The
common denominator on this disc is the unseen Brahms; not that
we have four cello concertos sounding like the music of a composer
who wrote none - the double concerto notwithstanding - far from
it. Each of them is fairly distinguishable from the other. Neither
does the best known of them, the Schumann, overshadow the others
because of his or its reputation. On the contrary, even if his
concerto was held as a model, it also remains the most problematic
and unsatisfying of them all. It took him the best part of four
years before he had completed his revisions and then he did
not live to hear the first performance which took place another
four years after his death. Volkmann’s concerto, like Schumann’s
unified into a single movement and sharing the same A minor
key, is a highly attractive work, and like his third Serenade
and First Symphony, enjoyed much popularity during his life.
Richter lent his imprimatur to Volkmann’s music by performing
it in Vienna and London. The Cello Concerto was played at St
James’s Hall on 31 May 1880 by Bürger, and the Yorkshire
Post critic Herbert Thompson timed it in his diary at 20’
rather than the 14½’ we have here; perhaps it was slow tempi
which prompted the critic of the Athanaeum to dismiss
it as ‘unsympathetic and not likely to endure’. Two of the works
had particular soloists in mind, Karl Schlesinger (Volkmann),
and Friedrich Grützmacher (Dietrich), while Schumann may have
intended his for Christian Reimers, principal cellist of the
Düsseldorf orchestra, though Ludwig Ebert actually premiered
it in 1860. Gernsheim’s is also in a single movement, so one
wonders if these three composers may have felt that the instrument
lends itself to such a concise and compact structure. The music
throughout is glorious, the Dietrich concerto (its cadenza by
Grützmacher) is a revelation, although after its first performance
it remained unpublished and has an unknown performance history.
Gernsheim’s is the ‘youngest’ by half a century of the four,
and though written a decade after his friend Brahms’s death,
maintains a link in many places by dint of its muscularity and
orchestral textures, even similar thematic outlines in places.
All
the works show the considerable demands made upon the soloists
of the day. Casals espoused the Schumann concerto and probably
single-handedly ensured it a permanent place in the repertory;
would that he had done the same with the other three. The virtuosic
Alban Gerhardt certainly gets around the notes on this excellent
Hyperion recording - another triumph for Andrew Keener and Simon
Eadon who use the Berlin church’s generous acoustic to splendid
effect. Despite an occasional blandness in colour, he is passionate
when passion is called for, while at its most lyrical he responds
with warmth and tenderness. His instrument is an 18th
century Gofriller, a maker whose cellos are much sought after.
Casals played one for sixty years, other owners include Piatti,
Feuermann, Lalo, Rose, Starker and du Pré. Gerhardt has done
a splendid job in making a case for this music, as has Hannu
Lintu at the head of the excellent Berlin Radio Orchestra. One
suspects, however, that the two hitherto unknown concertos may
not make it beyond CD collections and radio stations to concert
platforms. One can but hope to be proved wrong.
Christopher Fifield