Du Hast Diamanten – The Complete Works for Violin and Piano
Recording Information
Alan Rawsthorne’s complete music for violin and piano.
Works on this recording:
• Sonata in A minor (c.1934) — world premiere recording
• Sonata for violin and piano (1958)
• Sonata in A minor (c.1933) — world premiere recording
• Pierrette: Valse Caprice (c.1934)
• Concertante for violin and piano (1934)
Booklet notes
Alan Rawsthorne composed only six works for violin and piano. The earliest, of which the manuscript has unfortunately not survived, was a sonata in E minor. One of its movements was performed in Manchester in July 1927 by Maurice Ward, with Rawsthorne himself playing the piano. Of the surviving five works: two early sonatas (the first in A major, the second in A minor), Concertante (which made use of material from both early sonatas), Pierrette and the masterly Sonata of 1958, only Concertante and the 1958 sonata were published in his lifetime.
In John McCabe’s book, ‘Alan Rawsthorne: Portrait of a Composer’ (Oxford University Press 1999), the opening chapter ‘Apprenticeship’ contains musical examples presenting the opening bars of the two early sonatas. Though commenting on some ‘note-spinning’, ‘muddy textures’, ‘clumsy piano writing’, and ‘overlong pedal points’, McCabe nevertheless noted, ‘Their importance lies in the sudden emergence of vitally important thematic material from which the mature composer was to draw seemingly limitless inspiration.’ He further commented that the examples ‘…demonstrate how much of the mature Rawsthorne is present in these two sonatas.’ McCabe additionally observed that, ‘There are an astonishing number of pre-echoes of his later music.’ In his earlier commentary on Rawsthorne’s chamber music in the third volume of Alan Poulton’s three-part study (published by Bravura in 1986), Sebastian Forbes also included a musical example of the opening of the later sonata, commenting that in both sonatas Rawsthorne’s hand is recognisable in their energy and ebullience, but also noting their excessive length and consequent loss of tension (they “think aloud”, Forbes noted). Despite these compositional shortcomings expressed by both Forbes and McCabe, the printed examples and descriptions of the music itself arouse a curiosity that can be satisfied only by the opportunity to hear it, and therefore surely justify the inclusion of both sonatas in a recording of Rawsthorne’s complete music for violin and piano.
The manuscripts of both the early sonatas are held at the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester. Following an enquiry from Em Marshall-Luck about Rawsthorne’s music for violin and piano, I contacted the archivist, who kindly supplied photocopies. There is a score and a violin part of the earlier sonata, and two scores of the later sonata, only the (presumably) later of which has an associated violin part. Dating from 1933/34, these are likely to have resulted from the relationship Rawsthorne had formed around this time with the violinist Jessie Hinchliffe, a former fellow student at the Royal Manchester College of Music, who he married in 1934.
Sonata in A major for violin and piano
The earlier of the two sonatas, in A major, is in two movements. The first has a quiet but arresting introduction for the piano which leads to a first subject, the melodic and rhythmic structure of which are already characteristic of the composer, as is also the way in which it and the contrasted second subject are idiosyncratically developed. Characteristically, Rawsthorne varied these on recapitulation – a feature that was to become a compositional fingerprint. The movement ends with a restatement of the piano’s opening bars, before an extended arpeggio and two pizzicato low As for the violin. The second movement is a rondo (which John McCabe described as ‘slightly Prokofievan’) founded on two very different ideas: the first of fragmentary motives for the violin and the piano above driving, repeated piano chords; the second, an early example of what John McCabe described as Rawsthorne’s ‘oom-pah’ music. This occurs in a number of his works (there is a late example in the Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra of 1968). A slow and harmonically searching section (which significantly, and interestingly, was later to be included in the second of the two early violin/piano sonatas) leads to further extended development of the opening music before the emphatic close.
