The bicentennial year of Robert Schumann's birth is an opportune time to turn attention again to his Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor – listed in the recent thematic catalogue of his works as WoO 1, and now available from Breitkopf & Härtel in a new edition (full score, parts, violin and piano version) by Christian Rudolf Riedel.Footnote 1 Completed just months before Schumann committed himself to Dr Franz Richarz's asylum in Endenich, where he lived out the final two years of his life suffering mental and physical deterioration, the Concerto has a tortured performance and reception history. A preface to the edition (in German and English) follows this history – from the work's composition in autumn 1853, through its early (private) performances over the next few years, omission from the composer's Collected Works (1879–93), publication and performance in 1937, subsequent critical reception and reassessment beginning in the 1980s.

Schumann was first urged to compose a violin concerto by Ferdinand David, concertmaster of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. Repeated encounters with the young violinist Joseph Joachim, beginning in spring 1853, moved him to bring the project to fruition. First came the Fantasy for Violin and Orchestra in A minor op. 131, completed in early September, then the Concerto, which he finished on 3 October. By mid-October the full score, piano reduction and violin part were in Joachim's hands. Plans for an immediate performance in Düsseldorf, where Schumann was City Music Director, fell through. Joachim gave instead the premiere performance of the Fantasy.

A trip in late January 1854 to Hanover, where Joachim served as concertmaster of the court orchestra, provided the first run-throughs of the Concerto with full ensemble during two rehearsals. After Schumann's institutionalization in February 1854, Joachim and Clara Schumann continued to correspond about the Concerto, and on occasion to read through it. In autumn 1857 they set up a rehearsal with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, but no public performances with orchestra were given by Joachim or any other violinist. Clara Schumann did not include the Concerto in her edition of her husband's complete works, not even as part of the special supplementary volume. Its publication in 1937 brought a protest from Eugenie Schumann, Robert's only surviving child.

The twentieth-century history of the Concerto is tied to messages from a spirit medium, Nazi politicking and questions about Schumann's mental health. After Joachim's death in 1907, his son Johannes sold the autograph full score, a copy of the full score, complete parts and piano reduction with separate solo part to the Preußische Staatsbibliothek Berlin (now the Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin – Preußischer Kulturbesitz) with the condition that it not be published until at least 1956, 100 years after the composer's death. In 1933 the violinists Jelly d'Aranyi and Adila Fachiri were directed by Schumann's ghost to find the Concerto and perform it. Contact was made with Wilhelm Strecker of Schott-Verlag, who arranged publication with Georg Schünemann, Director of the Music Division of the Berlin Library. The Concerto appeared in score and piano reduction in July 1937, edited by Schünemann, the solo violin part arranged by Gustav Lenzewski. The manuscript, of course, was not discovered by d'Aranyi, but had been the subject of discussion in various publications since its purchase by the Berlin Library.Footnote 2

The first public performance of the complete Concerto with orchestra was by Georg Kulenkampff with the Berlin Philharmonic, on 26 November 1937. On the programme were also speeches by Joseph Goebbels, president of the Reichskulturkammer, and Robert Ley, leader of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront. As such, the performance was ‘broadcast on radio to many countries and was transformed into a propaganda event’ (Riedel, VII – all page numbers refer to the full score edition). The American premiere by Yehudi Menuhin followed in December; d'Aranyi gave the English premiere in February. A recording with Kulenkampff and the Berlin Philharmonic appeared in early 1938.

According to Schünemann, his edition of the Concerto ‘is based upon Robert Schumann's manuscript (autograph 22), in the Prussian State Library in Berlin. The copy of the full score (to autograph 22) [found in Joachim's effects] and the piano score (to autograph 22) were also made use of.’

However, as summed up by Riedel, ‘The score edited by Georg Schünemann is based essentially on the copy of the score … and contains, next to many unauthorized additions of articulations and phrasing, serious errors … The solo part also does not take into consideration Joachim's arrangement and revision, which Schumann had accepted’ (p. IX, note 26). In addition to Schünemann's sources, Riedel's Kritischer Bericht lists the orchestra parts in possession of the Berlin State Library, and a copy of the piano reduction with inlaid solo part in the archives of the Robert-Schumann-Haus, Zwickau (p. 52). Riedel's primary source is the autograph full score (not its copy), with the copyist's orchestra parts serving as a first check for questionable passages. The solo part draws on the autograph score, and on Schumann's corrections in the Berlin and Zwickau copies of the solo part. Markings in the solo part are by Thomas Zehetmair.

