Composition

The Menuhin Duo, consisting of my wife Mookie Lee-Menuhin and me, needs new repertoire from time to time. It occurred to me that some ‘cellists with whom I love to play, Gary Hofmann for instance, might find the existence of a piece for four hands and ‘cello useful as a possible encore at the end of a concert involving two pianists and a ‘cellist. The piece is strictly contrapuntal but this should not affect any listener’s ability to hear it and enjoy it.

Structurally it consists of the following: an introduction, first theme, second theme, a bridge passage, first theme in elaborated version, third theme, second theme, bridge passage, first theme and short coda, all of which fits into 6 minutes. So its form is ABCBA, speaking very crudely. But little of this was deliberate, as I don’t set out to impose a structure on some potential music.

I write what I hear and allow a combination of improvisation plus use of existing material to guide me.

E flat minor is a key that lends itself, undoubtedly, to music of a dark mood.

In the 1st movement, the harmony, underlying rhythm, and passage work came to me at once. The second theme has, perhaps, a Russian flavour. It is used to form the subject of a fugue that appears later and which leads to the recapitulation.

The 2nd movement is a set of 5 variations in the relative key of G flat major, with a middle section that is, in contrast to the calm nature of the main theme, rather unsettled. The 3rd movement is a 5/8 moto perpetuo, with a central section in 3/4.

The 4th movement is based on two 12-tone rows, sounded out in a specific unalterable order. The intention is as always to remain within the limits of tonality and never to venture into the no man’s land of atonality. The challenge is of course greater, because one sustains not only the tone rows, but simultaneously has to make tonal and harmonic sense. Its mood varies from brooding to convulsive.

The 5th movement is more celebratory, with an incisive second theme, and a third theme that has a syncopated element that suggests a Scherzo.

‘ It will be premiered by Menuhin Duo ( Jeremy and Mookie Menuhin) and Concerto Budapest Symphonic Orchestra, conducted by Gabor Takacs-Nagy on the 5th of February, 2021’. 

As I like the rigours of strict counterpoint, no tradition is more fulfilling than writing in the baroque manner. Four-hand concertos are rare, and one that is true to the Baroque tradition probably unique in the repertoire.

1st movement.

It is incumbent on me to repeat that none of my Baroque works owes any melodic material to any work from that period. The opening theme was difficult to orchestrate, as it does not lend itself easily to the challenges of harmonisation while maintaining the rules of counterpoint. The second subject has a lively and somewhat motoric element that propels the music forward. The movement ends on a Tierce de Picardie, common usage in those days.

2nd movement.

The movement has a lyrical main subject accompanied by a constant quarter note bass line. The conventional movement of the 4 voices is deliberately undermined by some modulations that require more radical treatment, while staying as always within the rules of counterpoint. A central section introduces a dotted rhythm that contains a certain disquiet, to which the later addition of triplets induces a feeling of inevitability. When the recapitulation occurs, the triplets are maintained as an accompaniment to the original theme.

3rd movement.

The movement starts in a Concerto Grosso style, everyone involved, at an energetic but measured pace. Soon after there is a short fugato passage, followed by another passage that abolishes any attachment to bar lines, so that one feels both free and a little disorientated. This brings one to a false recapitulation, followed by a third subject, based on the first theme.

The temptation of a pianist to transcribe some great work for his instrument is almost unavoidable. Hearing the sextets played in our living room in Gstaad by my father Yehudi, Alberto Lysy, Cecil Aronowitz, Ernst Wallfisch, Maurice Gendron and Marius May made an indelible memory. Soon I discovered that a mere transcription seemed unjustified, as, unlike in Beethoven’s time, we have no need to use the piano to introduce audiences to works The recording has long since taken over that role.

I decided to improvise the repeat of each variation in my manner, nonetheless adhering strictly to Brahms’ structure. Obviously, the range of the piano allows many high and low notes to be sounded that cannot be heard on string instruments.

In the D minor movement of the First Sextet, I followed Mookie’s advice and used the theme from the variation in the major key to write a fugue.
 

 

The Suite in the Baroque Manner was my first venture into writing without reference to any other composer.The opening subject of the prelude announced itself one morning, and from then on I proceeded, rather obsessionally, to adhere to the rules of counterpoint. This in no way curbed my freedom, but, quite to the contrary, enabled me to find a secure foothold. C major was the tonality that surfaced in the Prelude and Fugue, despite, somewhat unconventionally, all four subsequent movements being in C minor. The Picardy third insisted on making an appearance at the end of the work, thus justifying the original key.

The titles of the movements coincided with the subjects, although, apart from the fugue, I did not set out to write a sicilienne or an invention.

A violinist friend, Henning Kraggerud, liked it enough to want to perform it as an encore after a performance of the First Sextet, so I rewrote it for six strings and added another variation.
 

This piece contains a few, largely coincidental, references to the last movement of Brahms Fourth Symphony. It just happened that the first four notes of the theme were reminiscent of, but not identical to, the opening bars.Similarly, the theme lent itself to another citation, that of the Sarabande in Bach’s Cello Suite in C minor.

The repeated interludia provide relief from a melancholy atmosphere. They turned out to be baroque in style, despite the overriding 19th century harmonies of the main work. Towards the end of the last interludium I combine the two elements, the original theme and the baroque leitmotif.

I wrote this upon request of a friend, Henning Kraggerud.

He liked my transformation for 2 pianos of the Brahms Sextets, which include a fugue based on the variation in D major of the slow movement in D minor from the first sextet.

To this I added another variation, so as not immediately to subject musicians and listeners to a fugue. This variation contains a short leitmotif which might remind some aficionados of Mozart’s Concertante.