It has been my dream to perform Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Minor Opus 15 since I first heard it many years ago. As it turns out, dreams do come true and I am scheduled to perform it with the Kitchener-Waterloo Community Orchestra in 2019! Normally, I would learn a piece of this magnitude right away and do any necessary background research as I learned it. In this case, I have decided to take a different route and research the work thoroughly prior to preparing it for concert. This study includes a look at the context in which Brahms wrote the concerto, what it’s significance was given his compositional output up to that point, the major influences on its composition, how the work was received in its time and why, manuscript and publication considerations, influential recordings, and the treatment of tempo by twentieth and twenty-first century pianists.
The Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Minor Opus 15 was more or less completed when Brahms was twenty-five years of age in 1858. The five years leading up to that were perhaps the most extraordinary years of Brahms’s life. After Brahms met Robert and Clara Schumann through his friend Joseph Joachim, Robert Schumann praised Brahms to his publisher. The result was that at the age of twenty, Brahms made a most impressive publishing debut. Opus 1, his Piano Sonata No. 1 in C Major, which imitates the opening character of Beethoven’s Hammerklavier Piano Sonata No 29 in B Flat Major, Opus 106, was dedicated to Joseph Joachim. This sonata was composed after what would be published as Piano Sonata No. 2 in F-Sharp Minor Opus 2, more than likely to publicly highlight Beethoven as his compositional model. In the same year, Brahms also published three song cycles and a piano trio (Opus 3, 6, 7, 8). Piano Sonata No. 3 in F Minor Opus 5 was also published in 1853. In this way, Brahms used works for solo piano and small ensemble to work out his compositional approach and debut himself as a composer.
In addition to putting Brahms in touch with a publisher, Robert Schumann published the “Neue Bahnen” 1853 article in his periodical Neue Zeitschrift für Musik stating that the Brahms piano sonatas were really ‘veiled symphonies’. This accolade was accompanied by a public expectation that Brahms would compose a symphony of his own. During this time, the symphonic genre had been dominated by the symphonic legacy of Beethoven and his monumental Choral Symphony No. 9 in D Minor Opus 125, premiered almost twenty years prior to this in 1824. Schumann’s call for Brahms to write a symphony thus further situated Brahms in the lineage of Beethoven and fostered public expectation and association.
One can only imagine the import that such an almost prophetic public injunction and strong association with Beethoven would have made upon young Brahms. He was initially flattered but ultimately intimidated by the weight of the thing. It took twenty years for him to finally publish his Symphony No. 1 in C Minor Opus 68, even though he was working on sketches as early as 1854. During 1854, Brahms also began sketches for a sonata for two-pianos, orchestral in scope as his other piano sonatas were, which, at the encouragement of Joseph Joachim and friends, was to evolve into plans for a four-movement symphony.
Also during 1854, Brahms published his Variations on a Theme by Robert Schumann Opus 9 for solo piano, which he dedicated to Clara Schumann. He also published his Opus 10 Ballades for solo piano, which he dedicated to his good friends and fellow composer Julius Otto Grimm. Beyond this, no new works were published by Brahms until 1860.
Beyond being the year that Brahms began to seriously consider the symphony, 1854 was a significant year because it was the year Robert Schumann attempted to commit suicide. Brahms was by now very close to both Robert and Clara Schumann and the suicide attempt had a profound impact on him. He moved to Leipzig to care for Clara after Robert was institutionalized. He visited Robert regularly and often caring for Robert and Clara’s children while Clara was on tour. According to a letter from Brahms to Joseph Joachim, Robert’s attempted suicide was the inspiration for the main theme of the two-piano sonata. Robert died two years later in 1856. This too impacted Brahms deeply, as it was around this time that Brahms abandoned the conception of the work as a four-movement symphony and began to conceive of it as a piano concerto instead.
