Max Bruch was a German Romantic composer best known for his richly melodic works—especially the Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, one of the most beloved violin concertos ever written. His career spanned conducting posts across Europe, and he produced more than 200 compositions over his long and productive life.
He was born on January 6, 1838, in Cologne, and died on October 2, 1920, in Berlin-Friedenau, Germany. He was part of the great tradition of German classical music, but many of his works, including his Scottish Fantasy and Kol Nidre, serve as monuments to his love of other cultures and their musical expressions.
Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends of Classical Archives,
I am Max Bruch, born in 1838 in Cologne, a city whose great cathedral seemed to me, even as a boy, a symbol of music itself — vast, solemn, aspiring ever upward. I began composing when I was barely a child, and by fourteen I had written my first symphony. From those early days, I believed that melody — pure, noble melody — was the truest voice of the human spirit.
I spent my life among many cities: Cologne, Berlin, Liverpool, Breslau. Wherever I went, I carried Germany’s musical heritage in my heart — the line that runs from Bach through Mendelssohn, Schumann, and Brahms. I knew and admired them all. I was fortunate to study under Ferdinand Hiller in Cologne and to work closely with Joseph Joachim, whose violin inspired my most famous creation.
The Violin Concerto in G minor, written in 1866 and refined with Joachim’s guidance, became the work by which I am most remembered. It has brought joy to countless players and listeners, and for that I am grateful. Yet I wrote so much more: choral works, symphonies, songs, and my beloved Scottish Fantasy, which joined the violin’s voice with the misty melancholy of folk melody. In 1881, although a Lutheran, I composed my Kol Nidrei – based on a Jewish prayer chant for Yom Kippur – for friends and musicians, particularly the cellist Robert Hausmann, as an act of deep respect for Jewish traditions. I admired Jewish folk melodies as I considered them among the world’s great spiritual musical expressions.
I often stood apart from the modern trends that surrounded me. When others rushed toward new harmonies and restless experiments, I remained loyal to clarity, beauty, and form. To me, the heart of music lies not in innovation for its own sake but in sincerity — in the melody that moves both performer and audience.
My friendships and correspondences reached across generations. I knew Clara Schumann, respected Johannes Brahms, and was admired by Camille Saint-Saëns. I was not always kind to the new voices — I confess I struggled to understand Wagner’s vast operas or the dissonant future foretold by the young Schoenberg — but I believed every age must follow its conscience in art. Mine was a romantic conscience, faithful to song.
I died quietly at home, surrounded by family, in 1920, in Berlin, after a long life spent teaching, composing, and searching for the perfect balance between passion and discipline. I never sought fame — only truth in sound, and the enduring grace of a beautiful line.
Thank you for listening — and for letting my music still sing.
A Selection of Works by Max Bruch Available for Listening on Classical Archives
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Orchestral Works
- Kol Nidrei: Adagio on Hebrew Melodies, for cello and orchestra, Op.47
- Scottish Fantasy, for violin and orchestra, Op.46
- Suite on Russian Folk Melodies (Russian Suite), Op.79b
Concertos
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