Introduction and Allegro Appassionato, Op. 92

Despite the merits of her own compositions, Clara has not been able to fully step out of the shadow cast by her prolific, brilliant, troubled husband. As a teenager Robert Schumann (1810-1856) revealed the literary aspirations that one might have expected from a bookseller’s son. Fortunately his father also recognized and fostered his son’s precocious musical talent. But upon his father’s death, Robert was steered toward a more practical profession (the law) at the universities of Leipzig and Heidelberg. In truth, Schumann spent more time socializing with poets and composers, learning more about love than law. He maintained the façade of being a diligent scholar for ten years before openly pursuing a career in music. Schumann was drawn by the allure of becoming a touring virtuoso like Moscheles, Paganini, or Thalberg. Ironically, he ruined his own chances for such a career by overstraining his right hand (a finger-strengthening contraption may have been partly to blame), turning instead to composition and criticism. We are certainly the richer thereby, for, Schumann likely never would have found time or inclination to pen the mature essays and works had concertizing and celebrity governed his daily routine.
Written in 1849, the Konzertstück postdates nearly all of the major events in Schumann’s life: his exclusive devotion to solo piano music, his marriage to Clara and the explosion of songwriting, his first attempts at symphony and chamber music, and his extensive work on a massive oratorio (Faust). In the mid-1840s Schumann began suffering nervous episodes and displayed manic behavior. These traits would tragically resurface a decade later, leading to his confinement in asylum and early death.
The Konzertstück bears a more descriptive subtitle, Introduction and Allegro Appassionato. The rippling arpeggios outlined during the introduction provide more than mere “ear candy” for they recur at several points like a rondo theme. Schumann had already composed his sole piano concerto, and this work benefits from his mature sense for orchestration. Formally, the Konzertstück mimics an opening concerto movement except that its swollen proportions lack the concision needed to give it more dramatic effect. Like Tchaikovsky, Schumann seems averse to take leave of his lyrical theme. Several times he approaches a possible conclusion only to veer off for one or more episodes. Schumann’s genius, which I describe as a lyric intensity offset by touches of almost adolescent frivolity, is very much on display in this work. He did not always fully succeed when attempting to move beyond his natural concise, even aphoristic style. Despite that qualified criticism, the Konzertstück deserves its place in the body of 19th-century concerto style works. Such works modernized the concerto form and highlighted those towering individual personalities that dazzled audiences across Europe.

(c) Jason Stell