A New Book by
Donald Maurice

Bartók’s Viola Concerto:
The Remarkable Story of His Swansong

Reviewed by Dwight Pounds

Evanston, Illinois, 1993

Any fascination Donald Maurice might have had regarding Bartók’s Viola Concerto was evident to American violists as early as 1993. A lecture at International Viola Congress XXI in Evanston, Illinois, by a relatively unknown New Zealand viola scholar and performer caught delegates' attention quickly. His topic, “New Light on the Bartók Concerto,” centered on his prolonged personal efforts to obtain a usable copy of the composer’s original sketches, his examination thereof, and his precedent- setting personal revision of Bartók’s manuscript. All illustrations were projected on a screen and copyright restrictions, 75 years in the U.S. versus 50 in Australia and New Zealand, prevented distribution of printed material and permitted only recorded excerpts to be played. Delegates questioned Maurice at length, obviously intrigued both with his insights into the concerto and by his solutions to problematic points within the work that seemed better or were more satisfying than the version by Tibor Serly. All seemed aware that, 44 years after its premiere, critical examination of Serly’s rendition and a new approach to Bartók’s incomplete concerto were inevitable. In addition to that of Maurice in 1993, Csaba Erdélyi had completed a revision of the concerto and had performed it in Budapest in 1992, and the composer’s second son, Peter Bartók, in collaboration with Nelson Dellamaggiore, was also engaged in revising his father’s concerto, later published in 1995.

Austin, Texas, 1997

Four years later at International Viola Congress XXV Donald Maurice chaired a two-session discussion with six additional Bartók scholars, all of whom received prominence in his book. I suggest that this panel, consisting of a theorist, a musicologist, a viola historian, two revisionists, and the consultant to a third revisionist, was the most qualified ever to discuss the Bartók Viola Concerto or any other topic in the history of international viola congresses. In addition to Maurice, the panel included Elliott Antokoletz (University of Texas) and author of Study of Tonality and Progression in Bartók’s Music; David Dalton (Brigham Young University), whose interviews with Tibor Serly and William Primrose were part of his 1970 doctoral thesis; Csaba Erdélyi (Bloomington, Indiana) who had completed his own revision of the viola concerto and performed it in Budapest in 1992; Malcolm Gillies (University of Queensland, Brisbane, Australia), internationally recognized musicologist with a special interest in the life and music of Béla Bartók; and Paul Neubauer (New York), concert artist and consultant violist to Peter Bartók on his revision. Each of the scholars commented on the viola concerto at some length from their point of expertise before engaging in sometimes spirited discussion with the other participants. Donald Maurice prepared a 25-page transcript of the two sessions which is published in JAVS Vol. 14, No. 1, page 15.

Kronberg, Germany, 2003

At Kronberg and International Viola Congress XXXII Donald Maurice’s name once again was linked with Béla Bartók, but the presentation was a preview of his new book, Bartók’s Viola Concerto: The Remarkable Story of His Swansong. He discussed various aspects of the book and the subject, including the book’s organization, the history of the concerto, the concerto’s state at the composer’s death, the involvement of Primrose and Serly, the three major revisions of the 1990s, and the important adaptations by Atar Arad of the original score. The listeners correctly sensed that a new major work regarding the viola had been unveiled in their presence. The gentleman from “down under” indeed had proved to be Bartók’s most driven protagonist and his most eloquent human voice.

Donald Maurice: Bartók’s Viola Concerto: The Remarkable Story of His Swansong. Oxford University Press, ISBN 0-19-515690-0, 2004, 222 pp.

In my opinion, Maurice’s book on the Bartók Viola Concerto is the most important work pertaining to the viola since the 1998 release of The Anthology of British Viola Players compiled by John White. This book, in essence, is the synthesis of Donald Maurice’s eighteen-year research on every meaningful aspect of the concerto he could identify. Persistent and sometimes nagging questions never seem far from his mind. Whose work is this we hear under Béla Bartók’s name that the author calls “enticingly incomplete?” Where is the border between Bartók’s sketches and Tibor Serly’s realization? Is it truly “Bartókian” in style? How faithful was Serly to the sketches? Did he take liberties and, if so, where and why? What input did William Primrose have on Serly’s final score? Is a definitive version of the Bartók Viola Concerto possible and if so, will we be able to hear it…and when? The reader’s challenge will be to expect no short, easy or uncomplicated answers.

