Interview, Rachel Barton Pine on Paganini

Rachel Barton Pine has a wide and varied discography - ranging from Vivaldi's charming concerti for the viola d'amore and the well-loved concerti right at the heart of the mainstream to sharply political contemporary works by Mohammed Fairouz. Among her other recordings are a collection of sparkling Spanish and Latin American caprices and Bach's unaccompanied sonatas and partitas - and her latest release follows in their footsteps, consisting largely of Paganini's immensely demanding solo Caprices.

I spoke to Rachel about her approach to these notoriously taxing works and how she rises above their technical devilry to find lyrical, even operatic, elements in the music.

The Caprices have been recorded a fair few times over the years, with many violinists seeking to scale this technical Everest and plant their flag. Have any of the existing accounts particularly influenced your own approach to them?

My love of Paganini’s 24 Caprices started when I was first introduced to them at the age of six, after my mother purchased Itzhak Perlman's recording on LP. I was captivated by the sheer variety of the pieces and amazed by the technical possibilities of what could be done on the violin. I was also moved by the colors and emotions of the music itself. Listening to that LP over and over, I dreamed that one day – if I practiced very hard – I might be able to play them.

Over the years, I’ve listened to many different admirable recordings of the 24 Caprices by artists of different generations. I must admit that I don’t have a favorite for the whole cycle, though I definitely have favorites for each Caprice (and it’s different artists for each one). But my biggest influence for interpreting the music of Paganini, whether it’s his unaccompanied repertoire, chamber music, or concertos, is not the playing of other violinists.

The cornerstone of my Paganini interpretation comes from understanding how Paganini was a product of the bel canto (“beautiful singing”) era in Italy where the human voice was the most revered instrument and great singers were worshipped. Listening to bel canto singers (Cecilia Bartoli’s album An Italian Songbook is a favorite) and working with bel canto singing coaches have given me important insights into phrasing and sound. Paganini lived at the same time as the great Italian opera composers like Bellini, Donizetti, Verdi and Rossini. They held him in the highest regard; Rossini even reportedly said that if Paganini were to write opera, he’d put the rest of them out of business!

I have spent a lot of time studying Paganini’s manuscript for the 24 Caprices. I use most of his original bowings and articulation markings. These bowings, while occasionally counter-intuitive and difficult, have a profound musical purpose that is audible to listeners (e.g. the “backwards” bowing in the middle section of No. 11 which gives the music a special lift, the alternating bows in the triple stops of No. 9 which give the second section a longer line).

These works by Paganini have a reputation as being virtuosic showpieces – and indeed the name ‘Caprice’ suggests that they are little more than mere superficial wizardry. Do you think that’s fair, or is there more to them than that?

While the Caprices are generally viewed as a pyrotechnical tour-de-force that samples virtually all of the most challenging techniques possible on the violin, it is Paganini’s inherent musicality that has always been the foundation of my relationship with his music. Paganini was more than just a technical wizard and a showy performer - he was a great musician who composed wonderful melodies. Paganini’s Caprices are miniature gems, full of character, with varied structure and adventurous harmonies.

I’ve regularly performed all 24 Caprices in a single evening’s concert and feel most honored when, following the performance, listeners wax poetic about Paganini’s musicality without ever mentioning technique. Then, I really know my performance was effective.

The ‘Bel Canto’ subtitle of this album seems to fit most neatly with the first work, the Paisiello variations. Do you think there’s something of the same operatic spirit about the Caprices themselves?

Absolutely! Bel canto, at its core, is about beauty and expression. Like great bel canto writing, Paganini’s caprices require agile technique with the capacity for incredible virtuosity, an impeccable legato, graceful phrasing, and the ability to execute fast, accurate passagework. One example which I think shows how Paganini was, at heart, a bel canto opera composer who happened to be writing for the violin is Caprice No. 21. It is a lovely aria which goes back and forth between the upper voice and lower voice, like a dialogue between a man and a woman. I find the melody absolutely beautiful, and it feels like singers ought to have words to it.

The final Caprice of the 24 has been the basis for numerous sets of ‘Paganini Variations’, most notably Rachmaninov’s for piano and orchestra. Why do you think this particular piece has been such a rich source of inspiration for subsequent composers?

Paganini revolutionized violin playing by making extensive use of the entire range of the violin and by taking violin techniques to new levels. No. 24 is unique in the Caprices cycle because it is a showcase of most (though not all) of his innovations, rather than an extended exploration of just one or two different kinds of techniques. The melody is definitely an ear-worm, so it’s no surprise that it has been used by so many other composers. I love how, in Rachmaninov’s version, the soaring major-key melody in the middle is actually Paganini’s theme inverted. Fritz Kreisler made a little violin/piano version of this melody, a violin version of a piano piece inspired by a violin piece! I also love that composers beyond classical music have made sets of variations on Paganini’s famous theme. One that I particularly enjoy is Richard Greene’s bluegrass piece, “Pagan Annie.”

Can you tell us a bit about the final work, your own composition based on the national anthem of New Zealand?

Paganini’s compositions have had a profound influence on me, so I decided to conclude this album with a piece of my own inspired by Paganini’s legacy of creating virtuosic themes and variations. I wrote Introduction, Theme and Variations on “God Defend New Zealand” in 2000 for the final concert of my first tour of New Zealand with the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. During my time in this amazing country, I had become enraptured with the gorgeous landscape, friendly people, and adorable kiwi birds.

Perhaps the most distinctive aspect of this piece is the second variation, with a duet between bowed notes and left-hand pizzicato. Paganini always put his melodies in the bowed voice with a pizzicato accompaniment, whereas in his “Last Rose of Summer” variations, [Heinrich Wilhelm] Ernst famously plucks the melody while bowing arpeggios. My husband suggested having both voices play the melody in canon, and to my surprise, his idea worked perfectly. This variation has evoked images of the distinctive characters of the north and south islands or the blending of British and Maori cultures.