Riedel's goal in his ‘source-critical, practice-oriented edition is to allow an undistorted look’ at the Concerto. He draws on all transmitted sources and explains how they are interdependent. Especially important, in his view, is his first-time printing of Schumann's own piano reduction (written under the autograph full score). At the same time, Riedel makes clear, there are ‘many practical matters concerning the music text which every performer must answer for himself’ (pp. VIII–IX).

In fact, there is a long history of performers’ answers to practical questions raised by Schumann's text. It begins with Schumann himself, who wrote to Joachim, ‘Show me everything that does not seem too onerous … and cut out everything that you feel is unperformable’ (Riedel, VII).Footnote 4 Schumann entered corrections and suggestions in Joachim's piano reduction. Still, Joachim recalled that the first rehearsals with orchestra did not go well. He wrote to Schumann in Endenich, ‘If only I could play your D minor concerto for you. I have internalized it more than that time in Hanover, when, to my chagrin, I was bound to play it so shamefully for you at the rehearsal, because I had so tired my arm from conducting’ (p. VII).Footnote 5 Three years after those run-throughs he was closer to, but still felt he had not achieved his ideal performance. He wrote to Clara Schumann, ‘We have to rehearse Robert’s violin concerto more often; the violin part is terribly difficult in the last movement, but I basically have it in my fingers now’ (p. VII).Footnote 6

Years later, after he had given up practising for a public performance that never happened, Joachim gave his reasons for abandoning the Concerto in a letter to Andreas Moser, written on 5 August 1898 and published in 1913.Footnote 7 The first, which Riedel and other scholars dispute, is that the Concerto shows signs of Schumann's mental deterioration. The second examines the Concerto on musical grounds alone, drawing conclusions that, often enough, turn back to Schumann's mental health to explain certain defects.

With regard to the music alone, here is Joachim's description of the tutti then solo opening of the Concerto:

Emphasis has generally been on Joachim's characterization of the ‘conclusion of the solo part before the second tutti’ as ‘difficult to play.’ More important, I believe, is his judgment that it was not ‘effective.’ The ‘anticipated brilliant conclusion’ becomes instead a continuation of the ‘second, gentle theme,’ richly ornamented by the solo. Emphasis is on the lyric, not the brilliant. The result is compactness in a movement that alternates, with few frills, between a stately, Handelian main theme in minor and a contrasting ‘beautiful soft melody’ in major – a compactness that allows little room for any extravagant fill by the solo.Footnote 9

For some, Joachim's judgment of the work has lingered. The outbreak of the Second World War brought yet another setback, attributed by Michael Struck in part to ‘heavy propagandizing’ for the work during the Nazi era.Footnote 10 In contrast, more recently (since the 1980s) there has been renewed interest in the Concerto and its sources. Still, the same question continues to dog violinists: how to prepare for performance a work that never found its way through the final stages of the compositional process, to wit, feedback from repeated hearings with orchestra and careful proofing before publication.

Naturally, different performers have made different decisions. When Schünemann published the Concerto, he brought in Lenzewski to edit the solo part; for the first performance, Kulenkampff called on violist and composer Paul Hindemith to go over the solo part. Here is Nikolaus Harnoncourt's description of Hindemith's work, as reported by Margarete Zander.

Harnoncourt and soloist Gidon Kremer stick to the slow tempo, adding three minutes to the usual performance time of the final movement.

Harnoncourt based his decision about tempo on what he views as an accurate reading of the text. Thomas Zehetmair also makes a case for the value of accurate reading of text: he studied Schumann's manuscript before recording his version of the Concerto with the Philharmonia Orchestra in 1988.Footnote 12 Joshua Bell, on the other hand, argues changes he made for a recording with the Cleveland Orchestra in 1994 from the standpoint of practicality alone: ‘some of the violin writing, particularly in the first movement, remains awkward if not unplayable. I have taken the liberty of changing a few passages which I feel have hindered the success of the work.‘Footnote 13

Both faithfulness to text and practicality on stage are important. With Riedel's edition, performers no longer need seek out Schumann's autograph in Berlin, or go it on their own using Schünemann's edition. For me another question remains: what about a passionate love for the Concerto? We hear about this from Joshua Bell:

Will audiences in the concert hall (and not just purchasers of CDs) have a chance to fall in love with Schumann's Violin Concerto? A query on violinist.com as to whether a player should chance the first movement as a competition entry brought this response:

Too bad. Maybe contest judges, regional conductors, and young violinists will someday think differently. As for audiences, given a chance they will fall in love – just like Bell and Schumann himself. ‘Oh, if only I could hear you play my D minor concerto, which my Clara has written about with such great delight’ (Riedel, p. VII).Footnote 16 The Concerto, to quote Riedel, ‘is a key work waiting to be discovered’ (p. IX). Kudos for taking a big step toward moving it solidly into the violin repertory with a well laid out, well annotated score.