From start to finish, the evolution of what had now in Brahms’s view become a piano concerto was heavily influenced by the input of Joseph Joachim. Up until around 1854, Joachim had been party to Liszt and Brendel’s Neudeutsche Schule. From 1851-54, Joachim composed his programmatic Violin Concerto in One Movement in G Minor, Opus 3, which he dedicated to Franz Liszt. However, by the time this work was public, Joachim reverted back to the ‘older’ multi-movement models for such works. He and Brahms would often share excerpts of their latest sketches with each other, offer each other feedback, and make real changes to their compositions based on each other’s ideas. In this way, one can consider Joachim’s second violin concerto to be a sort of ‘kindred spirit’ to what was to become Brahms’s first piano concerto. Even though Brahms had determined that the work would become a four-movement symphony, he had continued to toy with it as a two-piano score. The sketch was of a dramatic opening movement, an unusual ‘slow scherzo’ in saraband tempo, another slow movement, and then a finale which was never completed. Brahms, who had little experience with composing for orchestra, conferred heavily with Joachim concerning matters of orchestration. Having challenges orchestrating it due to the writing being particularly idiomatic to the keyboard, Joachim encouraged Brahms to consider the work as a piano concerto, which was in a way the best of both worlds and seemed to address the issues of the pianistically idiomatic nature of Brahms’s writing as well as the burgeoning need to expand into the orchestral idiom. Brahms wrote to Clara Schumann in February 1855 that he had dreamt that he was playing a piano concerto based on his ‘hapless symphony’ consisting of the first movement and scherzo with a finale.
When Brahms conclusively abandoned the four-movement structure of the symphony, the only movement that remained was the first. The scherzo of the symphony was discarded and elements of it were later used in A German Requiem, Opus 45, which was composed between 1868 and 1868. He also abandoned the slow movement and the finale.
Along with Joseph Joachim, a major influence on the first piano concerto was Ludwig van Beethoven. The earliest associations between Brahms and Beethoven can be dated to 1853, the year Brahms began publishing his works. On November 5, 1853, Albert Dietrich wrote to Ernst Naumann concerning the works of Brahms that “if his music recalls anything it is the late Beethoven”. However, it wasn’t really until 1862 that the association between the two becmae more widely accepted when Joseph Hellmesberger, having read through Brahms’s Piano Quartet in G Minor Opus 25, hailed Brahms as Beethoven’s heir. And much later in 1876, a review of Brahms’s Symphony No. 1 by Eduard Hanslick brought forth the phrase “the three great B’s”, referring to Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. Wilibald Nagle subsequently published a treatise called “Johannes Brahms as Successor of Beethoven”, effectively solidifying Brahms’s connection with Beethoven in the eyes of the musical world.
The early influence of Beethoven can be heard in Brahms’s first piano concerto in several ways. Brahms had heard Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in that influential year of 1854. In addition to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 and what at that time was Brahms’s two-piano symphonic sonata sharing the key of d minor, one can hear a striking similarity between the recapitulation of the main theme of the first movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 and the opening orchestral theme in the first movement of Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1. Further, many similarities exist in the treatment of the dialogue between strings and winds. Both works have a first and second segment to their main themes which consist of “short, mostly very concise motifs separated by pauses” which are treated in imitation. During the phase when Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1 was manifesting as a symphony, it is clear that his model was Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9.
Months after he had abandoned the notion of composing a symphony in favour of a piano concerto, Brahms performed Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4 in November 1855. It is very possible that his preparations for that performance contributed to his decision to shift his conception of the work from a symphony to a piano concerto.
In addition to Beethoven and Joachim, both Robert and Clara Schumann had a great influence on Brahms’s first piano concerto. Along with the opening theme being a memorial to Robert Schumann’s tragic fate, Brahms wrote to Clara that the second movement was a musical portrait of her. In a manuscript for the second movement, a latin text is written below the cantabile melody of the high strings in such a way that the syllables line up with the duration of the notes. Benedictus, qui venit, in nomine Domini! translates to ‘blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord’. Floros says that “Brahms, in devising a musical portrait of Clara, puts (these words) into her mouth”, referencing the new role that Brahms took in the Schumann family during Robert’s illness.