John McCabe identified this sonata as being incomplete. An initial examination of the manuscript score revealed that the final page of the first movement was indeed missing, but from the manuscript violin part, it evidently contained the final eight bars. On examining the first of the two manuscripts of the later sonata, a single page following the end of the first movement contained eight bars of music which had been crossed out. Comparison with the earlier sonata’s violin part revealed that this was the missing final page of the first movement of the earlier Sonata, and the piano’s first four bars were (very effectively) identical to the opening bars of the movement. How this page had become misplaced, it is impossible to establish, but locating and identifying it have made the score complete.
There were, additionally, places in the score of both movements where several notes were inexplicably missing from the piano part. For those in the first movement (at bar 28 and bars 119–120), after careful study of the direction and nature of the music, in both instances it has been possible to provide practical completions. In the second movement, at bar 26, the accompanying right-hand quavers of the preceding bars were replaced by a semibreve, and for the next three bars, both staves are blank. This would seem to have been a time-saving expedient indicating that the established accompanimental figuration was to continue until bar 30, where the piano part resumes with right-hand repeated quavers. It is also worth noting that bar 43 of the piano part is blank, but in this case it would seem intentionally: it re-enters at bar 44 with a single bar of semi-quaver chords and single notes, the syncopated rhythm of which is unmistakably jazz inspired, before the basic four-in-a-bar pulse is restored. It is almost as if Constant Lambert had paid a visit and sneaked a bar of the piano part of The Rio Grande into Rawsthorne’s as yet unfinished score!
Sonata in A minor for violin and piano
What appears to be the earlier of the two manuscript scores of the Sonata in A minor (also in two movements) was originally titled ‘Theme and Variations for Pianoforte and Violin’. Below this is inscribed ‘Du hast Diamanten’, under which is the dedication ‘For Jessie Hinchliffe’. Perhaps it was an engagement present for Jessie. It is possible that this was initially a single-movement work, as ‘Theme and Variations’ has subsequently been crossed out and replaced by ‘Sonata for Pianoforte and Violin’, presumably when the second movement was added (though McCabe detected ‘an uncomfortable dichotomy between variation technique and elements of sonata form’ which could have prompted Rawsthorne to amend the title). The second movement, headed simply II, begins with a section marked Allegro Appassionato.
The theme and variations form of the first movement is significant, and was to run like a thread through Rawsthorne’s entire compositional output, of which this would appear to be the earliest example. His later and very characteristic use of the form resulted in some of his most significant works, especially notable being ‘Theme and Variations for Two Violins’ (1937) and ‘Symphonic Studies for Orchestra’ of the following year. Later examples are his ‘Theme, Variations and Finale for Orchestra’ (1967) and the final movement of his Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra (1968).
Rawsthorne’s creative approach to variation form is already evident in this movement. Marked Molto Adagio, the theme is presented by the violin above a calm but rhythmically insistent piano accompaniment. In the second variation the theme moves into the piano right hand while the now muted violin plays a counter melody above. The tempo is slightly increased for the next variation in which the piano has an ostinato figure above which the violin (with mute now removed) plays repeated fragments of the theme – the music moves through a succession of keys, before the piano has a massive climax which John McCabe considered anticipated moments in Rawsthorne’s late chamber music. The fourth variation, marked Allegro molto, begins with running semiquavers for the piano. The violin enters with further fragments of the theme. This leads to a fifth, scherzo-like variation in 6/8-time marked Poco Vivace. The final variation returns to the opening tempo, and above arpeggio figuration for the piano left hand, the violin and piano right hand exchange elements of the theme before the movement ends on a pizzicato low A for the violin over the piano’s staccato A two octaves below the bass clef.
The (presumably) later manuscript score of the A minor sonata is headed ‘Sonata for Pianoforte and Violin’ and the dedication to Jessie Hinchliffe remains. There is, in addition, a separate violin part (which contains some bowing marks) and both this and the score have title pages in ‘art deco’ style, coloured lettering, presumably in Rawsthorne’s own hand. His handwriting and musical calligraphy generally, were of a high standard.
