Sonatina fin G major Op.100 (1893)

As its title suggests, Dvorák’s Sonatina is less ambitious, both structurally and technically, than the average romantic violin sonata. It would be a mistake, however, to assume from its title or from its dedication to the composer’s children that it is a work of little interest to the sophisticated adult. As the composer himself said, “The Sonatina is intended not only for the young but also for older performers, who must interpret it in their own way.”

One of the last scores Dvorák completed in America, it is a fond acknowledgement of the Afro-American and Indian-American idioms which had such an influence on his own music. As in all his “American” works, there is a significant Czech element too, like the furiant rhythms that animate the E minor second subject of the first movemt. The Larghetto, on the other hand, is an essentially American inspiration, based on a theme Dvorák had noted down on a the starched cuff of his shirt on a recent visit to the Minnehaha Falls in Minneapolis – which justifies such titles as “Indian Elegy” and “Indian Lullaby” applied to the many arrangements it has generated. The delightful little Scherzo and the masterly but unpretentious Finale also have their American melodic    but, in the latter case, mingled not only with Slavonic dance rhythms but also with the Czech nostalgia insperable from the music of Dvorák’s New York period.

Sonatina for violin and piano Op.100 (1893)

Allegro risoluto

Larghetto

Scherzo: molto vivace

Finale: allegro - molto tranquillo - allegro

Eugène Ysaÿe (1858-1931)

Sonata in D minor for solo violin Op.27 No.3 (1923)

Ballade: lento molto sostenuto - molto moderato quasi lento - allegro in tempo giusto e con bravura

Isao Matsushita (b 1951)

To the Air of Time (1996)

Henryk Wieniawski (1835-1880)

Variations on an original theme Op.15 (1854)

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)

Violin Sonata in D major Op.12, No.1 (1798)

Allegro con brio

Tema con variazioni: andante con moto

Rondo: allegro

As its title suggests, Dvorák’s Sonatine is less ambitious, both structurally and technically, than the average romantic violin sonata. It would be a mistake, however, to assume from its title or from its dedication to the composer’s children that it is a work of little interest to the sophisticated adult. Far from it. The last work Dvorák completed in America, it is a fond but by no means unanimated farewell to the Afro-American and Indian-American idioms which had such an influence on his own music. The slow movement, the main theme of which he noted on his starched cuff on a visit to the Minnehaha Falls, is a particularly touching example.

While every one of Ysaÿe’s six unaccompanied violin sonatas - the most successful of their kind since J.S. Bach’s - is difficult, the problems vary according to which of his admired violinist colleagues he had in mind when writing them. Sonata No.3 in D minor is like the others in that it calls for immense facility in multi-stopping but, dedicated as it is to George Enescu and subtitled Ballade, it is not so much about technique as about expression - not least in the dramatic opening recitative and above all in the frenzied development of the passionate main theme of the closing Allegro section.

Isao Matsushita, one of Japan’s senior composers, won first prize at the Moenchengladbach Composition for his Threads of Time for string quartet and the Inno Prize for his Threads of Time for piano and orchestra. To the Air of Time comes from the same vein of inspiration. ‘From delicately floating mist-like sounds,’ says Matsushita, ‘is spun a thread of an "air of time.” This “air” gradually becomes a bigger flow and eventually develops into a powerful swell… Layers of numerous sounds will give birth to an eternal time. In the moment when I let myself free in this eternal time, in that precious moment I discover a limited time of a life and an eternal time of a soul.’

Wieniawski - one of the great 19th-century virtuosi and one of Ysaÿe’s teachers too - begins his Variations as though for unaccompanied violin with a multi-stopped version of the original theme. It is not as serious a work as that, however. From the moment the piano makes its entry and the gypsy-like theme passes to the upper register of the violin, it develops into an exuberant anthology of bravura techniques - most entertainingly perhaps where the theme appears in left-hand-pizzicato accompaniment to a vigorously bowed variant.

Beethoven’s first set of violin sonatas was published in 1799 as “Three Sonatas for harpsichord or forte-piano with a violin” - which seems to put the violin firmly in its place as a mere adjunct to the keyboard instrument. But that was how violin sonatas were described at the time and, in fact, the two instruments play an equal role here. Although it is not a virtuoso part, the violin is always idiomatically treated, as when it projects a sustained melodic line after the opening fanfares of Op.12 No.1 or, in contrast, engages in a bold exchange of chords with the piano. Melodic interest is amicably shared between the two in the second-movement variations and the cheerful theme of the Rondo is equally well suited to piano and violin and irresistible to both.

Rupert Avis ©2004