Daviero posits that there is possibly a Clara cipher (C B A G# A) in transposed retrograde in the opening theme of the third movement in measures 3 and 4. D C# D E F are the notes in the concerto melody. If you reverse them, you get F E D C# D. If you then transpose this up a perfect fifth, you arrive at the Clara cipher. Whether this is a coincidence or an intended cipher will never be known for certain. As far as we know, Brahms never made mention of it. Further, it is not supported rhythmically in a particularly obvious manner, nor does it begin the melody. The transposition and retrograde of the cipher also seems unnecessarily obscure if it was intentional. Even so, once it is pointed out, it is difficult not to hear it.
On March 30, 1858, the concerto was rehearsed with Joseph Joachim conducting the Hannoversche Hofkapelle with Brahms as soloist. The official first performance was given in Hanover on January 22, 1859 and was received well enough. Five days later, the concerto was performed in Leipzig under the baton of Julius Rietz with the Gewandhaus Orchestra. The reception was very discouraging. It included sarcastic applause from a few and hisses from many. The critics offered harsh feedback on both the concerto and Brahms’s abilities as a concert pianist. Brahms wrote to Joachim that “my Concerto beautifully and decidedly - failed”. To Clara Schumann, he wrote that “you probably know already that it failed utterly. With deepest silence during the rehearsals, in the performance (in which not three people troubled themselves to clap) with steady hissing.”
As a result of the poor reception, Breitkopf and Härtel, who had published Brahms’s first four opus numbers, refused to publish the concerto. Rieter-Biedermann proceeded to print the concerto in only a piano solo version. In 1864, they requested a piano-duet version of the piece, which Brahms was hesitant to produce but eventually did so for the money. The publisher finally got around to printing the orchestral parts fourteen years later. For approximately a decade, only Clara Schumann and Brahms performed the work publicly. It wasn’t until 1870 that other pianists began to perform it.
Perhaps the most interesting of Brahms’s responses to the poor reception of his concerto can be found in a letter that he sent to Joachim on January 28, 1859, where he wrote:
I believe it is the best that can happen to one; it forces the thoughts to gather together tidily and raises the courage. I’ve just begun to try, of course, and am still groping… In spite of everything the Concerto will please some day as soon as I’ve improved its build, and a second composition shall sound quite different.”
This letter fragment highlighted the interesting tendency of Brahms to germinate the conception of his compositions in pairs. Even though Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in B Flat Major Opus 83 was not completed until twenty-two years later, according to this fragment, its germination was in Brahms’s conception even as he wrote the first concerto. The concept of paired works germinating simultaneously is reminiscent of the Beethoven symphonies, which were composed in pairs. This is another way in which Brahms modelled himself after Beethoven. Similar to Beethoven’s fifth and sixth symphonies, Brahms’s two piano concertos stand as two works that both fulfill the requirements of the piano concerto form but do so in two entirely contrasting ways.
This letter fragment also highlighted that Brahms did not conceive of his first piano concerto as completed at the time of its premier. Given its transformation from a two-piano sonata to a symphony to a piano concerto (and even from there into a mass-consumable piano duet) combined with his admission that it still required improvement, there is a sense with this concerto that the work itself extends beyond any of its forms. Brahms seemed to be of the opinion that its poor reception was partially due to his own temporary inability to reveal the work in its truest state and that as his ability to reveal the work improved, it would be received for the masterpiece that it is. In this way, one can see how Brahms was influenced by the early German Romantic concept of ‘the work’, which was characterized by a piece of art’s “infinite perfectibility”.
This approach to the ever-incomplete masterpiece naturally resulted in a kind of endless editing process on the part of the composer. For editors, it was this reality that rendered the production of an authoritative version of the work difficult. Brahms was in the habit of acquiring the most recently published version of his works for his own records and making his own notes and corrections on them. He would then write the publisher to indicate any changes he wished to have made on subsequent publishings. It is difficult to determined if we have complete records of these correspondences. For this reason, it is very difficult to determine which of Brahms’s markings and corrections are to be considered definitive. It is therefore advisable for a performer to acquire a score that gives a detailed breakdown of the sources used and also offers legitimate options for passages where Brahms’s intentions remain ambiguous.
