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Johannes Brahms, a subtle innovator

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On this plain we saw an old gentleman of a worthy aspect, with a long beard, who drearily led a large following of some ten thousand men in black. He had a melancholy and hopeless air; and Mozart said: "Look, there's Brahms. He is striving for redemption, but it will take him all his time". I realized that the thousands of men in black were the players of all those notes and parts in his scores which according to divine judgment were superfluous. "Too thickly orchestrated, too much material wasted", Mozart said with a nod.

Steppenwolf, Hermann Hesse (1927), translated by Basil Creighton & Joseph Mileck

No, the words that Hermann Hesse places in the mouth of Mozart in his parable Steppenwolf do not paint a flattering picture of poor Johannes Brahms. Françoise Sagan goes even further in her novel Aimez-vous Brahms? She has the main character, Paule, listen to a Brahms concerto, but quickly take the record off the gramophone. "Too romantic". For a modern and well-educated woman like her, Brahms is outdated.

Words like "worthy" (ehrwürdig) and "outdated" have indeed been attached to the composer for nearly two centuries. And other adjectives easily follow: traditional, massive, predictable... Brahms is undoubtedly the spiritual successor of Beethoven, faithfully walking in his footsteps. His symphonies strictly adhere to the four-movement structure perfected by late-classical composers. Moreover, Brahms was critical of the Zukunftsmusik (music of the future) of pioneers such as Richard Wagner, Franz Liszt, or Anton Bruckner... which, by definition, rooted him in the past.

This affection for the great symphonic masters of the past has led to one of the most persistent critiques of Brahms: all his orchestral works sound too symphonic. "His concertos are generally not called concertos, but symphonies with a solo part," wrote composer and critic Walter Niemann in his monograph on Brahms. Even during his lifetime, the public complained that the First Piano Concerto sounded "too symphonic". The famous conductor Hans von Bülow partially agreed, calling the work "beautiful, certainly, but not really a piano concerto in the true sense of the word".

Indeed, there are arguments in favour of a certain fluidity between the genres in Johannes Brahms' music, a characteristic that the composer himself fostered. For example, his Violin Concerto originally had a four-movement symphonic structure, which he later reduced to the more classical three-movement form. This tendency becomes even more evident when looking at the genesis of his First Piano Concerto. The melodies of this work were originally intended for a two-piano sonata. Realizing the potential of his ideas, Brahms first planned to transform them into a symphony, and only later did he give them the form of a concerto. Additionally, Brahms worked simultaneously on his First Symphony and his First Piano Concerto, which naturally contributed to further blurring the boundaries between genres.

Brahms, explorer of boundaries

Does this relegate Alexandre Kantorow, the soloist at our Brahms Festival, to a subordinate and secondary role? Absolutely not! It is high time to dismantle some misconceptions about Johannes Brahms, particularly his supposed traditionalism. For while there is certainly some truth in his attachment to tradition, his contemporaries did not perceive him as a conservative.

His First Piano Concerto was booed by the public, and one critic described it as "a work that cannot bring pleasure [...], containing the sharpest dissonances and the most unpleasant sounds". Other critics were more positive but also emphasized its avant-garde nature: "Brahms is not someone who meets you halfway. He demands devoted study to be fully understood". Similar stories surround the Second Piano Concerto. A London critic called it "difficult," referring to the listening experience rather than the solo part.

According to historian Peter Gay, who wrote an article in Salmagundi on Brahms' reception history, "the public showed immense appreciation for the inventiveness of the composer who dared to explore the outer limits of traditional forms". The idea that Brahms was dutifully following tradition is thus a much later perception, as is the reductive interpretation of his so-called pseudo-concertos.

An Innovative Position

The persistent criticism that his concertos are merely "symphonies with piano obbligato" is also largely unfounded. Musicologists and musicians have recently examined the relationship between the solo instrument and the orchestra in his concertos. Their research shows that the piano indeed plays a lead role, far from being relegated to mere orchestral colour.

For example, the First Piano Concerto arose from an idea for a two-piano sonata, which already demonstrates its pianistic qualities. Latvian pianist Daumants Liepiņš notes in his study diary that "the piano blends organically with the rich and overwhelming orchestral part". However, Dr. Jared Dunn emphasizes in his essay that "the piano creates tensions in opposition to the massive orchestral passages... and plays a key role in resolving them".

The Second Piano Concerto, for its part, also rests on a solid symphonic foundation. Like the original sketches of the Violin Concerto, the work is composed of four movements with a scherzo in the second part. In his letters to Clara Schumann, the composer himself humorously mentions the scale of his work: "I have composed a very small piano concerto with a very small and pretty scherzo".

The innovative positioning of the piano in this piece is even more striking than in the First Piano Concerto. Musicologist Toma Popovici highlights that Brahms "uses the entire keyboard, gives more weight to the lower registers, generating more harmonies, writes complex polyphonic lines, and suggests a wide range of timbres". But the major innovation lies not so much in the performance technique as in the placement of the cadenza, traditionally placed at the end of a movement as a virtuosic synthesis of the musical material heard. Brahms turns this convention upside down: for the first time in music history, the cadenza opens the concerto, entrusting the pianist — and the solo horn — with the responsibility of setting the tone. "The soloist establishes the direction of the musical discourse from the start", summarizes Popovici.

It is time to restore justice to Brahms. Certainly, he looked resolutely to the past, standing on the shoulders of giants like Beethoven and Schubert. But Brahms is much more than a simple "venerable-looking old man with a long beard", lacking originality. His concertos are not just symphonic showpieces; they push boundaries both in content and form. And you will soon have the opportunity to discover this for yourself at the Brahms Festival!

Written by Jasper Croonen