MAY 1, 2023 – Inside a local hall on Sunday afternoon I heard violinist Steven Copes perform “the Brahms” with the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra. I’d heard him play it (with the SPCO) a number of years ago in a different Twin Cities venue. On both occasions his rendition of this staple “war horse” of the violin concerti repertoire was an awe-inspiring experience.
“The Brahms” is the only violin concerto written by the prolific Johannes Brahms, hence the simplified reference to the work in D. Premiered on January 1, 1879 in Leipzig, the piece was composed for Brahms’ close friend, virtuoso Joseph Joachim, who played the premier with Brahms conducting.
As Steve knocked the piece out of the ballpark Sunday, I savored the experience much as I’d relish an exquisite three-course meal prepared by a world-renowned chef, served by a world-class master of unrivaled excellence.
My earliest acquaintance with “the Brahms” was via an RCA Victor recording in my parents’ vast collection of LPs. The soloist was Jascha Heifetz with the Chicago Symphony conducted by Fritz Reiner. The recording got so much play, everyone in our household had the piece memorized purely by aural osmosis.
Brahms was a compositional virtuoso. His requiem, symphonies, chamber music, piano concerti, double (violin – cello) concerto—and his violin concerto—are splendid displays of melody and counterpoint baked into compelling structures that tantalize the tastebuds of the ear and bring lasting sustenance to heart, mind and soul.
But as a friend of mine is wont to say, “No one is an A-student at everything.” In the case of Brahms, the composer could barely manage a passing grade in the sartorial department: he pretty much dressed like a slob, lending force to the advice, “Don’t judge a book by its cover . . . or a violin by its case.”
Steve Copes made “the Brahms” as relevant on the last day of April 2023 as it was on the first day of January 1879. My awe was as fresh as it had been back in the living room of our family’s home whenever Dad (most likely) put on the Heifetz recording, cranked up the sound and “conducted.” Back then, I was perhaps as moved by the music as Dad was, but I lacked the conducting chops he used to express his deep appreciation for “the Brahms.”
As I watched and heard Steve’s bow arm and left hand work their magic, I marveled at how a human heart, mind and soul could project such musical feeling through the medium of the twelve-tone scale manipulated into a complex of sounds by a composer’s ear drawing from a palette of complex melodies, counterpoint, rhythm, modulation, dynamics and other musical attributes.
If at times in my life of delusions I longed to play “the Brahms” at a rarified level, on this occasion, I was wholly fulfilled by hearing the piece performed by a world class violinist in partnership with a chamber orchestra of the caliber of the SPCO. The experience carried me to the figurative summit of a musical Mt. Everest. No amount of AI, I thought, however deft at imitating Shakespeare or diagnosing rare diseases, will ever match “the Brahms” as I heard it live on Sunday.
Against constant reminders of human flaws and foibles, we should revel in human brilliance at life’s loftiest heights.
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© 2023 by Eric Nilsson
