Accordion Concerto

20'

Het Residentie Orkest Den Haag and ORF Radio-Symphonieorchester Wien.

Vincent van Amsterdam and ORF Radio-Symphonieorchester Wien conducted by Markus Poschner.

8 December 2023, Konzerthaus Wien.

When I think of the accordion, I think of my childhood. I see myself as a little girl, dancing for hours to the music played by my father. He is a jazz accordionist and bandoneon player. The music he plays on the accordion – folk music, jazz and tango - are important influences in the concerto. I added symphonic and theatrical elements as well. Fantasizing about the many characters and roles the accordeon can play, I thought of the musician on the corner of the street. In my imagination he transformed into a mysterious, nameless and ageless traveller: a storyteller. The instrument also reminded me of a book, revealing as it opens up the pages on which stories are written.

This is how the piece starts. The accordion is slowly opened, initiating a dramatic sigh that is released by the orchestra, moving from the highest registers all the way down to a deep, quiet pedal point. Now the accordion starts to sing softly, presenting the simple main theme in a free, almost improvised way. The atmosphere is desolate. Bells are ringing in the distance. The orchestra joins in, elaborating on what was said by the accordion. But the soloist takes over again, letting the music evaporate into a world of mist and setting the scene…

 

Then, the second movement starts - the actual “story” - a complete contrast with the beginning. Now it is all about singing and dancing. The mood is festive, a little frivolous even, full of fun and energy. All the instruments are making merry together. After a while the festivities fade out and we find ourselves in a softly-enchanting world that is less bright, but still glowing and full of longing. We seem headed for a romantic outburst, but instead we get an intimate moment of solo accordion, briefly and sweetly joined by solo violin. Shy and hesitant, the accordion begins to dance again, slowly at first, until all the instruments join and everyone is singing and dancing even more exuberantly than before.

Although we do not know it, we are headed for a less festive direction. The accordion starts to become more aggressive, almost frustrated. Phrases uttered by the soloist are immediately mimicked by the orchestra, creating a sense of paranoia. The bass goes on unaffected in the same old pattern as if nothing is going on, but the soloist slowly unravels and starts to lose grip on reality. Gradually the music spirals out of control, until a final aggressive blow by the entire orchestra sends the accordion off into a frenzy; shaking, grunting, yelling, grinding to a halt and finally sobbing softly and breathing shakily. Its breathing slows down until it stops completely. Ever so softly we hear the distant bell. A ghostly string quartet echoes the dramatic opening sigh of the concerto. It is a quote from the wistful hymn by sixteenth-century Dutch composer Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck; “Mein junges Leben hat ein End, mein Freud und auch mein Weh.”

HET PAROOL: And then suddenly soloist and orchestra dance with each other, and you sit and listen with a smile.

 

In Mathilde Wantenaar’s Accordeon Concerto, soloist and orchestra dance together, but you can also hear a sad clown. You don’t need to use a lot of imagination to conjure up a black-and-white movie when listening to the brand-new Accordeon Concerto ‘the storyteller’ by Mathilde Wantenaar (1993). A movie set in Paris. That is due to Wantenaar’s language, but also to the nostalgic and lyrical quality of the instrument. Accordionist Vincent van Amsterdam had asked the Dutch composer to write a concerto. He came to the right place. She has known the instrument well since childhood, dancing to the music of her father, who is a jazz-accordionist. Van Amsterdam turned his performance into an adventure and truly became the storyteller from the title. The world premiere took place in December in Vienna, performed by the ORF Radio-Symphonieorchester Wien. In the Netherlands the Residentie Orkest baptized the piece. And because every configuration of musicians sounds good in the Muziekgebouw, it was possible to put eighty musicians on stage without overpowering the audience. For a long while, Wantenaar’s newest lingers in a sweet mood. This could take a while, the listener thinks. The tubular bells at the back of the orchestra enhance the ominous atmosphere. Then suddenly soloist and orchestra start dancing together, and you listen with a smile. Just as quickly, this feeling disappears and the accordion seems to depict a sad clown. Wantenaar plays with your mood. The music moves from one thing to another, from rough improvisation above a fierce rhythm in the strings to the sighing of the accordion. After the break the music-box tones of Stravinsky’s Petrushka. But what really lingers is the new Wantenaar: an inventive and soberly-written piece for a wonderful night out.” Frederike Berntsen, Het Parool, 18 March 2024.

 

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DE VOLKSKRANT: Composer Mathilde Wantenaar can do anything, but in the 'Accordion Concerto' she lingers long on a few finds.

