Erlangen 91052 (09)—Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto in D major (Gold Medal)

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square Series "Erlangen 91052"
Click here for the "Erlangen 91052" Resource Center—All Posts Available 
One year ago on Round and  Square (22 February 2013)—China's Lunar Calendar 2013 02-22
Two years ago on Round and Square (22 February 2012)—Seinfeld Ethnography: Dog Medicine

[a] All together RF

Click here for other posts in this Round and Square mini-series:

Bronze Medals                    Silver Medals                    Gold Medal

We have seen a lot in this little mini-series on Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D major. We heard the flurry and nuance of the first movement, which is like a complete concerto in itself. Audiences often applaud wildly in their gullible joy when it is over. They are mistaken, of course; there is a beautifully soft and resonant second movement and a whirwind finale to wrap it all up. In one way or another, the performer "suffers"—and often visibly so. We have seen pouring sweat, flying hair, and "merely" swaying bow-work as soloists strive to complete the thirty-five minute piece.

[b] Venue RF

The Round and Square editorial board has awarded bronze and silver medals—six in all.

Before we proceed to our single gold medalist, let's remember one key thing from the earlier posts. These medals—they are not about who is best. I mean, der liebe Gott, I have watched almost thirty performances in the last week or so. They are recent and "early," young and old, male and female. From Sarah Chang to Isaac Stern, they are all consistent.

They are all the best. 

So let's just get over the idea that this is a sort of "top performance" list here. It's not. As I wrote a few days ago, it is better to think of this as the Olympic Downhill. Any of the top dozen or so skiers could win on the day of the Olympic race. Any of the top thirty might win if everything goes just right. The way to think about these posts is to view them through the lens of toil and joy. 

[c] Tchaikovsky Point RF

It's all about abmühen.

All of our medalists have fiddled through a burning ring of exertion, worry, distress, and endeavor. The concerto is about toil, struggle, and controlled frenzy (if you doubt me, watch the finale for any dozen soloists—just do it). The bronze medalists suffered in fairly traditional ways (there was lots of guy-sweat). The silver medalists started to change the perspective a little bit (slender guys under pore-water and hair flying in the bowstring).

So what about the gold? What separates our one gold medalist from all of the other concertos? Is it because she is technically better than, say, David Oistrakh or Jascha Heifetz? No, even though I am absolutely enthralled by her work as a performer, I cannot argue (nor would I ever be so foolish) as to pit these talents head-to-head. If they could race downhill while playing, with the fastest time "winning" on any given day, well, maybe. As it is, however, it would be like judging figure skating...and we all know where that ends up.

[d] Technically speaking RF

We don't do that here. 

So, before we introduce the gold medalist, let's just remember that (beyond high school concerts, perhaps), the quality level is so high that it is like the thousandths of a second that divide the top skiers in the world on any given Olympic day. The winner is always worthy, and has risen to the top of a wonderfully talented group. 

That is where we're going, and our theme is abmühen.

***  ***

Our gold medalist is Patricia Kopatchinskaja, and I have not fallen for a musician quite so passionately since I first heard Hank Williams, Loretta Lynn, Dwight Yoakam, and Patty Loveless. She is our gold medalist because the love of the music courses through her in ways that give an emotional turn to Josh Bell's sweat glands. Patricia doesn't "sweat it"; instead, she wears her emotions on her bow—and in her expressions. I have never seen a performer as wonderfully animated as Kopatchinskaja. 

[e] Story RF

She is like a storyteller—now full of narrative energy, now quiet and reflective.

Always expressive.

But then I found an added layer. This performer not only played it, but she explained it in a way that I always "knew"...yet never quite fully grasped. The problem is that I can't find the video that contains her full interview (it will be added if I do). In the meantime, we have a shorter version that covers many of Kopatchinskaja's main points—and in German, to boot. She speaks of toil, of nuance, and of technical demands. Whether or not you know German, you can see the passion that she has for the music. 

Patricia Kopatchinskaja Documentary 9:34

Seriously, even if you don't know German, just watch her expressions.

And then she walks out onto the stage.

[f] Public RF

She's a fireball, and she made me think about the relationship between the composer, the piece of music, the conductor, the orchestra, and the soloist in new ways. I do not claim that any of this is original. It is my amateur love of music that rivets me. It did remind me of a few things that I know a bit more deeply, though—the art of storytelling, on the one hand, and Shakespeare's King Lear, on the other.

Let me explain.

[g] Don't blow it on the first scene...Dad RF

It is not at all uncommon in Shakespearian criticism—especially when referring to the stage—to note that the actor who spends all of his emotional energy on Act I, Scene I in King Lear is in very great danger of limping home (even beyond the limping home that is built into the play), without the energy to bring Lear's emotional wagon-ride to fruition. Those first scenes need to be intense, and to bring the audience and the story together in their crazy "let me give away my kingdom and now tell me how much you love me, too" frenzy. The temptation on the part of all but the most practiced and circumspect of actors is to pour it all out right there.

And yet...and yet...there are four acts to go. With the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto in D major, there are two movements left after the wild ending of the first movement.

Now watch Patricia Kopatchinskaja in the finale of the concerto. Watch her expression. Watch the very different kind of toll that it takes on her. Above all, she brings out the quintessentially social relationship between soloist and orchestra (the piece is truly a musical back-and-forth, and we must watch closely the "conversation" between violin, flute, and oboe near the end). Kopatchinskaja is also deeply in-tune with the conductor. Watch her technically brilliant and socially subtle rendition. 

Patricia Kopatchinskaja Finale 5:48 

We will return to more straightforwardly Germanic posts in this series beginning on Tuesday, but this has been an education for me in the exertion and exhilaration (in a word, abmühen) of musical performance. And if you have never heard of Patricia Kopatchinskaja, you should do some searches through the vast musical trove on the internet. It will change your life.

She's golden.

Click here for other posts in this Round and Square mini-series:

Bronze Medals                    Silver Medals                    Gold Medal

Next
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
Erlangen 91052 (10)—Everyday Vocabulary: Einfach
We get back to the basics on Tuesday. It's simply...complicated in all sorts of cultural (if not linguistic) ways.

[h] Golden RF