Since it’s original publication under Rieter-Biedermann, Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1 Opus 15 has been published by G. Schirmer, Kalmus Music & Co., Eulenburg, The Edwin A. Fleisher Music Collection, and (ironically) Breitkopf & Hartel. It has also been published twice by C.F, Peters Frankfurt, first in 1983 and then revised in 2010. The 2010 Peters edition of the concerto includes an impressive section of notes which thoroughly explains its 1983 sourcing as well as what new sources were taken into account for the 2010 version. It also includes several pages of variants for sections where questions remain as to Brahms’s intentions for the piano part. From what I can tell, this is currently the most academically rigorous score available. However, the score that wins the prize for ease of readability would be the Breitkpf & Hartel version. Having both copies of this score would be ideal when preparing it for concert. G. Henle Verlag also has plans to release a version at some point in the future.
Regardless of its poor initial reception, Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1 has taken an extraordinary place in the standard repertoire. On the Gramophone website’s list of top ten piano concertos, it is listed as third, were Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 as second and Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 27 as first. Naxos Music Library boasts one hundred ninety-three recordings of the first Brahms piano concerto. Included in this massive list is a recording of the live broadcast of the legendary Gould-Bernstein performance given on April 6, 1962 with the New York Philharmonic. This recording was released in 1998 and it includes the pre-concert disclaimer that Bernstein gave in order to (according to Gould) disassociate himself with Gould’s musical ideas. It also includes a radio interview which was held approximately a year later between Gould and James Fassett. One of the issues that Bernstein’s preamble highlights is the tension between orthodoxy and artistry. He tells the audience that what they are about to hear is unorthodox (for its time) but still worth listening to.
In the interview, Gould sheds more light on the events, sharing that Bernstein’s preamble was ‘full of the best of good spirits and good charm’. While Bernstein had framed his disagreement with Gould to the audience as a disagreement between he and Gould over dynamics and tempo, Gould had the opportunity in the radio interview to elucidate his decision more eloquently:
Part of the concerto idea is the sense of non-collaboration, the sense of willingness of the virtuoso to show off. It’s the tradition that emanated out of this that prompted me to do what I did. What went on last year was in no way a particularly unusual performance of that particular Brahms concerto except for one factor. Our proportions of tempi and dynamics tended to be scaled closer together than is usually the case. There was less exaggeration or divergence between what could be called the masculine/feminine approach of the piano concerto, between first theme and second theme, between the barking of the orchestra and the placidity of the piano. It was a much more tightly welded unit, what I wanted to do. Now, Lenny felt that in order to preserve the antagonism between orchestra and piano, there ought to be greater contrast, larger dynamic spans and greater changes of tempi. I was at that time, and still am, in a Baroque-ish mood as far as even the nineteenth century concerto literature is concerned. I was trying to bring a common pulse to the movements and to hold things together in that (if rather arbitrary but for me very convinced) way. It was the meeting at two points of our particular metamorphosis in which he was more in favour of the tradition which has accrued around the concerto style, and I wished at that moment ready to break from it.
While Gould does not appeal to Brahms’s intentions as the foundation for his experiment, it strikes me that the Brahms Piano Concerto No. 1 is particularly suited to such an experiment given the nature that it acquired through its orchestral genesis. The fact that it spent a significant portion of time germinating as a symphony combined with the orchestral nature of Brahms’s piano writing makes it unique in the piano concerto repertoire. Perhaps this contributed to the reason it was so poorly received at it’s Frankfurt premier. These features made it a ripe candidate for Gould’s experimental break away from the more virtuosic approach to the performance tradition of Romantic concerti as it was in the mid twentieth century. In a way, he was exploring a side of the concerto that may have been neglected due to the performance tradition surrounding its genre.
