Piano Concerto in A minor, Op.16

Grieg was a great admirer of Schumann. He never met him – he was only thirteen when Schumann died – but hearing Clara Schumann play her husband’s Piano Concerto in A minor at the Gewandhaus was a formative experience in his student years in Leipzig. So it is not surprising that when he got to work on his own Piano Concerto, during an idyllic holiday with his wife and two Norwegian friends at Sølerød near Copenhagen in 1868, he took the Schumann Concerto as a model. The similarities between the first movements of the two works are striking - the basic key of A minor, the dramatic opening cascade of chords from high on the piano keyboard, the introduction of the main theme on woodwind and its repeat by the piano…

The resemblances do not end there but the differences are just as interesting. The melodic outline of Grieg’s opening flourish is built out of a three-note motif so often found in his music that it is known as the “Grieg motif.” It derives from Norwegian folk song, as does the woodwind theme, which is reminiscent of a halling dance tune. The poetic second subject, tenderly presented by cellos as the tempo is reduced after a lively piano passage, also has folk-song associations. And alongside his adherence to Schumann and to Norwegian folk song, Grieg cherished an ambition to emulate the heroic manner so impressively displayed by Franz Liszt in his two piano concertos. While he thought better of it and removed most traces of the Liszt influence in a late revision of the work, it is still very apparent in the massively sonorous piano cadenza that precedes the quicker coda.

The slow movement, in the far-off key of D flat major, begins as a reminder of the idyllic situation in which the work was written - in the intimacy of the first theme on muted strings, for example, and in the lyrical spontaneity of the shepherd’s pipe melody so decoratively elaborated in the upper half of the keyboard on the pianist’s first entry. The piano part does become more emphatic, however, and to such an extent that the soloist inflates the once hushed main theme to heroic proportions towards the end of the movement.

Grieg follows Schumann’s example in linking the second movement directly to the third. From now on, however, he is on his own, pursuing a concerto finale like no other before or since. The main theme, introduced by the piano in A minor, is another halling tune and, with its Hardanger-fiddle harmonies, much closer to the folk original than that of the first movement. The other main theme, which follows after some resourceful a short piano cadenza, is another lyrical and characteristically folk-style melody, this one heard first on a solo flute and then on piano. So far so unexceptional - except, of course, for the Norwegian idiom. The radical departure happens towards the end when, after a second short piano cadenza, the main theme is recalled in a different rhythm and a different key, making it a springdans in A major instead of a halling in A minor, and the lyrical flute melody is recalled in a triumphantly grandiose version on trumpet, woodwind and cellos. With the full panoply of piano arpeggios to support it and handfuls of chords to expand it, this ultimate climax is worthy of Liszt himself - who did, in fact, express his admiration for it.

Grieg was a great admirer of Schumann. He never met him - Grieg was only thirteen when Schumann died - but hearing Clara Schumann play her husband’s Piano Concerto in A minor at the Gewandhaus was a formative experience in his student years in Leipzig. So it is not surprising that when he got to work on his own Piano Concerto, during an idyllic holiday with his wife and two Norwegian friends at Sølerød near Copenhagen in 1868, he took the Schumann Concerto as a model. The similarities between the first movements of the two works are striking - the basic key of A minor, the dramatic opening cascade of chords from high on the piano keyboard, the introduction of the main theme on woodwind and its repeat by the piano…

The resemblances do not end there but the differences are just as interesting. The melodic outline of Grieg’s opening flourish is built out of a three-note motif so often found in his music that it is known as the “Grieg motif.” It derives from Norwegian folk song, as does the woodwind theme, which is reminiscent of a halling dance tune. The poetic second subject, tenderly presented by cellos as the tempo is reduced after a lively piano passage, also has folk-song associations. And alongside his adherence to Schumann and to Norwegian folk song, Grieg cherished an ambition to emulate the heroic manner so impressively displayed by Franz Liszt in his two piano concertos. While he thought better of it and removed most traces of the Liszt influence in a late revision of the work, it is still very apparent in the massively sonorous piano cadenza that precedes the quicker coda.