In both manuscript scores the musical text of the first movement is very similarly presented, but in the later manuscript score the second movement begins with a section marked ‘Lento con moto, quasi improvvisamente’. This leads ‘attacca’ into the Allegro Appassionato which opens the second movement in the earlier manuscript. Significantly, ‘II’ above this section has been crossed out, the slow introduction evidently being a later addition. A slow central section makes use of the Adagio portion already previously included in the second movement of the A major sonata.
Concertante for violin and piano
The second movement of the Sonata in A minor in the later form (with slow introduction) was Rawsthorne’s first published work (by Cecilian Press, London in 1937) under the title ‘Concertante No.2’. This raises the question, why No.2, and are there any clues as to what might have constituted No.1? It is possible that Rawsthorne submitted the complete two-movement sonata in A minor to Cecilian Press, comprising the original Theme and Variations and the revised second movement. Perhaps, rather than the entire work, publication of the second movement only was suggested, but with the possible intention of publishing the first movement (depending on the success of the second movement) as ‘Concertante No.1’.
‘Concertante No.2’ was subsequently republished by Oxford University Press in 1968 under the title ‘Concertante’. The Theme and Variations first movement remained in manuscript. There has been the alternative speculation (in McCabe) that the A major sonata in its entirety was intended as Concertante No.1, but as the second movement of this contains the same Adagio section as the Concertante, this seems unlikely. Nevertheless, the first movement could possibly have stood on its own satisfactorily.
Comparison of the second movement in the later manuscript of the sonata with the Oxford University Press 1968 publication of the ‘Concertante’ reveals no significant modifications. It was thus decided to present the A minor Sonata on this recording with the original ‘Theme and Variations’ first movement, but to include the original second movement and the ‘Concertante’ on separate tracks, providing the listener with the option to programme both the earlier and later versions of the two-movement sonata, or the ‘Concertante’ on its own.
Pierrette: Waltz Caprice for violin and piano
This very elegant ‘album leaf’, which nevertheless displays a Kreisler-like virtuosity, was composed as a wedding present for Jessie Hinchliffe in 1934, but later orchestrated as part of the score Rawsthorne composed for the film ‘Uncle Silas’, which Bernard Herrmann considered one of the finest film scores ever written. The original violin and piano version remained unpublished until 2008.
Sonata for violin and piano
Rawsthorne’s Violin Sonata of 1958 is among his most accomplished mature works. It was composed for the celebrated Hungarian violinist Josef Szigeti, but there is no evidence that he ever performed it. The first performance was given in 1959 in a BBC studio broadcast by Manoug Parikian and Lamar Crowson. The first public performance (by the same players) was given at the 1960 Cheltenham Festival, for which Rawsthorne wrote the following programme note:
‘The first movement of the sonata starts with a violent statement by the piano based on two contrasting triads one semitone apart. A lyrical phrase of four notes is introduced after a few bars; these elements recur in various disguises throughout the rest of the work with a view to giving a sense of cohesion to the whole. The short introduction is followed by an Allegro; the two triads play an important part here, in providing the thematic material, as they also play in movement II, where they supply a melody for a remote kind of dance. This movement, painted in very subdued colours, is punctuated by the pianist with unobtrusive variants of the phrase with which he started the whole sonata.
The third movement is a brilliant affair, characterised by alternating triple and duple rhythms between the two instruments. The opening lyrical phrase provides the basis of the middle section. There is a short, non-virtuoso cadenza before the coda.
The fourth movement is a reminiscence of the first. The opening triads are spread in arpeggios over the keyboard, sustained by the pedal, with phrases by the violin intervening. There follows for the violin a melody containing the germ of its opening music, and the piece ends with another reference to the basic triads, very quietly.’
To the above, Rawsthorne added this final paragraph:
‘It is extremely difficult for a composer to write his own programme notes. The object of programme notes should be to seduce the audience into the belief that they will enjoy the music, and that is hardly the province of the composer. I can only hope that you will.’
A characteristic example of Rawsthorne’s dry but telling wit!
© Andrew Mayes