To put Gould’s recording into perspective with respect to tempos, a survey of tempi from recordings by Backhaus, Schnabel, Gould, Brendel, and Fleischer shows that while Gould’s tempo for the first movement is the slowest, there are many other pianists who take approximately the same amount of time to perform the concerto from start to finish. In the first movement when one conducts two beats per measure, Gould’s first movement tempo is the slowest at 42 beats per minute with a full length performance of 54 minutes. Brendel’s total time is very close to Gould’s, clocking in at 52 minutes total with a first movement tempo of 51 beats per minute. Schnabel is also close to Brendel, with a total time of 47 minutes and a first movement tempo of 50 beats per minute. While Gould’s first movement tempo is the slowest in the group, his second movement makes up time where the Brendel and Schnabel recordings take more time in their second movements, thus coming out approximately equal in total length. This reflects Gould’s intentions as stated in the radio interview, achieving a more consistent ‘Baroque-ish’ approach to tempo.
For a recording that is on the opposite spectrum of tempi, Backhaus’s total time is 42 minutes with a first movement tempo of 56 beats per minute, and Flescher’s total time was 46 minutes with a first movement tempo of 62 beats per minute. Something between these faster tempos and the slower ones reflects a more conventional approach to tempo.
By the time Brahms was nearing the end of his life, the evolution of the piano had developed to such a degree that the instruments of his day closely resembled those we perform his concerti on today. Brahms premiered the work on a Baumgardten & Heins grand piano, which he enjoyed and recommended to Joachim as an ideal family instrument. However, during the last twenty-five years of his life, Brahms would perform his piano concerti on Bösendorfer instruments when in Vienna and Beckstein or Steinway instruments when in Germany. The increase in volume and power of these instruments suited his large conception of the works. He especially liked that they allowed for an enlarging of the string sections in the orchestra, which produced a more engulfing audience experience. As a performer, it is interesting to contemplate that while Brahms may have originally composed his first concerto on a weaker instrument, he ultimately approved it to be performed on the pianos that we are familiar with today. That isn’t to say that he necessarily preferred the modern piano over older piano models. He kept a Streicher in his home until he died, even though he had more than enough means to include a Steinway or Bechstein in his fleet. In the end, the instrument upon which composed his late Ballades for solo piano was not a modern piano. Regardless of this, when it came to performing his concertos, the modern piano pleased him.
Amongst the available scholarship on Brahms, I particularly enjoyed Heather Platt’s extensive “Johannes Brahms: A Guide to Research”. In addition to a succinct biography, she gives an overview of the research that has accumulated surrounding Brahms spanning the time of his death to 2003. In a kind of literary review, she lists and annotates the works of Brahms’s early biographers as well as contents of the collections of letters between Brahms and certain persons (such as Joseph Joachim and Clara Schumann) and the contents of Brahms’s personal library. She lists the first collected edition of Brahms’s compositions and details the post-WWII explorations of manuscript sources with a special focus on the surge in Brahms research that occurred in the 1970’s. There are listening guides to Brahms’s compositions and a catalogue of theoretical analysis by both Schenker and Schoenberg. She details Brahms’s love of early music and the ways he was influenced by it. She catalogues accounts of how his music was received in his day, studies how he was influenced by certain cities (such as Leipzig), and explores how his political views had an impact on his compositions. She offers a survey of the research done into finding narratives in Brahms’s works through his quotations and allusions. She explores period performance considerations and the factors at play, including the types of pianos Brahms would have used and the tradition surrounding vibrato, portamento, and rubato in his day. She compares early recordings with descriptions of nineteenth century performance. The only other work that might surpass Platt’s work is Thomas Quigley’s bibliography of Brahms research, containing over 5000 entries. However, Platt’s work is very comprehensive, including a systematic working through of Quigley’s bibliography, sorting the most significant research by usefulness according to work and topic. Given the exhaustiveness of the source, she includes her thoughts on what gaps still remain in Brahms research, that a proper indexing of correspondence is still needed, a correction of incorrectly transcribed letters is still necessary, a revision and correction of early biographies should be attempted, and the correcting of sources that use incorrect information from those early biographies still remains. Platt offers an excellent starting place for any Brahms research.
