic scale of sound, the bold accompaniment again includes a hunting horn imitation in the second episode. In the parallel major of the preceding song, the two are an opposed pair.
"Trockne Blumen" ("Withered Flowers"; E minor): "And when she passes my grave, she will think 'He was true to me!'" – in an elaborate death fantasy, the Miller wishes to be buried with now-withered flowers the Maiden had given him. When she sees this, she will know his heart was faithful; the flowers will bloom again and thus his winter will have passed. Through-composed, the accompaniment at first represents the withered flowers with a minimalist series of simple chords – as the flowers bloom, the music becomes more lyrical, and the harmony and rhythm more intricate.
"Der Müller und der Bach" ("The Miller and the Brook"; G minor): "Oh dear little brook, you mean so well – but do you know what love does to you?" The hopeless Miller turns to the Brook in his heartbreak. The Brook answers with comforting and poetic words of love conquering pain. Resigned and exhausted, the Miller submits himself to the Brook's 'cool rest'. Through-composed, the gently rocking barcarolle-like accompaniment gives way to a broken chord pattern similar to that of Wohin, imitating the Brook and confirming a leitmotif of sorts as this character speaks for the first time. The notable use of Neapolitan chords in this song is one of many examples of chromatic substitution used liberally throughout the cycle, aptly illustrating in this case the languid resignation of the protagonist as the minor second sinks to the tonic. The outro sees the piano descend peacefully to a final major chord as the Miller meets his fate.
"Des Baches Wiegenlied" ("Of the Brook’s Lullaby"; E major): – “Rest well, rest well, close your eyes. Wanderer, you weary one, you are at home.” the Brook, who has always shown the Miller the constancy he so desired, sings him to sleep, scolding the Maiden to not disturb him. A placid and relaxed strophic song, this idiomatic lullaby is by a considerable margin the longest entry in the cycle. The choice of E major, a tritone removed from the opening song, signifies the vast narrative distance covered by the cycle. "And heaven above, how vast it is!"
Quote:
When he composed Die schöne Müllerin (The Miller's Beautiful Daughter) in 1823, Schubert had just been released from the hospital. There he had been treated for syphilis, but he had not been cured. There was no cure for syphilis: it was inevitably and invariably a terminal disease, a disease that always ended with paralysis, madness, and death. But before the end, the sufferer had to endure the alienation of society because syphilis is a sexually transmitted disease. Thus, in a song cycle in which love leads the central character to death, Schubert perhaps worked out his own destiny. And in the last song of the cycle "Des Baches Wiegenlied" (The Brook's Lullaby), he may have written his own epitaph.
The Wiegenlied is one of peace and serenity, of calm and tranquility, of major chords and swaying rhythms, of quiet dynamics and gentle expression, of consolation and even acceptance. In the last of the cycle's strophic settings, Schubert writes a song that truly ends where it begins, a song that simply waits for the day with no end, the day when the mists clear and the heavens open. For Schubert, for any man living under the shadow of death (and everyone lives under the shadow of death), such an epitaph is a compassionate blessing. As the composer bids the miller, so too does the listener bid the composer Godspeed, and flocks of angels sing the cycle to its rest. - Description by James Leonard
FischmanRockMonster, JazzMeister, Bluesboy,ClassicalMasterProfile Land of Enchantment
Where we miss each other actually seems to be consistent. You loved Schubert's 3rd, and specifically mentioned loving it because of hearing some very pastoral elements in it... which reminded me of Beethoven's 6th which you also loved and is my least favorite of his 9.
RoundTheBendI miss the comfort in being sadProfile Ground Control
Where we miss each other actually seems to be consistent. You loved Schubert's 3rd, and specifically mentioned loving it because of hearing some very pastoral elements in it... which reminded me of Beethoven's 6th which you also loved and is my least favorite of his 9.
Good point.
RoundTheBendI miss the comfort in being sadProfile Ground Control
Era: Classical
Year: 1815-1830 (concertos) 1817 for 24 Caprices
Form: Mind blowing violin performances - concerto/capriccio
Score: 89 (Probably for both?)
Ok - so typically stuff like Van Halen, where the holistic musical experience isn't as important as the shredding/virtuosity, is a major turn off for me. But Paganini is not just a virtuoso, even if some of his arrangements feel like just simple background to his virtuoso... at the very least these performances were full of passion and soul and weren't just running scales to show off (code phrase for boring). But this was vivacious and stunning - incredible mixing of styles, for what sounds like something way before his time. I believe I read that violinists wouldn't match his abilities but hundreds of years later. I also read that much of his concerto solos were not written down, so I'm curious as to how they came to fruition on these recordings (I think only 2 of them were written down, so perhaps those were samples that were then just transposed in a good guess). But absolutely, I'd listen to this again.
