9 mins
SAINT-SAËNS CELLO CONCERTO NO.1
Alban Gerhardt explains why it takes courage to fight tradition and forge your own interpretation – based not on what others play but on what the composer wrote – in the work’s third movement
From Saint-Saëns Violoncello Concerto no.1 in A minor op.33. Urtext edition, paperbound with marked and unmarked string parts. Ed. Peter Jost. Pf reduction Johannes Umbreit. Vc fingering and bowing David Geringas. Order no. HN711, ISMN 979-0-2018-0711-9. €26.00. Printed with permission of G. Henle Verlag, Munich © 2002
Saint-Saëns was a wonderful composer, but very seldom have I heard this concerto played in the way that he wrote it. Instead most cellists follow the traditions established by others before them, often because they have listened to too many recordings. It is far more difficult to break away from those traditions if you have heard the work played ten times in the same way. Pretend instead that the music has been written just for you and then interpret it on your own. It is fine to change things in the score, but only if that helps you to bring across the musical message that you want to share. Don’t do it out of laziness, bad habit or just because you’ve heard it played that way before.
Breaking away from tradition takes some courage, particularly when your collaborators are used to things being done in a certain way. Some conductors are wonderful and remember everything that you ask them to do, but others can’t overcome old habits. In an ideal world, the conductor will listen to your ideas and be a musical partner who understands you and takes initiative. You shouldn’t have to nod to tell them when to come in, where to make a transition, or when to continue on from a long note. You need to feel and share the music together, and move together too. I’m happy to play along if a conductor surprises me, unless the only surprise is a return to tradition!
Tempo and timing
Bar 412, where the third movement begins, is traditionally taken very slowly. It is soulful and can be beautiful in four, even at q= 60. I played it that way too, until a conductor said to me, ‘Why so slow? It’s still in two and only un peu moins vite!’ Nowadays I keep a more passionate flow at around h= 55–60, while still trying to vibrate on most notes.
I strongly believe that bar 436 should be quasi Tempo I (h=75–80). The cello passagework from letter L is highly virtuosic, but if we stayed ‘un peu moins vite’ here it could easily sound student-like. To make the transition more organic, I start to push forward in bar 432 and urge the orchestra to come with me. If the music slows down in bar 435, the conductor will struggle to take bar 436 at the right speed.
THE SOLOIST
NAME ALBAN GERHARDT
NATIONALITY GERMAN
STUDIED WITH MARKUS NYIKOS, BORIS PERGAMENSCHIKOW, FRANS HELMERSON
RECORDED FOR CHANDOS, DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON, EMI, HARMONIA MUNDI, HYPERION
‘It is fine to change things in the score, but only if that helps you to bring across the musical message that you want to share’
For Gerhardt’s latest videos, blogs and podcasts about cello practice, technique and performance, see www.patreon.com/AlbanGerhardt
It might be a good idea to take time in bar 467, so that you don’t fall into bar 468 at full speed. This will give you time to place the second beat. After that, I strongly advise keeping a good pulse so that the scales in bars 471 and 475 make rhythmical sense. You don’t have to play them completely metronomically, but try not to scare the conductor! You will also need to be rhythmically clear in bar 479, where the orchestra comes in on the third beat. The bowing is hard, but it has to be in tempo or you won’t arrive together in bar 480. Don’t cause a delay by trying to adjust to the orchestra – just play clearly, so that you are easy to follow.
Try not to lose too much pulse for the expressive passage from bar 496. I do play it more slowly, at h= 55–60, but I still feel it in two. If you play with rubato, be aware of the syncopations in the second violins, which will limit your freedom until they stop in bar 518. I like to prepare for this by slowing down a little with the violins in the previous bar. After this, Saint-Saëns’s a tempo in bar 526 is quite abrupt, so the conductor or pianist can decide whether to play in tempo immediately or work up to it by easing in until bar 530. Both are nice.
If you are playing with an orchestra, watch out for bar 542. The strings tend to rush their pizzicato here, so make sure that you practise this in a faster tempo, just in case. It looks like an easy passage, but it’s awkward, it’s tiring and you will have to play forte for your sound to carry. Don’t lose momentum in bar 546, because this is a bridge into the next section. If you end up playing half speed, the bridge will collapse and you’ll all be in the river and drowning!