The first five chapters are devoted to the genesis, reconstruction, reception, and structural aspects of the work. Chapters 1-4 will be intriguing to those readers who value historical progression. Chapter 5, “Some Aspects of Structure,” is demanding but rewarding reading. Maurice discusses evidence of the Fibonacci series and golden section in Bartók’s music and presents almost a measure by measure structural comparison of the Serly, Bartók-Dellamaggiore, Erdélyi, and Maurice original revisions. The next five chapters examine the issues that arise in the post-Serly era and feature Atar Arad’s innovations concerning specific matters of interpretation and style and legal issues that confront future possibilities for the work. These are in addition to an almost superimposed view of the three major revisions. There were times during my reading, particularly in Chapters 5-7, that I longed for copies of full scores by Serly, the major revisionists and the Arad adaptations, and any number of fully indexed recordings to match Maurice’s text measure by measure, phrase by phrase, movement by movement, revision by revision.

The author is careful to discuss the effects of cross-influence among the three revisions in his introduction and Chapter 6, “Revisions.” He establishes that Peter Bartók’s revision is free of cross influence and for purposes of this book treats his own 1993 revision strictly as a historical document. Maurice states that if the legal restrictions that prevent him from performing the work were lifted, his revision would “gladly undergo further refinement,” partly due to cross-influence and partly resulting from further research. Erdélyi likewise has revised his score twice, in 1996 and 2001, presumably for similar reasons. The author, commenting upon Erdélyi’s most recent revision, writes:

“In his quest for the definitive version, Erdélyi once again revised his work in preparation for a performance at the opening night concert of the Twenty-ninth International Viola Congress in Wellington, New Zealand, on April 8, 2001. …This performance was in many aspects a historic occasion. It was the first time a performance of the Bartók Viola Concerto other than the Serly or Peter Bartók versions had ever been performed ‘legally.’” 1

To my thinking Chapter 7, “Authenticity,” is the heart of the book. In this regard Maurice writes early in the chapter:

“As Serly’s experiences had been only with completed works and Bartók was unlikely to have shown him early drafts of any other works, he may not even have been aware of how different an early and final draft of Bartók’s could be. Current scholarship suggests that orchestrating the sketches as they stand is inadequate to bring this work to the caliber of his other late works. 2

Further pursuing authenticity, the author compares the Viola Concerto to “a work of similar genre, the Second Violin Concerto, with its various drafts available for scrutiny.” Applying a model developed by László Somfai based on Bartók’s late compositional procedures to the first movement of the Violin Concerto, Maurice draws implications for how the Viola Concerto probably would have evolved. He is not engaged in wistful thinking—Maurice is looking to the future and at the possibility of a definitive version of Bartók’s Viola Concerto. He hypothesizes that this is possible though dependant upon resolution of legal issues and additional scholarship. Returning for the moment to Somfai’s model: Maurice establishes that the Viola Concerto sketches lie somewhere between the first and second steps of a six- to eight-step process, thus “substantially incomplete” as Malcolm Gillis wrote in the editor’s preface. Had Bartók lived longer and utilized the approach identified by Somfai, the concerto would have been subject to addition or reordering of measures, possible increased rhythmic complexity, rebarring, indications for dynamics, phrasing, and tempi, and then orchestration. Close consultation with the artist also would have been integral to this process (i.e. Paul Neubauer to Peter Bartók and Nelson Dellamaggiore), an interaction which never occurred between Béla Bartók and William Primrose.

Since Maurice’s analysis is heavily dependent upon detailed assessment of Tibor Serly’s realization of Bartók’s sketches, any knowledgeable reader certainly will be interested to learn how the author treats Serly and William Primrose, the two people most responsible for the concerto as we know it.