The slow movement, in the far-off key of D flat major, begins as a reminder of the idyllic situation in which the work was written - in the intimacy of the first theme on muted strings, for example, and in the lyrical spontaneity of the shepherd’s pipe melody so decoratively elaborated in the upper half of the keyboard on the pianist’s first entry. The piano part does become more emphatic, however, and to such an extent that the soloist inflates the once hushed main theme to heroic proportions towards the end of the movement.

Grieg follows Schumann’s example in linking the second movement directly to the third. From now on, however, he is on his own, pursuing a concerto finale like no other before or since. The main theme, introduced by the piano in A minor, is another halling tune and, with its Hardanger-fiddle harmonies, much closer to the folk original than that of the first movement. The second subject, which follows after some resourceful development of the main theme and a short piano cadenza, is another lyrical and characteristically folk-style melody, this one heard first on a solo flute and then on piano. So far so unexceptional - except, of course, for the Norwegian idiom. The radical departure happens in the recapitulation where, after a second short piano cadenza, the main theme is recalled in a different rhythm and a different key, making it a springdans in A major instead of a halling in A minor, and the lyrical flute melody is recalled in a triumphantly grandiose version on trumpet, woodwind and cellos. With the full panoply of piano arpeggios to support it and handfuls of chords to expand it, this ultimate climax is worthy of Liszt himself - who did, in fact, express his admiration for it.

Grieg was a great admirer of Schumann. He never met him - Grieg was only thirteen when Schumann died - but he did study with a friend and disciple of his, E.F. Wenzel, at the Leipzig Conservatory. Hearing Clara Schumann play her husband’s Piano Concerto in A minor at the Gewandhaus was another formative experience in Grieg’s student years in Leipzig. So it is not surprising that when he got to work on his own Piano Concerto, during an idyllic holiday with his wife and two Norwegian friends at Sølerød near Copenhagen in 1868, he took the Schumann Concerto as a model. The similarities between the first movements of the two works are striking - the basic key of A minor, the dramatic opening cascade of chords from high on the piano keyboard, the introduction of the main theme on woodwind and its repeat by the piano…

The resemblances do not end there but the differences are just as interesting. The melodic outline of Grieg’s opening flourish is built out of a three-note motif so often found in his music that it is known as the “Grieg motif.” It derives from Norwegian folk song, as does the woodwind theme, which is reminiscent of a halling dance tune. The poetic second subject, tenderly presented by cellos as the tempo is reduced after a lively piano passage, also has folk-song associations. In old editions of the score, issued before the composer comprehensively revised it in 1907, the introduction of that theme was entrusted to a solo trumpet - an incongruous idea adopted on the advice of Franz Liszt when he played through the manuscript in Grieg’s presence in Rome in 1870. It was against his better judgement but, alongside his adherence to Schumann and to Norwegian folk song, he did cherish an ambition to write a concerto in the heroic manner of which Liszt himself was such an expert exponent. The Liszt influence is particularly clear in the massively sonorous piano cadenza that precedes a quick coda based on the “Grieg motif.”

The slow movement, in the far-off key of D flat major, begins as a reminder of the idyllic situation in which the work was written - in the intimacy of the first theme on muted strings, for example, and in the lyrical spontaneity of the shepherd’s pipe melody so decoratively elaborated in the upper half of the keyboard on the pianist’s first entry. The piano part does become more emphatic, however, and to such an extent that the soloist inflates the once hushed main theme to heroic proportions towards the end of the movement.

Grieg follows Schumann’s example in linking the second movement directly to the third. From now on, however, he is on his own, pursuing a concerto finale like no other before or since. The main theme, introduced by the piano in A minor, is another halling tune and, with its Hardanger-fiddle harmonies, much closer to the folk original than that of the first movement. The second subject, which follows after some resourceful development of the main theme and a short piano cadenza, is another lyrical and characteristically folk-style melody, this one heard first in C major on a solo flute and then on piano. So far so unexceptional - except, of course, for the Norwegian idiom. The radical departure happens in the recapitulation where, after a second short piano cadenza, the main theme is recalled in a different rhythm and a different key, making it a springdans in A major instead of a halling in A minor, and the lyrical flute melody is recalled in a triumphantly grandiose version on trumpet, woodwind and cellos. With the full panoply of piano arpeggios to support it and handfuls of chords to expand it, this ultimate climax is worthy of Liszt himself - who did, in fact, express his admiration for it.

Gerald Larner©