Mendelssohn Violin Concerto No. 3 in E Minor, Op.

64, MWV O 14

Since its premiere in 1845, Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto No. 3 in E Minor has

remained one of the most beloved concertos for its instrument and a staple in the classical violin

repertoire. It was also the last violin concerto that Mendelssohn wrote. Born from a close

friendship and collaboration with the renowned violinist Ferdinand David, this concerto was the

first in a series of distinguished violin concertos composed alongside the guidance of famous

violinists and celebrated the pair’s nearly lifelong friendship.

The story began in 1835, shortly after Mendelssohn became the Music Director of the

Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, where he arranged for David to take the role of concertmaster.

Three years later, in July 1838, Mendelssohn wrote to David expressing his excitement about

composing a concerto for him. He said, “It’s kind of you to ask for a violin concerto. I am eager

to write one for you, and if I have a few good days, I’ll have something for you…I’ve been

thinking of composing a violin concerto for next winter. One in E minor keeps coming to mind,

and the opening won’t let me rest.” By 1839, Mendelssohn was frustrated, reporting, “This task

isn’t easy. You want it to be brilliant, but how could I manage that? The entire first solo is written

for the E string.” However, after six long years, the concerto was completed in 1844. David

created the cadenza and offered frequent technical advice during the composition process.

Through Mendelssohn and David’s artistic collaboration, the concerto emerged as a

sophisticated, elegant concert centerpiece, earning it a spot as one of the finest violin concerti

written in the 19th century.

Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto No. 3 introduced many compositional breakthroughs for

its time, one of which audiences can hear right from the beginning. Instead of the traditional

longer accompanimental introduction, Mendelssohn begins with a short one-and-a-half-measure

The soloist enters with a soaring melody entirely on the E-string that builds in intensity before

descending into a lower register, making way for the second theme after a series of commanding

octaves. The development section introduces another compositional breakthrough, where the

cadenza—typically placed at the end of the first movement—is presented right in the middle of

the concerto. The cadenza is characterized by swirling arpeggios, ending with a collaborative

recapitulation of the opening theme, with the melody in the accompaniment and the soloist

accompanying. This exemplifies the concerto’s defining feature: the seamless and reciprocative

partnership between the two forces.

A single note in the accompaniment bridges the first and second movements. The second

movement, an Andante in C major, introduces a lyrical melody played by the violin. A

contrasting section follows, where the violinist performs a minor theme while providing its own

“mini-accompaniment” by holding pedal tones against the melody through double stops. The

recapitulation revisits the main theme, this time with fresh accompanimental material. The

movement ends with the violinist climbing softly to a peak before quietly descending home to

the tonic, C.

The interlude between the second and third movements is a brief but tragic respite, as the

violinist cries out a lonely, operatic melody in A minor that is ever longing and yearning for

more. This melancholy quickly dissipates as a stately fanfare sets the stage for the lively finale,

with the violinist answering in fleeting arpeggios. The soloist then launches into a quick and light

dance in E Major, traveling up and down the fingerboard in an excited frenzy over fairy-like

accompaniment, mirroring elements of Mendelssohn’s own A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The

accompaniment shifts the mood with a stately second theme, which gradually becomes more
fluid and playful with spiccato and chirpy passages in the violin part. The first and second

themes are revisited in new key areas until the coda, where the piece ends with a burst of

virtuosity, bringing the whole concerto to a radiant conclusion.

Bach Sonata No. 2 in A Minor, BWV 1003; II. Fuga

Johann Sebastian Bach’s six unaccompanied violin sonatas and partitas represent the

pinnacle of solo violin music, showcasing an unmatched blend of technical mastery and

emotional depth. The collection is divided into two distinct forms: the sonatas, structured in the

traditional four-movement sonata da chiesa form, and the partitas, which feature a variety of

dance movements. The second movement of each sonata, the fugue, particularly highlights an

exceptionally complex contrapuntal form that requires the violinist to perform all parts of the

musical harmony on one instrument, giving appropriate voicing to each part while also

maintaining a clear overarching musical phrase. These demands define the fugue as not only a

technical challenge but also the emotional heart of each sonata.

The A Minor fugue begins with a simple two-bar subject, developing instantly with

added voices and chordal harmony. Fluid, lyrical episodes intertwine between the structured

fugal writing, allowing the violinist to freely meander throughout the fingerboard in a series of

organized sequences, pedal tones, and more. The movement offers six pages of densely packed

contrapuntal harmony, and the violinist rarely has a moment to catch their breath before a new

iteration of the subject or episodes begins. The fugue ends with a triumphant yet curious picardy

third after a flurry of 32nd notes as the violinist victoriously emerges at the finish line. Bach’s

fugue from his Violin Sonata No. 2 showcases his unmatched compositional ingenuity, even

within the rigidity of Baroque contrapuntal tradition, truly fitting for his reputation as the “Father

of Classical Music.”
Sarasate Navarra, Op. 33

Before Sarasate’s career as a composer, he was first recognized as a child prodigy on the

violin by his father at the age of five. It is said that after witnessing his father struggle with a

difficult passage, Sarasate picked up the violin and played the exact passage flawlessly. He then

began his violin studies with his father and gave his first public performance at the age of eight.

Sarasate's compositions were primarily showpieces designed to demonstrate his

exemplary technique. His compositional strength lies in incorporating folk melodies or themes

from other composers. His best-known works include Zigeunerweisen, four volumes of Spanish

Dances, Carmen Fantasy, Introduction and Tarantella, and Navarra. His music often reflected

the folk dances of Spain, with melodies embracing a folkloric style. He typically refrained from

altering these themes throughout the piece, instead showcasing his talents through intricate

variations, as seen in Navarra. Most of his compositions begin with a slow, expressive section,

followed by virtuosic variations on a theme. Navarra is no different. The piece begins with the

twin violins playing a dulcet, seemingly improvisatory recitative before launching into the

rousing main dance theme. The middle section features a lyrical, slower waltz, giving way to an

exuberant display of leaps, stratospheric trills, rapid arpeggios, artificial harmonics, and left-hand

pizzicato. The piece then ends with a brisk, exhilarating coda.

Navarra pays homage to Sarasate’s birthplace in the Navarre region of Spain. His

inspiration likely stemmed from the Spanish gaita navarra, a small recorder-like instrument,

which he emulates through trills, artificial harmonics, and swift passagework in the violin parts.

The two violin parts are highly virtuosic, requiring the players to be completely synchronized,

and quite literally in tune, with each other throughout. The dual violinists dance freely atop a
sturdy foundation provided by the pianist in a sonorous celebration of passion and joy, creating a

performance that is nothing short of riveting for both the audience and musicians alike.