Maurice writes of Tibor Serly:

“It is to Tibor Serly that credit must be given for bringing into the viola repertoire Bartók’s Viola Concerto, possibly the most performed and recorded work for solo viola and orchestra of all time. The task that faced Serly was immense, much more difficult than actually writing a new work, as he had to attempt to put himself inside the mind of another.” 3

Having made this acknowledgment, Serly’s realization of the concerto—the standard against which the major revisionists measured themselves—is under near continuous scrutiny and Maurice is not hesitant to challenge any of Serly’s procedures, decisions, or claims. Referring to the transposition of measures 114-33 in the third movement, he writes:

“Here Serly transposed the entire section up a semitone. This was inexcusable and surprising from a man who claimed to be so close to Bartók’s compositional style. The interrelationships of key centers is crucial in Bartók’s music, and this meddling in such a fundamental structural element makes this probably Serly’s worst transgression.” 4

Notice the implication that there were other “transgressions.” Primrose is treated more favorably though even he does not completely escape Maurice’s watchful eye. Regarding the addition of m. 73 to the first movement he writes,

“…the late addition of this measure was strongly encouraged, if not actually suggested, by William Primrose.” 5

There is much more to discover about Bartók’s Viola Concerto in Maurice’s work than could be listed in several additional pages to this review, but a few tidbits will be mentioned to encourage curiosity. As you read the book, you will learn Primrose’s opinion of his importance to the concerto. You will examine the mystery of the thirteen-measure fragment, the missing sketch page, the viola concerto that almost was written for cello, the intriguing contribution and importance of Burton Fisch to the concerto, and the interesting added measures to all three movements by Serly and/or Primrose. The issue of added measures is of extreme importance since all three major revisionists elect to omit most of Serly’s additions. The author writes:

“All three of the revisions have also taken the approach of staying as close as possible to the manuscript, in fact much more so than the Serly version.” 6

Conversely, Maurice admits that it could be argued that addition or reordering of measures was an observed procedure of Bartók’s late style and thus identifies the paradoxical dilemma faced not only by Tibor Serly in his realization of the sketches but also by Csaba Erdélyi, Peter Bartók, himself and future scholars in their reconstructions: does one treat Béla Bartók’s sketches as sacrosanct or does one use them as the basis for the free application of Somfai’s, or another, model in the quest for a definitive version?

In conclusion I am going to be so presumptuous as to suggest the order in which the book should be read for maximum gain. I recommend you begin with Appendices One through Six (pp. 159-190), followed by the Dalton reviews with Tibor Serly (pp. 36-44) and William Primrose (pp. 64-68). Resume your reading with Appendix Seven and carefully examine Tibor Serly’s “A Belated Account of the Reconstruction of a 20th Century Masterpiece” because Maurice will challenge many of these claims. After finishing the remaining three appendices, you will have done your homework and are ready to read the remarkable story of Bartók’s swansong.

My fellow Indiana University alums will quickly note Maurice’s references to the incorrect “University of Indiana,” a forgivable and minor infraction since this New Zealander cannot be expected to be fully familiar with the idiosyncrasies of American university titles.

Notes:
1. Csaba Erdélyi’s revisions of the Bartók Viola Concerto include the 1992 version performed in Budapest, another in 1996, and his 2001 version, performed in Wellington. See Maurice, p. 102. (back to text)
2. Maurice, p. 119 (back to text)
3. Maurice, p. 45 (back to text)
4. Maurice, p. 109 (back to text)
5. Maurice, p. 60 (back to text)
6. Maurice, p. 119 (back to text)

Related JAVS Literature:

1. Conrad Bruderer: An Analysis of Bartók’s Viola Concerto. JAVS Vol. 10, No. 1, p. 11
2. Peter Bartók: Commentary on the Revision of Béla Bartók’s Viola Concerto. JAVS, Vol. 12, No.1, p. 11
3. Panel Discussion: The Bartók Viola Concerto. Transcript prepared by Donald Maurice, 1997 Viola Congress in Austin, Texas. JAVS Vol. 14, No. 1, p. 15

Dr. Donald Maurice, Associate Professor of Music, Conservatorium of Music, Massey University at Wellington, Wellington, New Zealand, currently serves as one of two Executive Secretaries with the International Viola Society, is holder of the IVS Silver Viola Clef, and is in frequent demand as a speaker and performer at viola congresses. He was host of International Viola Congress XXIX in Wellington.

~Dr. Dwight Pounds is a frequent contributor to the JAVS as a writer and photographer and has served on the AVS Executive Board for over 25 years in various capacities. He was the third AVS Vice President, first IVS Executive Secretary, and is author of The American Viola Society: A History and Reference. He earned his doctorate from Indiana University where he studied viola with William Primrose and Irvin Ilmer. Dr. Pounds is Professor Emeritus from Western Kentucky University.