Cello Concerto No.1 in A minor, Op.33

You don’t have to be a great cellist to write a great cello concerto, but it helps if you known someone who is. Saint-Saëns, himself an organist and pianist, was fortunate to be working at a time when Paris had more than its fair share of distinguished cellists. He was deeply impressed by Auguste Franchomme in his early years and, as his career went on, he got to know and admire several others, among whom Auguste Tolbecque seems to have been particularly influential at one point. Certainly, within a year of the cellist’s return to Paris from a spell of teaching at the Marseilles Conservatoire, Saint-Saëns had written not only his first Cello Sonata but also his first Cello Concerto, which latter was dedicated “à Monsieur Auguste Tolbecque” and first performed by him in Paris in January 1873.

No ordinary cellist – he eventually gave up his performing career to set up an instrument workshop in Niort – Tolbecque also played the gamba and was a pioneer enthusiast for early music. It might well have been Tolbecque’s antiquarian interests that inspired Saint-Saëns to make the charmingly old-fashioned Allegretto con moto the centre piece of a Cello Concerto which is an otherwise characteristic example of its time. The opening Allegro non troppo presents the soloist as the dynamic romantic hero, the urgency of his mission indicated by the triplet rhythms and the minor harmonies of the theme introduced by the cello after a peremptory orchestral chord in the first bar. There is a more lyrical side to him, as the tenderly yearning second subject, also introduced by the cello, so melodiously demonstrates. It is, however, the dynamic aspect that dominates here, even though the first subject is actually denied the recapitulation that would be its due in a conventionally constructed first movement.

In fact, the construction is far from conventional. The second subject is recalled with its original emotional implications but then, on a drooping solo cello line, the first movement just dies out. After a short pause, violins and violas, muted to sound like instruments from an earlier age, make a stately entry to the delicately articulated strains of a minuet in B flat major. The solo cello expresses its approval by offering a legato counterpoint to the staccato figuration of the orchestral strings and, after an excited little cadenza, sustains a long series of trills as a background to the reprise of the minuet on woodwind. But, as before, the composer’s strategy is not to bring the movement to a formal ending. He is more concerned to make a smooth, unbroken transition from the gentle Allegretto con moto back to the more urgent pace and the romantic concerns of the first movement.

As soon as the tempo changes back to Allegro non troppo woodwind instruments recall fragments of the dynamic opening theme of the work. So do the orchestral strings and, on its re-entry, the solo cello. It turns out, however, that the soloist is no longer possessed by such urgency. Slowing down the tempo, the cello introduces an expressive new melody which, though based on a phrase from the main theme, is more about nostalgia than heroism. The orchestra succeeds in rousing the soloist to athletic feats of virtuosity but once again the action is held up by a thoughtful cello, this time in an episode that dwells in the very bottom register of the instrument before rising in a spectacular climb to the very top. The new, more sympathetic, even happier identity of the cello prevails over impetuous heroism and, in spite of a pressing orchestral reminder of the opening theme, the work ends in a jubilant A major.

Gerald Larner ©2007

You don’t have to be a great cellist to write a great cello concerto, but it helps if you known someone who is. Saint-Saëns, himself an organist and pianist, was fortunate to be working in Paris at a time when there were first-rate cellists teaching at the Conservatoire, playing in chamber ensembles, entertaining in the salons, leading their sections in orchestras. Saint-Saëns was deeply impressed by Auguste Franchomme in his early years and, as his career went on, he got to know and admire several others, like Adrien-François Servais, Auguste Tolbecque, Jules Lasserre and Joseph Hollman. Tolbecque seems to have been a particularly fruitful influence on the composer at one point. Having studied and worked in Paris, he moved to the south of France to spend six years as professor of cello at the Marseilles Conservatoire. Within a year of his return to Paris in 1871, Saint-Saëns had written not only his first Cello Sonata but also his First Cello Concerto, which latter was dedicated “to Monsieur Auguste Tolbecque” and first performed by him at the Société des Concerts du Conservatoire in January 1873.

No ordinary cellist – he eventually gave up his performing career to set up an instrument workshop in Niort – Tolbecque also played the gamba and was a pioneer enthusiast for early music. It might well have been Tolbecque’s antiquarian interests that inspired Saint-Saëns to make the charmingly old-fashioned Allegretto con moto the centre piece of a Cello Concerto which is an otherwise characteristic example of its time. The opening Allegro non troppo presents the soloist as the dynamic romantic hero, the urgency of his mission indicated by the triplet rhythms and the minor harmonies of the theme introduced by the cello after a peremptory orchestral chord in the first bar. There is a more lyrical side to him, as the tenderly yearning second subject, also introduced by the cello, so melodiously demonstrates. It is, however, the dynamic aspect that dominates here, even though the first subject is actually denied the recapitulation that would be its due in a conventionally constructed first movement.

In fact, the construction is far from conventional. The second subject is recalled with its original emotional implications but then, on a drooping solo cello line, the first movement just dies out. After a short pause, violins and violas, muted to sound like instruments from an earlier age, make a stately entry to the delicately articulated strains of a minuet in B flat major. The solo cello expresses its approval by offering a legato counterpoint to the staccato figuration of the orchestral strings and, after an excited little cadenza, sustains a long series of trills as a background to the reprise of the minuet on woodwind. But, as before, the composer’s strategy is not to bring the movement to a formal ending. He is more concerned to make a smooth, unbroken transition from the gentle Allegretto con moto back to the more urgent pace and the romantic concerns of the first movement.

As soon as the tempo changes back to Allegro non troppo woodwind instruments recall fragments of the dynamic opening theme of the work. So do the orchestral strings and, on its re-entry, the solo cello. It turns out, however, that the soloist is no longer possessed by such urgency. Slowing down the tempo, he introduces an expressive new melody which, though based on a phrase from the main theme, is more about nostalgia than heroism. The orchestra succeeds in rousing him to athletic feats of virtuosity but once again he holds up the action in a thoughtful episode that dwells in the very bottom register of the cello before rising in a spectacular climb to the very top. The new, more sympathetic, even happier identity of the cello prevails over the impetuous hero and, in spite of a pressing orchestral reminder of the opening theme, the work ends in a jubilant A major.

Gerald Larner©2003