The violin concerto ‘Concentric Paths’ by Thomas Adès

A stone falls into water, and the ripples spread out in circles. A tornado rotates in a spiral around its centre, reaching incredible wind speeds. When a tree is felled, concentric growth rings tell the story of its life. In space, spiral galaxies revolve around a black hole. The planets orbit the sun in elliptical paths – Mercury takes 88 days, Neptune 165 years. And for centuries, monks have been circling not only the monastery courtyard but also the mystery of God during their walking meditation in the cloister.

Whether in the cosmos or on Earth: the world is full of concentric paths and movements. Thomas Adès’s violin concerto is aptly titled »Concentric Paths«. Since its world premiere in Berlin in 2005, it has been making the rounds among today’s leading violinists, touring the world’s great concert halls, and ranks among the most frequently performed contemporary orchestral works of all. Not only because it is spectacularly virtuosic and offers the violin the opportunity to shine. But also because Adès’s music is emotionally gripping and tells of life even where it appears to follow purely abstract musical principles.

»If I didn’t compose, I’d be unbearable, uncontrollable, a stammering wreck«, Adès once confessed in an interview. »I can’t live in this world if I don’t create music.« For the Londoner, born in 1971, composing has been of existential importance ever since he suffered from bullying as a teenager and was teased because of his homosexuality. After he was once even physically attacked, he put on Sibelius’ Seventh at home – and realised »that music was able to draw the terrible feelings and the fear out of me.« Since that pivotal experience, music has been a source of comfort and strength for Thomas Adès – a utopian refuge, the promise of a better world.

Perhaps that is precisely the secret of Thomas Adès’s success – alongside his undeniable technical brilliance and his virtuosity in working with the orchestra. At the age of just 33, he was appointed to the Benjamin Britten Chair of Composition at the Royal Academy of Music; in 1999 he received the Ernst von Siemens Music Prize, and in 2000 the prestigious Grawemeyer Award. His operas have premiered at Covent Garden and the Salzburg Festival, and conducting stars such as Simon Rattle and Gustavo Dudamel adore his music. Whatever Thomas Adès touches turns to gold in an almost uncanny way – not least his violin concerto »Concentric Paths«.

Yet Adès’s commentary on the work sounds rather abstract at first. »Like most works of the genre«, writes Adès, »the concerto consists of three movements. Yet here, these actually form more of a triptych.« This means that, as in an altarpiece, two fast movements frame a large slow movement at the centre. Compositionally, this slow movement consists »of two large and many small, independent cycles which, in their quest for a resolution, overlap and at times clash violently. The outer movements are also circular in structure: the first fast movement places harmonically unstable layers on different orbits, whilst the third is playful and leisurely, with the stable circles proceeding harmonically along different paths.«

A rather technical description – but what a wealth of associations this music unleashes when heard! The wildly virtuosic first movement catapults the violin very quickly to the highest heights, into orbit, where it circles, hovers and whirs above the orchestra like a satellite. This uninterrupted, breathless perpetuum mobile places the highest demands on the soloist right from the start. The beginning of the second movement, by contrast, is reminiscent of Johann Sebastian Bach’s famous Chaconne for solo violin. Instead of leading into space, the paths now lead more inward: here, the violin seems to circle thoughtfully around the great questions of existence, at times falling silent in the face of life’s mysteries. The orchestra first bursts in with blood-curdling, relentless beats and then forms a counterpart, from whose rigid rhythmic boundaries the solo violin’s melody repeatedly breaks free. This profound and moving movement is followed, by contrast, by a playful rondo, whose theme wobbles like a flat bicycle tyre yet still gets stuck in your ears like a catchy tune. The conclusion comes as a surprise and is abrupt. In truth, Thomas Adès’ concentric circles could have kept turning forever.

Thorsten Preuß

Lemminkäinen-Suite by Jean Sibelius

The late 19th century was the era of national musical styles. Across Europe, composers drew on themes characteristic of their own countries or incorporated folk music into their works – whether to celebrate the strength of a great nation, to fight for the political independence of a smaller one, or simply to counter the overwhelming influence of other cultural powers with something of their own. Jean Sibelius became known as Finland’s national composer – mainly due to works such as the Kullervo Symphony, the Lemminkäinen Suite, and the symphonic poems Pohjola’s Daughter and Tapiola. They are all based on the Kalevala, a collection of ancient Karelian songs compiled by Elias Lönnrot. Following the great success of Kullervo in 1892, Sibelius even planned a Kalevala opera, but his experience of Wagner’s Parsifal and Tristan made it clear to him that he was not born to be a composer of music drama.

Sibelius thus abandoned the opera project and instead began a series of four tone-poems or »legends«; the opera overture, which had already been completed, became the movement »The Swan of Tuonela«. Lemminkäinen, the hero of the suite, is one of the central figures of the Kalevala. He is a young man as handsome as he is reckless, a war hero and a ladies’ man in equal measure. The work begins with one of Lemminkäinen’s erotic adventures: he lands on the island of Saari, whose entire male population is temporarily absent, and amuses himself with the women until the returning men drive him away. At the outset, the pendulum-like movement of the strings illustrates gentle waves. The first, dance-like theme in the woodwinds can be associated with the island’s maidens, the second, a wistfully urgent cello melody, with Lemminkäinen. In a turbulent development section, the two themes merge.

The most famous movement of the suite is undoubtedly »The Swan of Tuonela«. »Tuonela, the realm of death, is surrounded by a wide river of black water, upon which the swan glides majestically, singing«, wrote Sibelius. He was fascinated by swans throughout his life, once comparing their call to the sound of a trumpet. In »The Swan of Tuonela«, he assigned the English horn to the bird. The accompanying strings symbolise the calmly flowing river.

»Lemminkäinen in Tuonela« – in this dramatic movement, the hero asks the Queen of the North for her daughter’s hand in marriage. She sets him the task of slaying the Swan of Tuonela, but Lemminkäinen himself is killed in the attempt. His mother tracks him down and brings him back to life with magic spells. The intricate story cannot be followed in every detail, yet dark string tremolos and grand crescendos conjure up images of danger and struggle. Towards the end, a kind of lullaby is heard: according to Sibelius, it symbolises maternal love.

In the finale, the shortest movement, Lemminkäinen, weary of his adventures, decides to return home. Dance themes, fanfares and galloping rhythms characterise this heroic music, which, alongside ‘The Swan of Tuonela’, was best received at the premiere. In 1900, Sibelius released only these two movements, slightly revised, for publication. The rest disappeared into his drawer after a second performance in 1897 received poor reviews. It was not until 1935, on the centenary of the Kalevala, that the suite was performed in its entirety once more. In 1939, Sibelius undertook a final revision, and in 1947 he swapped the order of the middle movements. The Lemminkäinen Suite in its four-movement form was not published until 1954, three years before the composer’s death.

Jürgen Ostmann

Dr Thorsten Preuß studied German, Romance languages and musicology in Erlangen and Paris. He was awarded the Lilli Bechmann-Rahn Prize for his doctoral thesis on Bertolt Brecht’s *Lukullus*, and has also published works on topics including Baroque poetry and radio opera. Thorsten Preuß currently works as an editor for early and contemporary music at BR-KLASSIK.

Jürgen Ostmann studied musicology and orchestral music (cello). He lives in Cologne as a freelance music journalist and dramaturg, working for concert halls, broadcasters, orchestras, music festivals and CD labels.