 

When measured by copyright income, Mathilde Wantenaar is the Netherlands’ most successful composer. This resulted last December in the Buma Classical Award. And with two new pieces within a week, the thirty-year-old is on track for the next. First, Wantenaar’s new orchestral work Ballade premiered in Utrecht and Thursday Amsterdam got acquainted with the Concerto for accordion and orchestra, that premiered in Vienna last December. Success all-round, but the concerto conjures up the question why. That does not include the choice of solo-instrument. The days that it was considered a common windbox by the classical music world have long gone. If only because Russian composer Sofia Gubaidulina wrote such amazing notes for the instrument. Wantenaar’s father plays accordion, that too sounds promising. And who would say no to the fingers of Vincent van Amsterdam, a hero on the accordion. The piece has a strong start in the Amsterdam Muziekgebouw. Four soft, dissonant accordion tones slowly crescendo. Without being able to detect exactly when, the string section of the Residentie Orkest joins in the sound. Climax, short silence, after which the orchestra lands with a long, descending scale. Nice, the reference to Mein junges Leben hat ein End, the organ-hit by the old Jan Pieterszoon Sweelink. That Wantenaar has a lot to offer is also apparent from a sad, two-part melody. Wantenaar envelopes it in a melting, 19th-century string sound. After a happy country dance, she transfers the whole setting in the blink of an eye to Paris. Bal-musette! In the meantime, the ‘why-question’ becomes more pertinent. To compose lively music is one thing, but not to overdo it is another. And again, the accordion dances happily, and again conductor Anja Bihlmaier and the orchestra reap cheerful notes. To add to the fun there is even a Piazzolla-pastiche. Luckily this forms the introduction to surprising moments. Van Amsterdam rattles the keys: no sound. He pushes false air from the bellows and embarks on a solo with intense, coarse sounds. For a moment the accordion turns into the beast that it can also be. A wounded beast that moans, shudders and cries. When it utters its final breath, the orchestra plays one last echo of Sweelink. Mein junes Leben hat ein End. Finished. To be fair, there is nothing Mathilde Wantenaar can’t do. She has a sense of style and of shape and has mastered writing for orchestra to the finest detail. But it is baffling that the concerto is built on so little musical material. With too many predictable minutes the music loses its sheen. Music doesn’t have to be ‘difficult’ and can be pleasant. But beware of boredom in the concert hall.

 

Guido van Oorschot, De Volkskrant, 18 March 2024.

 

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TROUW: DiDonato's lessons make a big impression, Wantenaar's 'Accordion Concert' equally so.

 

[Joyce] DiDonato coached three singers this morning, and did so inimitably. It was intriguing, entertaining and funny. And she answered wonderfully when a young composer in the audience asked how to make meaningful music. ‘Ask yourself what story you want to tell with your music, with what feeling you want to send your audience home. Stay close to yourself, touch them, give them something to enjoy.’ It was as if composer Mathilde Wantenaar had heard those words. The same night, the Residentie Orkest in the Muziekgebouw, led by the excellent Anja Bihlmaier, played the Dutch premiere of her Concerto for Accordeon and Orchestra. Written for the virtuosic Vincent van Amsterdam, who played the piece with great conviction and evident joy. Wantenaar plays deliciously with the expectations of the audience when it thinks of the accordion. You continually expect a singer to appear – from Paris or de Jordaan – to join in. There was a tango, and a melody that sounded like it came directly from a French operetta by Massager or Hahn. As with DiDonato, it was intriguing, funny and entertaining. Wantenaar’s humour hits you in the guts when Van Amsterdam suddenly yanks open his instrument or conjures up amusing, loud dissonances. Or when he simply allows a whiff of air to escape. Wantenaar writes delightfully tactile music, and in passing adds ominous layers. The silent bell floating over the soft ending speaks volumes. Programmers, do not leave this piece on the shelf. Please perform it more often. These times deserve a Wantenaar.

 

Peter van der Lint, Trouw, 15 March 2024.

 

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DIE PRESSE: Exuberant accordion sounds. Did Bruckner's initial difficulties have anything to do with the unconventional opening piece? The premiere of the Accordion Concerto by the young Dutch composer Mathilde Wantenaar was scheduled instead, and this piece explores completely different spheres of sound than Bruckner. This skilfully arched opus also has meditative traits. But above all, unbridled exuberance is the trump card. An invitation, flirting with entertaining tones, to savour life in all its facets before it is too late. Loosely based on Sweelinck's hymn junges Leben hat ein Ende, my "Mein Freud und auch mein Weh", which Wantenaar quotes repeatedly in her concerto. The audience cheered the virtuoso soloist Vincent van Amsterdam and the composer in equal measure.

 

Walter Dobner, Die Presse, 11 December 2023.