Fritz Kreisler

Antonio's father, Giovanni Battista Vivaldi, had been born around 1655 in Brescia on the Italian mainland.

He was a barber's son who had reinvented himself as a professional violinist, and sometime in the 1660s, he moved to Venice to seek his fortune.

He succeeded remarkably.

By April of 1685, when Antonio was seven years old, Giovanni Battista had secured a position as a violinist at the Basilica of San Marco, the most prestigious musical appointment in the entire city.

He was known not by his family name, but by a nickname that reflected a striking physical characteristic shared by the whole family.

He was called Rossi, meaning the red, for the remarkable red hair that ran through the Vivaldi line like a hereditary badge of honor.

One of the brothers, Iseppo, turned out badly enough to be expelled from the city of Venice, earning him the distinction of being the family scandal in a household where the eldest son would eventually become a priest.

The family was not wealthy, but they were well-connected in Venice's musical world, and Giovanni Battista was an ambitious and resourceful man.

He wrote six solo violin sonatas, which were a monumental addition to the violin repertoire, dedicating each one to a different violinist.

Zagetti, Thiebaud, Anescu, Kreisler, Crickboom, and Quiroga.

But what a curious idea, writing six sonatas dedicated to six different violinists.

I mean, did he know them well? Did they study with him? Well, his relationship with each of them was different.

As for the others, the first movement of the second sonata is titled Obsession.

It repeatedly quotes the first movement of Bach's E major partita, affectionately teasing Thiebaud's habit of warming up with it.

And as for number four, well, Kreisler was in the habit of turning up and performing forgotten manuscripts by Totini or Pugnani.

But Isai seems to have suspected that Kreisler actually wrote them.

It has a pedigree.

Oh, I suppose Kreisler played on his uncle, hmm?

[laughs]

Well, Don, what'll I play? Oh, anything at all, Jack.

He later orchestrated it in 1914 and then orchestrated for band, bandified it in 1920.

There is also an arrangement for violin and piano by Fritz Kreisler that Granger apparently despised.

Now, although this is an iconic piece of Percy Granger's output, it's actually not based on the English folk songs he spent so long collecting, because it is instead based on Irish reels.

Irish reels are a specific type of Irish dance, specifically played in either 4-4 or 2-2, which indicate a fast speed, and notably don't have an underlying triplet feel.

Isn't that a crazy record? And then he went on to be the athletic director for Michigan from 1941 to 1968, doing so many good things for the school.

So, shout out Fritz Kreisler, which should definitely be Chrisler, because Fritz Kreisler sounds really cool.

Okay, a couple more things.

I think I talked about the painting rock last season when I brought up Michigan lore, but it's right outside the Washtenaw and Hill.

Standing room today is at a premium.

Michigan is coached by Fritz Kreisler.

He's one of the best and the most experienced coaches in the nation.

He's also the athletic director at the University of Michigan.

Dominic Tomasi,

left guard of Michigan.

Oh, I'd like to remind Fritz Kreisler of something he said before the game.

He said, if we've got a weakness in the line, it's Tomasi's a little bit slow.

And it is really a very, very dynamic two nights of the violinists playing a Mozart concerto of their choice.

And then they get to choose one work by Fritz Kreisler.

And this is something that was added maybe about 10 years ago.

We added this element for a couple of reasons.

It really is so nice.

It becomes like a built-in encore for each violinist.

And it's a nod to Joseph Gingold, who one of his favorite violinists was always Fritz Kreisler.

So we had one of our former laureates, Jaco Cusisto from Finland, arrange these Fritz Kreisler works, which were made, which were written originally for violin and piano.

It's a call to speak, to share, to let people hear the goodness of God.

There's a story I really like from the life of Fritz Kreisler.

He was a famous violinist in the first half of the 20th century.

Kreisler made a lot of money from what he did.

As a believer in God, I am called to tell people about him.

Like the violin collector in that story, if I'm a follower of Jesus, I actually have no right to keep this to myself.

The collector's words to Fritz Kreisler could be words for all Christians.

We are meant to take our faith into the world and let people hear it.