About the 24 Caprices:
Quote:
It is perhaps sadly ironic that the works directly inspired by the last of Niccolò Paganini's prodigiously difficult 24 Caprices for solo violin (ca. 1817) have overshadowed their source and indeed, the whole of this hugely influential set of technical exercises. But unquestionably, it is the demonic theme of Caprice No. 24, which provided the impetus for composers as diverse as Brahms, Rachmaninov, Lutoslawski, and Lloyd-Webber to use the theme as the basis for their own variation works, which has become Paganini's musical epitaph. This sinister, angular theme conjures up in our minds the gaunt, white face of the violinist whom many thought was in league with Lucifer himself more palpably than any other!
Paganini's music has often been slighted for its lack of profundity; he was, after all, a superstar violinist first and a composer second. Among violinists, however, mastery of the Caprices, Op. 1, represents the summit of technical attainment, and beside the solo violin works of Bach, and perhaps the much later solo sonatas by Ysaÿe, this set stands as one of the greatest volumes of music ever devised for a solo string instrument.
The Caprices were published by Ricordi in 1820, and while their musical content reflected Paganini's astounding technical brilliance, they also served another groundbreaking function. Although primarily intended as technical exercises "A gli Artisti" (dedicated "To the Artists"), the caprices are so wide-ranging in their scope that they actually transcend all expected pedagogic constraints, and thus stand out impressively as bravura miniatures endowed with genuine musical as well as instructional value. In this regard, the series inspired a new interest in compositions which were at once formidably challenging, but also musically rewarding to both players and listeners alike. One of the earliest composers to recognize and emulate this was Chopin, whose Études for piano were directly inspired by the violin caprices. Other composers, notably Berlioz (who composed his symphony Harold in Italy to display Paganini's skills on the viola), Schumann, and especially Franz Liszt, were deeply impressed.
The 24 Caprices for solo violin encompass every imaginable aspect of violin technique, and in many cases, for example in their use of complex multiple stopping, fast passagework, and imaginative bowing permutations, very few, if indeed any other violinist contemporary with Paganini himself could have actually played them! Some of the more spectacular violin pyrotechnics include the combination of bowing and pizzicato (plucking), a full exploration of the use of harmonics, double-stopped trills, and recourse to widely spaced chords based on Paganini's remarkable ability to stretch vast distances across the fingerboard. - Description by Michael Jameson
About just the first Concerto:
Quote:
Paganini's Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No. 1 is a virtuosic tour de force and reveals not only Paganini's incredible technical ability, but also his melodic sensitivity and skillful exploitation of dramatic structure. Like many of his other works, this concerto takes inspiration from the musical language of Gioachino Rossini's operas, which were extremely popular at the time. Paganini originally composed the Concerto No. 1 in the unusual key of E flat major, in order to achieve a more brilliant tone for the violin. However, since modern concert pitches are much higher than was the norm in Paganini's era, the standard modern version of the piece is transposed to the key of D major, which also makes the very thin E string of the violin less susceptible to breakage (Paganini often broke several strings during a single concert performance). By modern standards the technical demands of the concerto are only moderate, but in Paganini's time they were considered tremendous, and many contemporaries branded the piece "unplayable." This, of course, served as valuable publicity that helped Paganini become the most popular soloist of his day. The work is indeed a catalog of such flashy techniques as extended arpeggios, left-hand pizzicati, rapid runs in thirds, fifths, and even harmonics. The work is more than a mere virtuoso showpiece, however. Paganini's concerto is filled with elegant melodic themes, and there are moments of striking beauty. One legend holds that Paganini composed the main theme of the second movement on a one-string violin while languishing in prison under suspicion of a murder he did not commit. Such legends grow up naturally around the dynamic (and, some said, demonic) Paganini, but they also reflect the appeal and mystique of his music. Paganini's aura of mystery was amplified by his refusal to allow his works to be published during his lifetime, making it impossible for his rivals to study and master his techniques. The Concerto No. 1 was published only after his death, and it soon became a fixture in the repertoire of lesser virtuosos who were as adept, more or less, in the technical department, but not nearly as musically compeling as Paganini. Fortunately, many great twentieth century soloists have concentrated on the musicality of the piece as much as the virtuosity. - Description by Edward Moore
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