Emily Sun (violin)
Film Fantasia
Erich Korngold (1897-1957)
Violin Concerto, Op 35 (1945) ¹
Elena Kats-Chernin (b. 1957)
Fantasie im Wintergarten (2022) ²
John Williams (b. 1932)
Theme from Schindler’s List (1993) ³
Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra/Johannes Fritzsch ¹
Adelaide Symphony Orchestra/Benjamin Northey ²
Melbourne Symphony Orchestra/Benjamin Northey ³
rec. live, 2023-2024, Hobart, Adelaide & Melbourne, Australia
ABC Classic ABCL0102 [61]
Twenty-five years ago, hardly any violinists played the Korngold concerto. It was seen, as was most of Korngold’s output, as being tainted by his work in Hollywood. It is true that the work completed in 1945 uses themes from some of his most popular film scores – but what themes they are! Forward to the present day and hardly any virtuoso in the world does not have the concerto in their repertoire and there are numerous recordings to choose from. It is easier to understand why it is so popular than it is to understand why it took so long. The melodies are memorable, the harmonies vibrant and rich, the scoring exemplary and the writing for the soloist virtuosic and brilliant. It is also a very tough work to bring off.
It was completed in 1945, having been begun in 1943 at the suggestion of Bronislaw Huberman. He was not complimentary about the first two movements and it was only completed in 1945 once Heifetz had shown an interest. It was he who gave the premiere in 1947 with the St Louis Symphony under Vladimir Golschmann. Korngold said the work needed a “Caruso and Paganini” and he found those two in Heifetz.
The work opens with a dramatic melody covering two octaves taken from Another Dawn (1937). Immediately the soloist has to have absolute surety of pitch as they rise from the depths and straight away Ms Sun is in charge, a master of the aural canvas. Playing on “The Adelaide Guadagnini” she produces a rich sound in the lower register and vibrant singing tone in the upper reaches. The second contrasting theme comes from Juarez (1939). These two melodies sound made for the concerto, and how the composer develops and extends them is testament to his genius. The orchestration, which makes use of a large orchestra with prominent parts for harp and vibraphone, is exquisite.
The second movement entitled Romance is just that: a wonderfully lyrical love song. The main melody introduced by the soloist is taken from Anthony Adverse (1936). A contrasting middle section unique to the concerto stops the work becoming saccharine before the love song returns. Ms Sun’s tone is impeccable in this movement.
The finale is the most demanding of the three and was written once Heifetz had come into the picture (no pun intended). It is based on two themes from the Tudor romp The Prince and The Pauper (1937), the first a lively staccato jig which leads to a wonderfully expansive second theme, which provides the perfect foil to its sibling. The writing in this movement is extremely difficult for both violinist and orchestra. The orchestral wind and strings, having rapid descending scale passages that depend on absolute unity in execution. The soloist has to demonstrate impressive détaché bowing contrasted with beautifully controlled long singing bows. Ms Sun easily holds her own with the best. Korngold had a wonderful sense of structure and timing, and he perfectly builds the movement’s rondo-like structure to an exhilarating climax and a mad rush to the finish line.
I was quite shocked to read on Schott, the music publisher’s website, that the concerto is “a nostalgic tribute, almost like a musical film, to the years in Hollywood”; this it absolutely is not. What is remarkable about the work is that Korngold was able to take music cues from disparate films with very different content, pace and structure and create a wholly satisfying musical whole. There is no need to see the music in its original context; it works here.
I was introduced to the work by Ulf Hoelscher’s groundbreaking 1974 recording for EMI, of which I am very fond. That version has been re-released in many guises and was reviewed by Rob Barnett. Later, I discovered Heifetz’s 1953 recording, which is of course sui generis. My favourite, though, is the second of Andre Previn’s three recordings of the work, with Gil Shaham and the LSO for DG in 1994. Previn had an innate understanding of the Viennese soul of Korngold and displays it wonderfully in this work. The shaping and pacing of each phrase and the command of the swooning portamenti are all perfect. Mr Shaham plays just on the right side of sentimental. That version, too, has appeared in many guises and was reviewed by Nigel Harris. While Ms Sun will not replace that recording for me, this is a very fine performance, even more so when we hear applause at the end and realise it was live.