Regarding Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Platt lists seven key resources. With respect to the correction of a misprint in measures 237-238 of the published score of the third movement, she sites an article by Paul Badura-Skoda. A source by Peter Böttinger argues for a connection between the tragedy surrounding Robert Schumann and certain compositional problems that Brahms was dealing with during the composition of Opus 15. A source that seeks to reconcile some conflicting information between primary sources by Kalbeck and Jenner regarding the genesis of Opus 15 with respect to its connection to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 and the Schumanns, Platt puts forward thoughts by George Bozarth. For a Schenkerian analysis of how how Brahms’s Opus 15 is similar to Beethoven’s Piano Concert No. 3 in the foreground but dissimilar in the middle ground, Platt offers a source by Michael Collier. By way of a ‘sound introduction’ to Brahms Opus 15 that includes an exploration of its extended compositional process, correspondences that trace its development, an analysis of the form of the piece, tables that outline its movements, motives and their transformations, reprints of certain letters between Brahms and Joachim, early reviews, the autograph, and photos of Brahms, Clara Schumann and Joachim, Platt offers Carl Dahlhaus’s 1965 treatise on Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1. Platt also puts forward a source by Joseph Dubiel which offers a structural analysis of how certain issues presented in the first movement are resolved in subsequent movements. Finally, Platt sites Gustav Jenner (Brahms’s only composition student) who uses Brahms’s letters to more thoroughly catalogue the evolution of this piece from its initial piano-duo version to it’s concerto form and it’s relationship to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9.
There are so many good reasons to do background research on a work before learning it - becoming familiar white the problems one might expect to encounter, knowing about the resources that are at hand to address them, discerning which editions reflect the most recent scholarship, developing a robust conceptualization of the genesis of a work, and developing an appreciation of the richness and scope of imagination necessary to bring such a work to the concert stage. Understanding the historical context and performance considerations surrounding Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Minor Opus 15 can only enrich one’s ability to bring a thoughtful and mature interpretation of this great work to audiences where they can absorb the genius of this magnificent work.
Backhaus, Wilhelm and the BBC Symphony Orchestra. BRAHMS: Piano Concerto No. 1 (Backhaus) 1932, CD, 2003 on Naxos Music Library. Accessed May 9, 2018. https:// uwolib-naxosmusiclibrary-com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/catalogue/item.asp?cid=8.110699.
Badura-Skoda, Paul. “Fehler-Fehler! Einige Anmerkungen zu weiterverbreiteten Fehlern in klassischen Notenausgaben.” Österreichische Musikzeitschrift 42/2-3 (February-March 1987): 92-98.
Beller-McKenna, Daniel. Brahms and the German Spirit. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2004.
Böttinger, Peter. “Jahre der Krise, Krise der Form: Beobachtungen am 1. Satz des Klavierkonzertes op. 15 von Johannes Brahms.” In Aimez-vous Brahms “the Progressive”? Ed. Heinz-Klaus Metzger and Rainer Riehn, 1989.
Bozarth, George S. “Brahms’s First Piano Concerto op. 15: Genesis and Meaning.” In Beiträge zur Geschichte des Konzarts: Festschrift Siegfried Kross zum 60. Geburtstag. Ed. Reinmar Evans and Matthias Wendt. Bonn: Gudrun Schröder, 1990.
Brahms, Johannes. Konzert d-Moll für Klavier und Orchester, Edition for two Pianos. Edited by Johannes Gerdes. Frankfurt; Leipzig; London; New York, C.F. Peters, 2010.
Collier, Michael. “The Rondo Movements of Beethoven’s Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, op. 37, and Brahms’s Concerto No. 1 in D Minor, op. 15: A Comparative Analysis.” Theory and Practice 3/1 (February 1978): 5-15.
