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It is generally accepted that French composers<\/a> of the 19th and early 20th centuries were not by nature writers of symphonies and concertos. Perhaps the symphonies by Gounod and Saint-Sa\u00ebns and the delightful early one by Bizet<\/a> may be classed as exceptions.<\/strong><\/p> But where in the repertoire now are the piano concertos of Castillon, Dubois, Godard, Di\u00e9mer and Gedalge? Those of Lalo and Massenet<\/a><\/strong> occasionally surface, Litolff\u2019s Fourth Concerto Symphonique had a brief period of fame some years ago, and the C minor Concerto of Piern\u00e9 is certainly not negligible. But it\u2019s a fairly meagre haul, and not notably expanded by any concertos in the 20th century until Ravel\u2019s two of around 1930.<\/p> Saint-Sa\u00ebns<\/a><\/strong>\u2019s five piano concertos need, then, to be seen in the context of this dearth, and seen as something rather extraordinary. Happily, this composer is no longer viewed as some desiccated promoter of threadbare traditions, but even so his contribution to the genre is little short of revolutionary. <\/p> One point, barely mentioned in the context of these works, is that of course they reflected the composer\u2019s own pianism. Recordings of his playing show that he was a master of what was dubbed \u2018le jeu perl\u00e9\u2019, a style of crystalline delicacy, often with light pedalling or none, that came later to be rudely rejected by players of the German and, especially, Russian schools, where weight and brilliance were to the fore, with fingers pressing down to the key bed. <\/p> This light-fingered keyboard style had the virtue, for the composer of concertos, of lending itself to a contrast with richer, louder sounds emanating from the orchestra \u2013 which is not to say that Saint-Sa\u00ebns\u2019s piano parts are not sometimes loud, but volume never rules for very long.<\/p> Among the works that influenced him in this domain were naturally the pairs of piano concertos by Chopin<\/a><\/strong>, Liszt<\/a><\/strong> and Mendelssohn<\/a><\/strong>. As a boy of ten or so, Saint-Sa\u00ebns had been forbidden by his teacher Camille Stamaty from presenting himself to Chopin, whether out of jealousy or because Stamaty actually felt Chopin\u2019s influence might be dangerous. <\/p> But in any case, the paucity of the orchestra\u2019s role in the Chopin concertos could never have satisfied Saint-Sa\u00ebns; at the same time, a balance between the two forces had to be maintained, and he had no time for works in which the instruments of the orchestra \u2018run in all directions like poisoned rats\u2019.<\/p> As for Liszt, Saint-Sa\u00ebns later recalled meeting him as a 17 year-old: \u2018I already considered him to be a genius. Imagine my astonishment then, when I found that he far exceeded even this expectation.\u2019 But again, the flashier moments in Liszt\u2019s concertos bore with them the possibility of endangering the form. Mendelssohn\u2019s influence appears mostly in the more light-hearted moments. Whatever the influences from those three predecessors, one thing is certain \u2013 these five concertos are all entirely different from each other.<\/p>A guide to Saint-Sa\u00ebns\u2019s five piano concertos<\/h2>
Saint-Sa\u00ebns’s First Concerto<\/h3>