Posted April 14, 2025
Antonin Dvořák
(Born near Prague, Bohemia (now Czech Republic) in 1841; died in Prague in 1904)
Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104, B. 191
- Allegro
- Adagio, ma non troppo
- Finale: Allegro moderato – Andante – Allegro vivo
Instrumentation: 2 flutes (+ piccolo), 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 3 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, triangle, strings
Czech composer Antonin Dvořák composed his masterpiece Cello Concerto in 1895 during his final year as the Director of the newly formed National Conservatory of Music in New York City. This was the first great concerto to convincingly use the cello as soloist, exploiting its ability for long, lyrical lines, as well as being a work filled with lush and tuneful themes.
The first movement, Allegro, begins with two beautiful themes from the orchestra, but when the solo cello enters gallantly at about one minute, the Concerto truly begins to radiate with passion. The movement progresses through quickly-shifting moods, with increasing demands of virtuosity from the cellist, but Dvořák also makes room for quiet reflection. One such moment occurs at about ten minutes, when the cello and flute sing a beautiful duet with touching vulnerability. The movement concludes with grand fanfare in the full orchestra.
The second movement, Adagio, begins with a quietly contemplative tune first introduced by the clarinet and then quickly taken up by the cellist. The tune comes from a song that Dvořák had written in 1888, Kéž duch můj sám (“Leave me alone”), and he uses it here as a tribute to his sister-in-law, Josefina Kaunitzová, who loved the song and had become gravely ill. As sung by the cello, this song is immensely moving.
The final movement, Allegro moderato, begins with a rustic Czech folkdance-like theme in the orchestra, vigorous but lyrical. The soloist joins the merriment quickly, and from here, this finale alternates between moments of majesty and moments of magic – the soloist must be equally a poet and a pyrotechnist. Originally, the ending was to be continual virtuosic energy that built up explosively to the final bars, but when Dvořák learned in May 1895 of Josefina’s death, he rewrote the Concerto’s ending. In this revised ending, at about ten minutes, everything quiets down into a beautiful section of hushed reverence in a touching memorial to his departed friend. And then the very final bars build up quickly again and conclude this great Concerto with a flash of magisterial triumph.
© Max Derrickson