Rachmaninoff Concerto 2 Order

[pianoman8]

Today on youtube while listening to Rachmaninoff playing his own concerto no 2 someone in the comments stated that Rachmaninoff wrote the 3rd movement first and the 1st movement last. This is a copy and paste from the comment "One important detail. The concerto was written backwards so the beginning is Rahmaninov out of depression while in the ending he is still there." Is this true?

Another question:is it true that Horowitz did not have this concerto in his repertoire? Just wondering because he never recorded it.
Thanks

[visitor]

not sure about Horowitzy, i don't really care for the concerto so the only time i listen to it is if i'm driving and the local classy station plays it for the 37,567th time (and the alternate talk radio station doesn't have anything interesting).
as for the musicology and program notes behind it, seems to support the assertion. not sure about him being out of depression vs in but the order seems legit.

btw, everything inthe youtube comments is truth! it's the gutter of the internet lol
widely reported to be:
Musicology:
Piano Concerto No.2 in C-, Op.18
Key: C-
Year: 1901
Genre: Concerto
Pr. Instruments: Piano & Orchestra
1.Moderato
2.Adagio sostenuto
3.Allegro scherzando
"Rachmaninov composed this work in 1900, and played the first complete performance on November 9, 1901, with Alexandre Siloti conducting the Moscow Philharmonic Society.

He suffered a shattering career crisis in the 1897 massacre of his First Symphony in St. Petersburg, by its first conductor, Glazunov, who was reportedly disablingly drunk—a fiasco the critics en masse, led by César Cui, laid at the composer's feet like an animal carcass. The audience—ever mindful that Rachmaninov had been expelled in 1885 from the local temple of musical instruction—listened stonily, glad for the failure of a young lion schooled elsewhere (in Moscow, he completed the Conservatory course in 1891, and graduated a year later with highest possible grades). Because of the failure of the Symphony No. 1, Rachmaninov began to drink immoderately. Believing himself unfit to compose, he tried concentrating on parallel courses as a concert soloist and opera conductor, but embroiled himself in a love affair that ended very badly. By the end of 1899, he was an alcoholic whose hands shook, imperiling his keyboard career. Between January and April 1900, Sergey Vassilyevich saw Dr. Dahl, a Moscow specialist in "neuropsychotherapy," daily, and was urged under hypnosis to compose the new piano concerto that a London impresario was asking for. Trance therapy roused the composer from his lethargy; indeed, he worked with great facility on an excellent new concerto—the Second, in C minor, Op. 18—dedicated to Dr. Dahl in gratitude. Never again in the remaining four decades of his life was Rachmaninov immobilized by depression, despite several convulsive changes of fortune.

The opening, C minor, movement in sonata form was composed last; structurally it is the most conventional. Ten bars of unaccompanied keyboard chords lead directly to a palpitant principal theme for violins, violas, and clarinets—motivic rather than tuneful, despite a melismatic extension for cellos. An episode links this to the second theme, in E flat, one of Rachmaninov's most celebrated melodies, introduced by the piano. Following the development and a maestoso alla marcia reprise, there's a brilliant coda—but no solo cadenza, yet.

In the E major, Adagio sostenuto movement, after four bars of Tchaikovskian string chords, piano arpeggios introduce a two-part principal theme, played first by the solo flute, then by the solo clarinet. Piano and orchestra develop both parts before a Tchaikovsky-like theme for bassoons nudges the tempo a bit. Further development goes even quicker, culminating in a solo cadenza that's been teasingly postponed, after which the original material returns, soulfully.

The finale is an Allegro scherzando in C major. The strings play a rhythmic figure that builds to a staccato climax. The piano enters with a flourish, setting up the principal subject—again, as before in I, motivic rather than tuneful, but admirably constructed for developing. This is followed by another of Rachmaninov's signature melodies, lushly undulant, sung by the solo oboe and strings. (In the postwar 1940s, this was garnished with words and performed unrelentingly by big-band vandals as Full Moon and Empty Arms). A fugato brings back the principal subject, followed by a Maestoso statement of "The Tune." Accelerating fistfuls of piano chords set up a crowd-rousing conclusion."

[goldentone]

A most colorful condensed history of Rach's career delivered from depression ("stonily listened" )  The general fabric of his cure seemed to be hanging around in my memory.  It struck a curious apprehension of what successfully unfolded for the rest of his days.  Rach's concertos are expansive, spacious, as opposed to Mendelssohn's comparatively concertoette dimensions that would have to require less players to attend that style.

