There’s always an inner steel to Bartók’s music: an intensity, even in softer moments, that keeps you alert, perhaps slightly on edge, wondering what’s around the corner.
The middle movement of this divertimento is a good example. A violin melody gently rises out of a drifting mist, then out of nowhere there are lightning strikes, sudden stabs of sound. After this point we’re unsettled, and the music seems to go between brooding and undisguised fury. It has the weight of a lament, but from someone angry at a life being robbed of them.
The outer movements are more in the ‘divertimento’, entertaining mode, with their dance rhythms and general vitality. Listen out for how the first movement repeats many core rhythms (‘diddle-dah’, ‘rim-Ding’), and how Bartók explores textures particular to a string orchestra.
When there is joy, it’s like skipping through brambles. It’s bracing, but not without thorniness.
The finale has playful moments as the solo ‘concertino’ group joust with the full ensemble, and at the there are fleeting parodies of a sentimental song and polka. The overall tone is hearty and forthright, bolstered by that trademark intensity. String players love to tear into it, making the most of the idiomatic, athletic writing.
