Louis Spohr was one of the most important musicians in the 19th century. Unfortunately, today he is all but forgotten. In his time, he was known as a composer and conductor, and he also performed as a virtuoso violinist. Legend has it that Spohr was the first conductor to use a baton to direct an orchestra.

Spohr's compositional styles were creative and varied, and he can be placed somewhere between Beethoven and Mendelssohn in the development of the Romantic sound. Spohr wrote 15 violin concertos and at least 5 concertante, or concertos for more than one instrument. The Concertante in B Minor is one of these double concertos - in this case for two violins and orchestra. The concertante was a popular form in the late Classical and early Romantic eras. It tended to be more symphonic and less virtuosic than a solo concerto, and it gave the composer the opportunity to play with the wonderful sound combinations of a duo (or trio or more) as well as the full orchestra.

I love the mysterious sounds of the fields and forests, water and mountains. It pleases me greatly to be called a poet of nature, for nature has truly been the book of books for me.

Jean Sibelius was a national hero in his native Finland. He achieved artistic maturity right at the time when Finland was searching for its cultural and national identity, and as his early works were based largely on Finish legends, he became Finland's most important artist. When was only 32 years old, the Finish government granted him an annual salary as recognition of his contributions to the nation so that he could compose freely.

As a symphonist, Sibelius was certainly influenced by Tchaikovsky and Brahms. He writes on the same scale, with large movements and powerful gestures. However, his use of structure and form are very different than the German and Russian composers'. His works straddle the divide between Romanticism and Modernism.

Truthfully, Sibelius's music mystified me for many years. I have always liked the beautiful melodies and powerful sounds of his symphonies, but I had a difficult time understanding where they were going. I finally began to understand them a bit better after speaking to a German friend in graduate school. This friend said she was also confused by Sibelius until her youth symphony took a train trip through Finland. She said that for nearly three days, she would look out the window of the train and see the same view of dense trees. Finally, at the end of the journey, the trees opened up into a magnificent view of the ocean. For her, she said she could see the landscape reflected in the music. I think that we can find musical representations of Alaska's topography as well in Siblelius's music: massive mountains, vast, dense forests, cold seas.

The other thing that helped me to understand Sibelius was to stop searching for a structure that starts with an idea, alters it, and returns to the original thought, which is the basis of German symphonic form. Instead, I think of Sibelius's music more as a giant snowball. It starts with a small idea that continually circles around. Each time it rolls around it picks up another idea, and like a snowball, gathers in size and strength until it finally comes to a halt.

At the end of the 19th century, Czarist Russia tightened its grip on Finland. Although Sibelius was never a political activist, his music was more than subtly nationalist. His 1899 tone poem Finlandia became an anthem for Finish nationalism, and his second symphony from three years later is the most nationalistic of his seven symphonies.

Sibelius - Symphony No. 2, mvt 3
by the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra

The first movement evokes images of the Finnish landscape -- the trees, lakes, and mountains. The second movement offers folk-like melodies intertwined with the tentative pizzicato of the strings. The agitated scherzo of the third movement sounds like a call to arms or awakening of the national spirit. The dramatic change of mood of the middle section returns at the end of the third movement to lead us without break into the fourth movement -- a song of triumph.