Dahlhaus, Carl. Johannes Brahms: Klavierkonzert Nr. 1 d-Moll, op. 15. München: fink, 1965.
Daverio, John. Crossing Paths: Schubert, Schumann, and Brahms. New York; Oxford;: Oxford University Press, 2002.
Dubiel, Jospeh. “Contradictory Criteria in a Work of Brahms.” Brahms Studies 1 (1994): 81-110.
Frisch, Walter and Kevin Karnes. Brahms and His World. Rev. ed. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2009.
Fleisher, Leon and the Cleveland Orchestra. Piano Recital: Fleisher, Leon - BRAHMS, J. / BEETHOVEN, L. van / MOZART, W.A., CD, 2012 on Naxos Music Library. Accessed May 9, 2018. https://uwolib-naxosmusiclibrary-com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/catalogue/ item.asp?cid=886443289307
Floros, Constantin and Ernest Bernhardt-Kabisch. Johannes Brahms, Free but Alone: A Life for a Poetic Music. New York;Frankfurt am Main;: Peter Lang, 2010.
Glenn Gould interview by James Fassett, BRAHMS, J.: Piano Concerto No. 1 (Gould, New York Philharmonic, Bernstein), CD, 1991, track 3 on Naxos Music Library, accessed May 9, 2018. http://uwolib.naxosmusiclibrary.com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/stream.asp? s=153983%2Fuwolibnmlpd07%2Ftg2299%5F001.
Hall, Mirko M. "Friedrich Schlegel's Romanticization of Music." Eighteenth-Century Studies 42, no. 3 (2009): 413-29.
Holmes, Paul. Brahms, His Life and Times. Southborough, Kent: Baton Press, 1984.
Jenner, Gustav. “Zur Entstehung des d-Moll Klavierkonzertes op. 15 von Johannes Brahms.” Die Music (Berlin) 12/1: 32-37. “Joachim, J.: Violin Concerto, Op. 11, "In the Hungarian Style" / Violin Concerto in G Minor, Op. 3 (Suyoen Kim, Staatskapelle Weimar, Halasz)”. Naxos Music Library. Accessed May 9, 2018. https://uwolib-naxosmusiclibrary-com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/catalogue/ item.asp?cid=8.570991#blurb.
Knapp, Raymond. "A Tale of Two Symphonies: Converging Narratives of Divine Reconciliation in Beethoven's Fifth and Sixth." Journal of the American Musicological Society 53, no. 2 (2000): 291-343.
Livshits, Mark. "The First Piano Concerto of Johannes Brahms: Its History and Performance Practice.” ProQuest Dissertations Publishing, 2017.
Musgrave, Michael. The Cambridge Companion to Brahms. New York;Cambridge, U.K;: Cambridge University Press, 1999.
Platt, Heather Anne. Johannes Brahms: A Guide to Research. London; New York;: Routledge, 2003. “The top 10 piano concertos – from Mozart to Rachmaninov – with highly recommended recordings.” Gramophone online. Last modified April 15, 2014. https:// www.gramophone.co.uk/feature/top-10-piano-concertos.
Quigley, Thomas. Johannes Brahms: An Annotated Bibliography of the Literature through 1982. Metuchen, N.J: Scarecrow Press, 1990.
Schnabel, Artur and the London Philharmonic Orchestra. BRAHMS: Piano Concerto No. 1 (Schnabel) (1938), CD, 2001 on Naxos Music Library. Accessed May 9, 2018. https:// uwolib-naxosmusiclibrary-com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/catalogue/item.asp?cid=8.110699.
“Work Information for Brahms Piano Concerto No. 1.” Naxos Music Library. Accessed May 9, 2018. https://uwolib-naxosmusiclibrary-com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/work.asp? wid=127393&cid=8.553182.
“Work Information for Joseph Joachim’s Violin Concerto No. 1.” Naxos Music Library. Accessed May 9, 2018. https://uwolib-naxosmusiclibrary-com.proxy1.lib.uwo.ca/ work.asp?wid=224440&cid=8.570991.