Elena Kats-Chernin seems, to my ears, to be the Australian equivalent of Englishman Joby Talbot. Both of them, while writing for classical ensembles, are happy and indeed comfortable to borrow from the sound world of popular music. Whether this be a particular combination of instruments, or a particular rhythm, or even a devil-may-care attitude to sobriety. This is most apparent in their many ballet scores; Joby Talbot’s score for Christopher Wheeldon’s Alice in Wonderland has become an international hit. Ms Kats- Chernin’s Eliza’s Aria from her ballet score The Wild Swans has made her name famous the world over. They have both written film music, and their sound world seems influenced by Danny Elfman, who is also happy to straddle cinema, television and the concert hall. If Mr Talbot could be commissioned to write a violin concerto, all three could be happily united on disc.
Fantasie im Wintergarten, a substantial thirty-minute violin concerto, is happy to borrow from many genres which help to seduce the listener’s ear. It is based upon music the composer wrote to accompany a German silent film from the 1920s. For some reason, neither the composer nor her publishers specify which, but as she wrote the music for Variété (1925), I assume it is that. The film, a somewhat tragic, romantic tale, was set in a circus and so the score incorporates music appropriate to the time, period and genre. It is beautifully constructed, with thematic material shared and thus unifying all three movements.
Ms Kats-Chernin has said that while it is not a narrative-based concerto, story-like elements from the film kept bubbling up and do nevertheless suggest themselves at times. There are, she says, elements of “light and shadow, tango and chaos, showy, yearning, lyrical and foreboding”. The three movements allow us a series of glimpses into the seedy, comic, cabaret-style entertainments of the Weimar Republic Wintergarden Theatre. But – and this is where she is very clever – we are allowed space to fill out the scenes in our own imagination.
The concerto has its darker moments, something common to all her music. I have found that there is always something there that is familiar, yet also so different that the listener is subtly drawn in before they know it. This work is no exception, and the hustle and bustle of the opening orchestral introduction magically pulls us in and leads us to a recurring four-note tango motive played ardently in the violin’s lowest register. From then on, the ear is constantly surprised by virtuoso writing carefully hidden under the guise of circus-inspired fun and hijinks, all kept in check by soulful lyrical writing which must come from the love interest in the film.
The second movement begins with a beguiling, blues style melody coloured with unexpected turns in the harmony. Furthermore there are some magical effects in the orchestration with the glistening, unexpected, additions of glockenspiel and marimba and a naughty woodblock. Swooning portamenti in the violin and interjections from trumpet, clarinet and snare drum further colour this magical mystery tour. The third movement begins dramatically before becoming more skittish, then grows in sadness, leading to the work’s quiet ending.
As its soloist, Emily Sun, for whom it was written, clearly relishes playing it. Even more astonishing is that this release is an amalgam of the two first performances given in Adelaide Town Hall last April. As in the Korngold, the audience is unnoticeable throughout until the rapturous applauses after the final chords. The work may be too quirkily unsettling to enter the standard repertoire, but it is certainly a diverting and entertaining addition to the repertoire. For those in the UK, Emily Sun will join the BBC NOW and Gemma New to give the UK premiere of the work in Cardiff on 24th October 2024. I assume that the concert will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 at some stage.
When Steven Spielberg asked John Williams to write the score for the film Schindler’s List (1993), the composer said to him, “You need a better composer than I am for this film.” Spielberg responded, “I know; but they’re all dead!” Williams and Spielberg felt the weight of history on them in getting just right the story of Oskar Schindler and his work in saving Jews from the Nazis in occupied Poland. They need not have worried, as both won Oscars for their work. The soloist on the film was Itzhak Perlman and quite rightly this rendition of the main theme became internationally famous. Ms Sun ends this disc with a heart aching rendition of the main theme from the movie, which even after all these years brings a tear to my eye. The orchestra provide perfectly judged and delicate support.
This disc is very welcome, including as it does fine performances of two classics and the world premiere of the Kats-Chernin piece. The orchestral playing is of a very high standard and both conductors show real understanding of the scores.
Paul RW Jackson
Buying this recording via a link below generates revenue for MWI and helps us keep free access to the site