[j_menz]

Another question:is it true that Horowitz did not have this concerto in his repertoire? Just wondering because he never recorded it.
Thanks

He also appears never to have publicly performed it. Perhaps, given that every  man and his dog was doing it at the time, he felt there were other works more in need of his advocacy.

[theholygideons]

Another question:is it true that Horowitz did not have this concerto in his repertoire? Just wondering because he never recorded it.
Thanks

I don't think he had it as part of his repertoire for the public. However, i believe he did play the orchestral part of the second piano concerto to accompany Rachmaninoff himself when they met in America. There's a segment of Horowitz playing the theme to the first movement of the second concerto in his documentary, 'the last romantic'.   

[goldentone]

I spent more time deconstructing your very engaging find on Rach's crisis and 2nd concerto program notes.  37,567 times would make it exceedingly popular around town.  Especially different to one who might hear it only once or twice a year in their town, as in days of yore.

He suffered a shattering career crisis in the 1897 massacre of his First Symphony in St. Petersburg, by its first conductor, Glazunov, who was reportedly disablingly drunk—--a fiasco the critics en masse, led by César Cui, laid at the composer's feet like an animal carcass. The audience, —ever mindful that Rachmaninov had been expelled in 1885 from the local temple of musical instruction—listened stonily, glad for the failure of a young lion schooled elsewhere

The expository imagery conveys the African landscape, if I may stick my neck out for some rejoinding thoughts.  The exotic naturally holds sway as an answer to the creativity bound-up necessary to surmount conventional soul surroundings and genius-withholding expectations.  It isn't impossible to imagine such luxuriant spaces even drawing health out from the deep tissues of the soul.

Between January and April 1900, Sergey Vassilyevich saw Dr. Dahl, a Moscow specialist in "neuropsychotherapy," daily, and was urged under hypnosis to compose the new piano concerto that a London impresario was asking for. Trance therapy roused the composer from his lethargy; indeed, he worked with great facility on an excellent new concerto—the Second, in C minor, Op. 18—dedicated to Dr. Dahl in gratitude. Never again in the remaining four decades of his life was Rachmaninov immobilized by depression, despite several convulsive changes of fortune.

Many people have experienced depression in their life at one time.  The neuropsychotherapy Rach underwent definitely worked for him, though there is a better way.  I have heard before in depression's diagnosis that you always carry it with you.  That's bologna.  Rach was not again affected by it despite upheavals in his life.  I was depressed for some months as a teenager, but got free of it.  All it is is an emotional stronghold.  It has a source, and when the problem is uncovered and ministered to, the spring in one's step begins to return.  This is achievable by one's own willpower, let alone God's power and wisdom available to everyone to easily overcome the dry steppes that can overtake us.

Following the development and a maestoso alla marcia reprise, there's a brilliant coda--—but no solo cadenza, yet.

A solo cadenza can be an intense moment for the pianist-- just you and the audience.  You want the audience to be with you, but if they are of an oppositely-wired mind, that's an especially palpitant moment.

Piano and orchestra develop both parts before a Tchaikovsky-like theme for bassoons nudges the tempo a bit. Further development goes even quicker, culminating in a solo cadenza that's been teasingly postponed, after which the original material returns, soulfully.

I suppose the writer of these notes heard Tchaikovskian influence.  I'm not familiar enough with it to know what that would be.  One wonders in such a vibrant yet relaxed setting as the music hall how the cadenza would be teasing.  After all, for those who know when the cadenza is coming, it is no surprise from the outset, and hence with one so familiar with Rach's 2nd, one might have an interesting challenge in bringing along 'one's self' to the concert.  There must be some great art involved there that I am unaware of, yet with the air of the ineluctable.

This is followed by another of Rachmaninov's signature melodies, lushly undulant, sung by the solo oboe and strings. (In the postwar 1940s, this was garnished with words and performed unrelentingly by big-band vandals as Full Moon and Empty Arms). A fugato brings back the principal subject, followed by a Maestoso statement of "The Tune." Accelerating fistfuls of piano chords set up a crowd-rousing conclusion."

The finale, "The Tune", as I conceive the writer shrewdly and humorously terms it, is one of Rach's most memorable melodius effusions for sure.  I read testimony of a person diagnosed with a serious disease having actually been healed by Rach's music as they listened to it regularly.

I would interject one might not pound so hard or accelerate too fast so as not to overrouse the crowd in musical intent if possible.