

When Brahms announced with a hint of nonchalance in 1866 that
he had just ‘composed sixteen innocent little waltzes in Schubertian
form’, their dedicatee, the Viennese critic Eduard Hanslick, gave voice
to the general astonishment: ‘Brahms and waltzes! The two words
stare at each other in positive amazement on the elegant title page.
The serious, taciturn Brahms, the true disciple of Schumann, north
German, Protestant and unworldly like his master: does
he
write waltzes?’
The SixteenWaltzes (op.39) are of course not music for dancing – as Hanslick
was well aware – but once more display their composer’s penchant for
variation, though here in a quite different vein: from the ponderous waltz
of the beer-halls of Hamburg to the sparkling Viennese variety, by way of the
Bavarian ländler and the glitter of the Magyar cimbalom, evoking Strauss,
Chopin, Schumann, Schubert by turns, he turns his hand to everything, and
everything is always deeply personal.
Originally issued in 1866 (though some of them date as far back as 1856)
for piano four hands, these waltzes enjoyed such success that Brahms
immediately made a version for piano solo.
Although there is no link between the individual dances, they form
a remarkably coherent group thanks to the combined sequence
of keys, tempos and rhythmic formulas. Above all, they possess a
flavour of early childhood memories – a childhood spent in taverns
accompanying his musician father on the piano.
53
GEOFFROY COUTEAU