Cello Concerto in B minor

Written at the end of Antonín Dvořák’s three-year tenure as director of the National Conservatory in New York City, the Cello Concerto reflects some of the composer’s American experiences, but is at the same time filled with the spirit of his beloved Bohemia, where he longed to return. 

The idea of writing a cello concerto certainly had something to do with Dvořák’s experiences in America. He was inspired by his colleague at the National Conservatory, cellist-composer Victor Herbert, who performed his own Second Cello Concerto with conductor Anton Seidl and the New York Philharmonic in March 1894. But the idea also stemmed from his earlier days. As a young composer, Dvořák had written a cello concerto, but never finished orchestrating it, and it remained unperformed. 

It is remarkable that this concerto boasts both a chamber-music quality — making it easier for the lower pitch of the instrument to stand out against the full orchestra — and a symphonic grandeur one doesn’t find in most other 19th-century Romantic cello concertos (such as those by Robert Schumann or Saint-Saëns). Dvořák continues the Beethoven-Brahms tradition in which solo passages (including several prominent ones for the flute) are balanced by full-fledged orchestral statements. The orchestra’s role is also not restricted to mere accompaniment — it always shares the limelight with the soloist and often even takes center stage. 

The concerto memorializes Dvořák’s sister-in-law, Josefina Kaunitzová, who became seriously ill shortly after the composer had begun work on the piece. It is no secret that, as a young man, Dvořák was deeply in love with Josefina, but their union was not to be; instead, the composer married Josefina’s sister, Anna. 

In the second movement of the concerto, Dvořák quotes one of his own songs — Lasst mich allein (Let me be alone), Op. 82, No. 1 — which was a favorite of Josefina’s and appears in the concerto as a personal tribute. Dvořák also made the almost unheard-of decision to insert a wistful and elegiac slow section in the middle of the finale which is, up to that point, dominated by a spirited dance melody. What is more, the solo cello is joined by a second solo voice coming from the concertmaster, with the combination of violin and cello (high and low) creating unmistakable associations with an operatic love duet. The dramatic first theme of the opening movement is recalled, as is a variant of Josefina’s song. Eventually, and only with some effort, does Dvořák gather enough momentum in the music for a few fast measures to end the concerto. 

After completing the work, Dvořák asked his friend, the renowned cellist Hanuš Wihan, to add fingerings and bowing instructions to the solo part. In addition, Wihan proposed some changes and wrote solo cadenzas (for the first and last movements) that the composer found impossible to accept. While some scholars believe these differences of opinion led Wihan not to play the concerto’s premiere, further research has revealed that Wihan was simply not available on the performance day suggested by the London Philharmonic Society. The organization soon engaged another solo cellist, Leo Stern, much to Dvořák’s dismay, as he had already committed to the idea of having Wihan debut the work. “I hope he [Stern] will be all right,” he wrote to the Society a few days before leaving for the premiere. 

The concert featuring the premiere was extremely long by today’s standards. In addition to Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony and five of his Biblical Songs, it also contained a performance of Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto (No. 5) with pianist Emil Sauer, and additional works. Yet the Cello Concerto was received with enthusiasm. Stern subsequently introduced it to several cities in Europe and the United States, and other cellists took it on as well. Wihan finally performed the work in January 1899 in The Hague, with the Concertgebouw Orchestra conducted by Willem Mengelberg. 

— adapted from a note by Peter Laki