The concerto has been played in public for the first time at the Festival de la Cité in 2000,
with Julie Lafontaine violin and Marie-Cécile Bertheau piano,
Nicolas Chalvin directed the Orchestre du Festival de la Cité
Notebooks are available for each instrument for musicians willing to play the part.
Article published the day after the first public performance.
This year’s Festival de la Cité’s classical programme is definitely breaking all records.
Impossible to beat record attendance on Friday evening for Mozart’s Requiem (read our Saturday edition), record atmosphere on Sunday evening
for something never heard before at the Cathedral: a premiere of a concerto by Antoine Scheuchzer and a generous dose of Strauss waltzes.
Due to rain, the Festival Orchestra concert-event, scheduled to be held on the Castle esplanade,
took place instead in the shelter of the vaults of the austere religious building.
What pushed Antoine Scheuchzer, a lawyer and industrialist from Lausanne, but also a pianist-accompanist with a passion for variety and jazz,
to write a concerto for piano, violin and orchestra? Pleasure, quite simply. The pleasure of writing something that would last, something long term,
structured and solid.
An immense task, one can only imagine, for a quasi-autodidact in this field. But our dilettante had enough confidence in his musical pen - which some Swiss-French
speaking songwriters appreciate - to dare to embark on this enterprise. The result is surprising, not because it surprises the ears with any harmonic boldness,
but because of the complete adoption of the most classical of styles, tinged here and there with romanticism.
The really original point, which at first appears anything but, is that there are no concertos for violin and piano.
In fact, Antoine Scheuchzer fills a hole in the panoply of romantic concertos, somewhere between Beethoven and Schumann, with Mozartian reminiscence and Brahmsian
anticipation. In so doing, he offers two excellent musicians — Julie Lafontaine on violin and Marie-Cécile Bertheau on piano — the opportunity to shine as soloists.
The writing is generous, the progression ample and natural,
and the slow movement, the romantic focus of the work, provides sumptuous melodies.
Antoine Scheuchzer’s primary objective was to enjoy himself, and observing him on Sunday evening, he was enjoying himself.
And at the same time, he immediately charmed his listeners, which is no mean feat.
“24 Heures” newspaper
Description
Here
is a composition that dresses contemporary classical music in new clothes.
It seems to emerge from everywhere, but if you listen carefully, you will hear that it comes out of nowhere.
Taking a route that is original - but not disruptively so - soloists and orchestra lead us in new
directions that lead - where few serious composers dare to go - to pure
pleasure.
This concerto pulls listeners into an initiation process from which they should emerge transformed.
While music remains essentially the art of making new out of old - using the twelve notes of the scale
- the way in which harmonies unfold plays on our feelings.
The idea of a concerto for two soloists and orchestra germinated for a long time.
But getting down to work was systematically put off, in part, for technical reasons.
In music, as so often in industry, the price, availability, compatibility and suitability of
software turned into good excuses for putting off completion.
It is thanks to yet another computer whose incompatibility with those that went before and came after provided
a sufficiently long breathing space in which to edit the Concerto for piano, violin and orchestra
so that it could be given to musicians for a first reading.
Constructed in three movements, the work has nothing of the revolutionary about it,
based as it is on the classical sonata form.
The Allegro of the first movement
opens with the two soloists getting to grips with each other.
Piano and violin seem to be searching for a theme to unite them. There is no fighting between
the two instrumentalists for one of them to get the upper hand - even if the first cadenza is
the exclusive preserve of the violin. It is through exchange that the solo voice finds its force,
a little like Switzerland in Europe.
The Adagio cantabile of the second movement
Lunrolls like a lament with couplets and a refrain. The ternary rhythm, reinforced by haunting triplets
that accompany the movement from first to last, seems to underline Fate’s hold over Man’s evolution towards
his inevitable end..
The third movement sounds an Allegro vivace
reveille in a bracing theme that is declined through all registers. But here too, fissures appear.
Lovely harmony cracks to develop in minor shades that open doors to new perspectives.
A calm, choreographed cadenza is given to both soloists like ethereal breathing that murmurs
of the final climax.
The consonance/dissonance opposition is neither theoretical nor artificial.
It comes from life itself which is made up of tension and relief, drama and joy,
abominable death and transcending birth. Consonance/dissonance: everyone freights
one or the other according to their state of mind. You could say that the composers of the
20th century wrote music that elevated dissonance beyond fashion to the status of religion.
In doing so, they translated the repellent horror inspired by that century of violence into art:
the humanist’s reaction in the presence of barbarity.
While resolutely tonal, this double concerto for piano violin and orchestra is not free
from the conflict of dissonance. A vestige of memory tells the listener that he has caught
much more than the three ’right’ notes of the chord. "After all, observes the composer, in de-constructing harmonies, the consonance-juggler
that I aspire to be is not fundamentally divorced from contemporary composers: like them,
I use the 12 notes of the scale