My accents in bar 628 indicate little gasps that broaden in bars 632 and 636 into full bows loud enough to rival the power of the orchestra. The down-beat of bar 640 shouldn’t sound like an arrival point: the cello train has to keep going, here and through all the half-bar down beats of bars 640, 642, 644, 646 and 648, which tend to be a bit late. Even good conductors struggle here, so try to play sensitively enough to be understood.
Varying your interpretation
From a young age I have been obsessed with offering variety when music repeats. It began with a childhood trauma, when I had to sit through a concert of the Bach Suites. The cellist played everything the same way and I was bored out of my mind!
The material from bar 412 returns from bar 552 and I approach it very differently each time. Initially I play less certainly, in piano. I take just a little time in the first part of bar 416, then listen to the clarinet line while moving through the rest of it. That way I avoid playing a full stop, instead continuing towards the held E in bar 422. The conductor often takes time for the beautiful oboe line here, but I prefer to save that indulgence for the repeat. Instead I keep moving through bars 423–424, pushing forward from bar 427 as though I can’t quite hold back in the approach to the crazy material in bar 440. There are no accents, so I take that as an excuse to let go.
In contrast, Saint-Saëns’s accents and the real sit-down sforzando in bars 572–575 are a real indication to hold back the second time around. This changes my approach to the whole passage. To begin, in bar 552 I ask the orchestra to interrupt me by coming in early, with a full sound. Then I play mezzo forte, in a quicker, stronger pulse, with more depth, drama and confidence than before. The character has changed: we have lived through rough times and we are more secure now.
I hardly take any time in bar 556 and I get softer in bar 560, to prepare for the magic to come. In bar 420 I nearly ignore the diminuendo, but here I take it seriously. This time the conductor can take all the time in the world in bar 563, so that the transformation into the pianissimo from bar 564 is absolutely heavenly.
Virtuosic passagework
For me the most difficult moment in this concerto is the awkward passagework from bar 440, which comes after a short but powerful orchestra tutti. The solo cello is no match for the entire orchestra, but you must absolutely not allow this to intimidate you. Play as loudly, clearly, energetically and rhythmically as possible, with agility and definition in the left hand. It helps to use the same fingerings for bars 440–443 and 448–451, on the A string, using the thumb to move the hand calmly, without acrobatics. Stay close to the bridge, play into the string and don’t use too much bow, to produce a lot of overtones. This is more about grit than elegance.
Things don’t get easier from bar 454! I would practise this in double-stops, stopping the bow before each shift so that you learn to hit the first note of each group cleanly, calmly and definitely, without searching. Take the time to work on this, because if you miss one shift on stage, it may mean that you miss all of them.
Vibrato and harmonics
There should always be a reason for using or avoiding vibrato. Having a weaker finger is not a good excuse! For example, you can use continuous vibrato to emphasise the legato from bar 496, but add a special colour by not vibrating on the D flat in bar 498. From bar 522, use vibrato to create a sound like blowing across bottle tops, slowly reducing the amplitude so that the bar 524 harmonics don’t come as a shock. In performance I couldn’t play these harmonics cleanly for years, until one day after a rehearsal Catherine Hewgill, the lovely principal cellist of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, suggested that I play closer to the bridge. Since then I have played them perfectly! If you breathe, use enough bow weight and don’t stray towards the fingerboard, everything will work.
Another place to use continuous vibrato – and that doesn’t mean wailing like a bad opera singer! – is from the cello entry after bar 588, to add some nervous energy. This reminds me of the ‘Durch die Wälder, durch die Auen’ aria in Weber’s Freischütz.
Changing notation
There are two places where I have added extra notes. The first is from bar 468, where the orchestra comes in tremolo, like a drum roll to prepare for the virtuosic cello high-wire act, but when the cello enters it isn’t virtuosic at all! It is embarrassingly easy, as though the tightrope is only a few inches from the floor. Saint-Saëns writes single notes interrupted by scales until bar 476, where he suddenly adds the octave to the exact same material as before. This makes me think that he would have written all octave double-stops if he had known that cellists could play it, just as he does in his violin concertos, so that is what I decided to do. This adds plenty of suspense – at least for the soloist! When I was a teenager my teacher, Markus Nyikos, taught me to add chords at the end of the concerto, so that I could join the orchestra for the finale. Why not have the protagonist participate? Nobody has complained to me openly about either change so far. I haven’t been struck down by lightning, either, so I guess Saint-Saëns is fine with them too.
INTERVIEW BY PAULINE HARDING