Lutosławski Concerto for Orchestra

Lutosławski Concerto for Orchestra. The Concerto for Orchestra genre emerged, particularly, from two Hungarian composers, Zoltán Kodály (1939) and then Béla Bartók (1943), and combines the idea of a Baroque-era “concerto grosso” with the expanded instrumental capabilities of a full, modern orchestra, and features all sections. Where a Symphony emphasized form, and a Germanic tradition (Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms), these Concertos for Orchestra tended to contain folk music idioms of their composers’ countries in larger forms; often countries which had been part of larger empires. In1950s Poland, a great cultural optimism had replaced 1940s despair, and Lutosławski’s music incorporated folk tunes and scales, similar to his colleague, Grażina Bacewicz (whose cello concerto we recently performed with Amy Barston). Lutosławski’s 1951 Little Suite is another good example of this kind of symphonic work. The opening of the Lutosławski Concerto for Orchestra doesn’t begin optimistically. Over a dark low pedal F#, intoned by basses, bassoons, harps and bassoons, and pounded by timpani, cellos enter with a muscular first theme. The instrument groups are layered in their entries, tracing a circle of fifths upward – the next entry begins with a C in the violas, then G for second violins, D on firsts and A for the woodwinds, all over this dissonant F#. Some authors have alluded to the opening of Brahms’ First Symphony – for this piece, Lutosławski may well be connecting its folk influences symphonic traditions. The instrumental buildup releases, with a soaring horn melody. Lutosławski’s development section has virtuosic leaps and repeated downbow strokes in the strings that were also in his Little Suite and also Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring (Dances of the Young Girls). This soaring melody is eventually exhausted, giving way to silence and a dreamlike postlude – an F# major and E major chord are superimposed and held with a fermata before a ringing bell, a high F# in the celesta accompanies soloists in the movement’s opening material, but instructed to play “sweetly” and “Indifferently.” They trace the same circle of fifths pattern, before an F# minor chord resolves to major. The second movement opens with somewhat caffeinated scherzo, which he names “Capriccio Notturno.” With many unsettled chromatic (half-step) sixteenth note figurations in muted strings, and featuring piccolo and xylophone, it trails away before a sudden transition to a heraldic and sonorous “Arioso” interlude; Olympian trumpets, then strings and horns play in canon. This fades away and the capriccio returns before murmuring restlessly away. The third movement has three larger sections. The first is a Passacaglia, a very old-fashioned form in which a bass line is repeated while the composer inventively varies the music over it. It begins sparsely with basses, then more voices are added. An expressive English horn solo introduces the woodwinds. In a kaleidoscopic development, the bass line is frequently obscured: the eighteenth variation has the first violins on a tightrope of soft, high harmonics. The Toccata, a baroque form emphasizing virtuosic display, begins haltingly, but it’s all vigorous and resolute. Even at its softest, it’s energetically marcato, distinct and pronounced. Wistfulness begins the last new section, Chorale, marked “poco calmando” by Lutosławski. Hymn-like chords and solo voices, with georgous harmonies across divisi strings with harp and keyboard, don’t sustain it – an “avvivando” pulls it to the scherzando energy of the Toccata material, combined with Chorale melodies. Unstoppably, with moments that could remind a listener of a Loony Tunes level of energy, we’re headed to this brilliant work’s conclusion. Witold Lutosławski Born: January 25, 1913, Warsaw, Poland Died: February 7, 1994, Warsaw, Poland