Carl Nielsen, Clarinet Concerto

Carl Nielsen was a Danish composer of the early 20th century and a contemporary of Jean Sibelius. David Fanning points out Nielsen’s importance:
One of the most important and free-spirited of the generation of composers who straddle the 19th and 20th centuries, his music covers a wide range of styles, from Brahmsian Romanticism at the outset to a high-principled, personal brand of neo-classicism in his last years. He composed in virtually all the main genres of the time, but he is best known for his six symphonies, which significantly contributed to the renewal of the genre in the 20th century . . . . His activities as conductor, teacher and writer made him the most prominent and influential Danish musician of his time, although international recognition was sporadic in his lifetime, it has grown steadily since the 1950s, especially in Britain and the USA. (Grove Music Online S.v. “Nielsen, Carl”).

Among Nielsen’s output are three concertos, one for violin, flute, and clarinet. The latter is regarded by many clarinetists as one of the most challenging yet rewarding concertos in the clarinet repertoire. Its overt displays of virtuosity and the wide range of musical ideas make for a brilliant performance when it is played well. Yet elements that have struck fear in the heart of many clarinetists include the use of the extreme altissimo, the grueling length of the work, and the extremely difficult technical passages. Despite these challenges, or perhaps because of them, it has become a staple in the clarinet repertoire.
The story of the Nielsen’s Clarinet Concerto is intimately connected with the writing of his Woodwind Quintet, composed in 1922 for the members of the Copenhagen Wind Quintet (Lawson, Carl Nielsen, p. 175). Nielsen planned to compose a concerto for each of the Copenhagen Quintet members. The first of these was his Flute Concerto, written in 1926 for the flutist Gilbert Jespersen. The Clarinet Concerto, written for Aage Oxenvad, was the second as well as the last of his woodwind concertos, finished in 1928, four years before Nielsen’s death. It met with mixed reviews from audiences (Jack Lawson, Carl Nielsen, p. 206). Although it elicited favorable comments from some, it was poorly received by others such as the Olaf Peterson, who called it: “absolutely the worst thing that this slightly too obviously experimental and provocatively sidestepping Dane has yet put together. . . Nielson hereby confesses himself to be a cacophonist” (Jack Lawson, Carl Nielsen, pp. 205 & 206). Despite this harsh criticism, Clarinet Concerto has become a staple of the modern clarinet repertoire.
Although it has gained an accepted place in the solo clarinet repertoire, the Clarinet Concerto does not make for easy listening. When I first heard the piece years ago, I remember admiring the virtuosity of the performer, but disliking the Concerto. The large amount of dissonance, the lack of catchy melodies, and the meandering length of the work, make for difficult listening. Indeed, Nielsen himself hinted that this piece would be difficult to listen to: “I actually have no idea how it will sound. Maybe it won’t sound good, but I will not compose music if I always have to compose it in the same manner” (Jack Lawson, Carl Nielsen, p. 205). Despite the fact that many average listeners remain indifferent to the piece, clarinetists still perform this work quite frequently, relishing the challenge it presents to push their capabilities to the limit. Robert Simpson writes: “The tense Clarinet Concerto, hitting every nail ruthlessly on the head, is the finest since Mozart’s masterpiece . . .”(Carl Nielsen: Symphonist, p. 146). After almost one hundred years, the Nielsen Concerto is still enjoying success. It remains to be seen whether it can stand the test of time as long as Mozart’s Concerto has.
Scored for string orchestra, a pair of bassoons, a pair of horns, and a snare drum, the concerto lasts for about twenty four minutes. Unlike the standard three movement concerto of the Romantic Period, Nielsen’s concerto is one long work divided into four separate sections run together without breaks. The first section, marked “Allegretto un poco,” starts with an energetic opening theme before moving into a lyrical second theme that suggests of blues in with its flat sevenths and slight relaxation of tempo. The second section, marked “Poco adagio,” is in ABA form and starts with a meandering, melancholy melody in the clarinet before moving into a militaristic B section in which the clarinet soars over the dotted rhythms of the strings and punctuation of the snare drum. Snatches of the theme of the first movement interspersed are generously throughout the movement. One of the most memorable moments in the third section, marked “Allegro non troppo,” is the counterpoint between a humorously disjunctive bassoon melody and the clarinet’s more elegant rendering of the same melody. About the fourth movement, marked “Allegro vivace,” Stephen Johnson observes in the liner notes, “The clarinet’s tender solo before the last burst of Allegro centres [sic] on the same two notes with which the solo part of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto begins—Nielsen would have known that this was Mozart’s last major completed work.” The cadenzas of this concerto contain the most challenging sections to the soloist. Covering the clarinet’s full range with rapid runs and leaps, they are usually accompanied by the snare drum, which plays a prominent role throughout the concerto. In the liner notes to the recording, Stephen Johnson sheds light on the snare drum’s unique role:
Nielsen described the clarinet as ‘troll-lie’. In Scandinavian legend Trolls are famously changeable: beguilingly beautiful one minute, hideous the next. Like the flute in the earlier concerto, the clarinet has an intriguing alter ego: a side drum, which Nielsen requests should be ‘of the smallest possible size and the brightest tone’. Throughout, the side drum behaves like an impish sidekick, goading the troll on; perhaps trying to prevent him growing too melancholy.

After covering a wide gamut of emotions, the concerto draws to a quite close, leaving the listener as well as the soloist exhausted.
Nielsen’s Clarinet Concerto presents something of an enigma. Its dissonance and the complexity of its melodic scheme could be one possible reason why this piece is not contained in the Canon. Another reason could be that Nielsen’s music does not neatly fit into either of the two main musical styles of the time, namely, serialism or neoclassicism. However, it has firmly established its place within the clarinet repertoire. What makes this concerto so appealing to clarinetists while being overlooked by the average listener? I think the answer lies in the fact that this piece is one of the challenges par excellence of the clarinet repertoire. To perform the Nielsen is almost a right of passage into the realm of advanced clarinet playing. Executing blistering runs, tastefully presenting the many themes, surviving the twenty four minute length and often performing from memory, are challenges that are just too enticing for the ambitious clarinetist to pass by! Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto, which arguably holds a secure place in the Canon, is not likely to be eclipsed any time soon. But for the daring listener or performer, Nielsen’s Clarinet Concerto presents a challenge for those willing to stray off the beaten path.