Concertino for violin and orchestra

When Lehár wrote his Suite de danse he was not far short of twice the age he was when he wrote Die lustige Witwe (The Merry Widow), the Viennese operetta that made his fame and fortune. But, while there are differences in style, he is recognisably the same composer. He still has the genius for waltz tunes that endeared him to the public at the beginning of his career in Vienna thirty-five years earlier. To begin with, in the rhapsodic introduction, Suite de danse sounds like the work of a composer stimulated by the energy of the Broadway musical and infected by a taste for the colours of the Hollywood film score. At an early stage after the opening fanfare, however, there is a glimpse of an old-fashioned waltz tune which, on its definitive presentation in the central section of the piece, clearly demonstrates its descent from Gold and Silver or the Merry Widow Waltz. Although Lehár offers other waltz ideas here, including one that inspires a sentimental violin solo, that first tune is clearly his favourite, not least perhaps because it proves robust enough to take the Broadway treatment too. At the end of the work, in a bizarre development not included in today’s performance, the waltz tune is transformed into a march.

Franz Lehár’s father served for nearly 40 years as a military bandmaster and, in spite of conservatoire training as a violinist in Prague, his son might well have spent the larger part of his life in the same way. In fact, he played in or directed military bands for 14 years before he was posted with his regiment to Vienna and realised what opportunities there were for enterprising musicians after the death of Johann Strauss. Vienna needed not only new operetta composers but also a new ballroom style. With perfect timing Lehár’s Gold und Silber (Gold and Silver), written for the 1902 carnival season, proved to be just the kind of waltz the public now wanted. He promptly left military service, turned his attention to the theatre and in 1905, after experiencing mixed fortunes with four earlier efforts, wrote Die lustige Witwe (The Merry Widow), which was to be one of the most successful works in operetta history. He went on writing for the stage for more than 20 years.

Two examples of Lehár’s outstanding gift for operetta are to be heard later in this programme. In the meantime, the Concertino for violin and orchestra offers an attractive example of the sort of music he was writing when he was still earning his living as violinist and, following encouragement from Dvorák, developing his skills as a composer. Not so much the miniature concerto the title might suggest as a freely shaped rhapsody, it introduces the solo violin in heroic mode although, on a little prompting from a solo oboe, it reveals its true self as a lyrical melodist. A brilliantly articulated scherzo-like episode ends the first half of the work. The second, beginning with a decorative flute solo, is an extended and expressive slow movement which, while it continues to indulge the soloist’s taste for melody, also offers ample scope for bravura display, particularly towards the end. Although Lehár’s scoring is anything but lacking in virtuosity up to this point, there is also an (optional) opportunity for the soloist to add still more in a cadenza just before the closing bars.