Early in 1875, the thirteen-year-old Czech composer Antonín Dvořák received news from Vienna – the capital of the Austro-Hungarian Empire – that he had been awarded a State stipend. One of the members of the jury, the influential critic Eduard Hanslick recalled: “… Once the competitor Prague Antonín Dvořák send us evidence of his intense though as yet untamed gift as a composer.” By then, Dvořák had composed several operas as well as symphonies, chamber ensembles, piano works, songs and choruses. But it was specifically 1875 that can be considered the year of birth of the composer’s pan European renown. His subsequent acquaintanceship with Johannes Brahms and his circle was one that developed into a longstanding friendship – which for years served as an extremely strong creative impetus for Dvořák. The composer dedicated his Fifth Symphony, written in 1875, to the conductor Hans von Bülow, who was a true admirer of his work (“The dedication from you, along with that from Brahms, the God-blessed composer of our time, is a greater reward than the Grand Cross awarded by any Prince,” von Bülow replied).
At Brahms’ recommendation, (“… the best that a musician can have, Dvořák already has”) Fritz Simrock began publishing works by the Czech maestro. This year was incredibly “abundant” for Dvořák: after the first cook of Moravian Duets there came the Florentine Trio, Op. 21, the Florentine Quartet, Op. 23, the aforementioned Fifth Symphony, Op. 24…

Serenade for Strings, Op. 22, is a link in the chain of works mentioned. Written as if in one breath – the first sketches were made on 3 May 1875, and by 14 May the score was already complete – the Serenade is attractive because of its liveliness and the direct nature of the composer’s expression as well as its refined brilliance. The genre, inherited from Haydn and Mozart, retains the classical clarity, but taking on the romantic disquiet with Dvořák’s pen: the waltz that the composer introduces (second section) would resound five years later in Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings. The intimate nature and the faith typical of chamber music are combined in the Serenade with the full symphonic form – in essence, before us we have a sinfonietta for strings. The finale of the Serenade brings back the themes of its first section and the profound Larghetto, giving the entire work integrity and completeness of form. The Serenade was premiered in Prague on 10 December 1876.

Edvard Grieg’s suite From Holberg’s Time is a tribute to the outstanding educator and enlightener, Danish playwright Ludvig Holberg (1684–1754). A native of Bergen, also Grieg’s hometown, Holberg was a man of Danish theatre, as famous in Norway as he was in Denmark, and he hailed from two national cultures. On 3 December 1884 to mark two centuries since Holberg’s birth, Bergen unveiled a new monument to the writer. Under Grieg’s baton, the square before the monument hosted a performance of his choral cantata In Memory of Holberg. And on 7 December at an anniversary concert, Grieg premiered the piano version of the suite From Holberg’s Time. Already by February the next year, Grieg completed the orchestration of the score and on 12 March 1885 he conducted the premiere of the orchestral version. It was, indeed, in the orchestra that Grieg conceived, in his own words, the work for which he had used as a prototype the orchestral suites by Bach and Handel, Holberg’s contemporaries. As per tradition, the cycle opens with a Prelude expressed in a triumphal and lofty tone. Both the Sarabande and the Gavotte follow, imbued with Bach’s spirit, and in particular the sad Aria, which forcibly recalls the slow movements of Bach’s violin concerti, arias from his cantatas and his passions.
The lively Rigodon, replacing the traditional jig, crowns the suite: the contrasting centre episode recreates the lyrical and dramatic images of the Aria, and the triumphal pace of the final harmonies of the tutti draws an arch back to the Prelude.

“A youth has come, a boy whose cradle was guarded by the Graces and Heroes. His name is Johannes Brahms… Sitting at the piano, he laid open before us miraculous lands… This was assisted by his absolutely brilliant playing, transforming the piano into an orchestra… It was sonatas, or rather secret symphonies.” Thus wrote Robert Schumann of his young friend in his last article, symbolically entitled New Paths. And Brahms was in tune with the surprisingly subtle, “Schumann” nature of his gift. He began composing a symphony (which is unusually characteristic, first in the form of a sonata for two pianos!) and even began to orchestrate it. But soon Brahms became disappointed with what he had done and wrote to Clara Schumann that he had dreamed that he was using sketches of a symphony… for a piano concerto. A wonderful dream: Brahms performed the premiere of his Piano Concerto No 1 in 1859 in Hanover, Leipzig and Hamburg, and the critic of Die Neue Berliner Musikzeitung called Brahms’ Concerto “the first true concerto since Beethoven’s time”. And in actual fact, Brahms, following after Beethoven, continued with the symphonisation of the instrumental concerto and ultimately established the new genre of the concert symphony.

To an even greater degree, this also relates to Piano Concerto No 2 in B Flat Major, Op. 83 (1878–1881). Basically, it should have been called a symphony with a piano solo. Unlike the traditional three-movement concerto, Brahms created a monumental four-part cycle, which serves to augment its affiliation with the symphony genre. Schumann’s auspicious observation also came true, he having picked up the orchestral nature of Brahms’ pianism. In Piano Concerto No 2, the soloist has to equal the orchestra not just in terms of content and egalitarian “partnership”, but even in simple terms of dynamics: the powerful piano material “competes” with the dense, dark orchestral fabric, the vivid timbre effects, the extremely fine colour of the piano part balancing with the varied instrumental palette. The first performance of the Concerto took place in Budapest on 9 November 1881, with the composer performing the solo. The Berlin premiere on 27 November the same year was truly significant: Brahms was seated at the piano, and Hans von Bülow was conducting; in the future they would perform together regularly.

Iosif Raiskin