Day 176
25 June 2017: Dvořák –
Symphony No. 5 (1875)
It took Antonin Dvořák
a little while to master the art of the symphony. His first couple of attempts
had been unedited sprawls that were lost almost as soon as he'd written them.
They were followed by another two that were more worthy, but somewhat
derivative. In this symphony, however, he absolutely nailed it, and
consequently this is regarded as the first of his mature symphonies.
In many ways, this is
Dvořák's 'Pastoral Symphony' with delicate woodwind themes floating in an out
of the texture in the first movement, not unlike Beethoven. The thematic
material is distinctly Slavic though, especially its rhythmic quality. The
darker second movement has a nocturnal feel, and this moves with the slightest
of breaks into a recitative-like passage that introduces a particularly deft scherzo. Only the rather more forceful
finale betrays the lightness of feel conveyed by the earlier movements, but
again, it is unmistakably Dvořák. This symphony is hardly better known than the
first four, but deserves to sit alongside the more famous seventh or ninth in
the composer's canon.
Day 177
26 June 2017:
Lutosławski – Symphony No. 2 (1967)
The difference between
this and Witold Lutosławski's first symphony (see Day 81) is, in terms of time,
twenty years. In every other respect, however, it almost immeasurable. I'd
struggle to come up with another two consecutive symphonies by the same
composer that differ so much. While the earlier work is a conventional,
four-movement, Bartok-influenced symphony, this is one of his earliest
experiments with aleatoricism – the use of elements of chance in composition.
In the intervening 20
years, the communist doctrine of Socialist Realism, which Lutosławski had
previously been forced to operate under, had been and gone, and Poland in
particular had swung wildly in the other direction. With the advent of the
Warsaw Autumn Festival in 1957, Polish composers now found themselves
state-sponsored and actively encouraged to write music at the forefront of the
avant garde. Lutosławski had been influenced by a performance of John Cage's Piano Concerto to take a more chance-led
approach to composition, and this manifests itself in sections where the notes
are notated but the performers are given a degree of freedom over how, or even
when, they play them. The symphony is divided into two contrasting sections
called Hesitant and Direct, and while the first movement
sounds rather chaotic, the effect of the aleatoric writing on the first few
minutes of the second is breathtaking, and one that almost certainly couldn't
be achieved by precise notation. Make no mistake, this is an unremittingly
modernist piece, and the composer hadn't fully refined some of the techniques
he employs, but in this work, Lutosławski points towards a path that many
subsequent composers would follow.
Day 178
27 June 2017: Brahms –
Symphony No. 3 (1883)
"Racket? That's
Brahms! Brahms' Third Racket!" And thanks to that outburst from Basil
Fawlty over 40 years ago, I find myself only ever able to refer to this as
"Brahms' Third Racket" to this day. It is the shortest of his four
rackets – sorry, symphonies – and was written in a sudden burst of creativity
in the summer of 1883. The twelve weeks he took to compose it compares
favourably with the twenty years it took him to produce his first.
It is a grand and
stately work containing some of Brahms' best music. What is particularly
interesting, and it contributes to the overall effect of it being an
understated symphony despite its powerful opening, is that all four movements
end quietly. Also, the work doesn't have a light-hearted scherzo as such, instead there's an almost elegiac Poco Allegretto movement. I've always
regarded this as the most beautiful of Brahms' symphonies, one in which the
constant struggle between major and minor is one that is resolved through
peaceful negotiation. The one thing it isn't, is a racket!
Day 179
28 June 2017: Panufnik –
Sinfonia Mistica (1977)
Just as he had in his Sinfonia di Sfere (see Day 144), which
preceded this symphony by two years, Andrzej Panufnik continued to evolve his
musical language through an exploration of geometric forms. Being his sixth
symphony, the music is infused by his fascination with the mathematical
properties of the number six. It has six sections, and is in 6/4 time. The
thematic material is based on six triads, with six melodic patterns and six
melodic combinations. I suppose it's appropriate that I've found myself listening
to it in the sixth month.
Panufnik’s choice to
relate his music to geometric symbols was an attempt to provide, in his words,
a ‘spiritual, not a cerebral experience’. While no doubt aesthetically pleasing
to the composer, it has to be said that Sinfonia
di Sfere and Sinfonia Mistica do
rather lack the emotional power of his earlier works. This fact was not lost on
Panufnik, who confessed that, as he sat in Middlesbrough Town Hall listening to
the Northern Sinfonia giving Sinfonia
Mistica its first performance, he felt he had gone too far in allowing
intellect to outstrip intuition. It's taken me around twenty years to fully
appreciate this symphony, but I'd accept that music ought not to require such
effort.
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