Haydn Seek

1765 - The Music part 2 – A taste of things to come

Hob	Key	NC	HRL	Instruments
30	C	36	35	Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings, Trumpets & Timpani (optional)
31	D	37	37	Flute, 2 Oboes, 4 Horns & Strings
39	g	38	40	2 Oboes, 4 Horns & Strings
29	E	39	36	2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings
Hob = Hoboken		NC = 'New Chronology'	HRL= Robbins-Landon

For reasons that will become clearer, I need to go out of order with the remaining two symphonies from this year. No disappointment to me, though, as I feel as though Haydn's works in E Major seem to bring out a different side of him, as with Symphony 12.

Hoboken 29 is a classic example of the Viennese Chamber Symphony, a genre of its own that owes much to the divertimento in all its forms which was so prevalent in Viennese music of the time. Unusually enough, Haydn begins in a very soft dynamic, forming a filigree with the winds and strings interweaving through the theme. The two horns seem to provide a series of pillars through which the other instruments play out their parts. It is an interesting effect, one which involves everyone equally. This form is called 'singing Allegro', and according to Newman in his book 'The Sonata in the Classic Era', it was the basis for the sonata form. While it appears to have been of Italian origin, it caught fire in Vienna, where it became the foundation of the divertimento and eventually the 'Sonata-Allegro', the classic opening movement of thousands of works for the next 75 years. In this movement, the delicate balance of tone between the winds and strings makes an ear-catching effect. The second movement, played by strings only, divides up the parts between the first and second violins, just the way the first movement did with the strings and oboes. A high point is the very characteristically Haydn syncopations between the basses and the violins, hitting along a quarter note behind them. This accentuates the rhythm in an interesting way. It also spurred his critics to call it ridiculous, but we already know how much they loved the unusual. Not. The rather normal minuet in the third movement is capped by a particularly wonderful trio, in which the winds alone play completely in the minor mode, and which has actually no melody at all! More than anything it is the creation of an atmosphere that is accomplished here, a rather dark and strangely beautiful one. I'm sure this was an experiment on Haydn's part, and I wonder what he thought of the result. Or what anyone else has thought of it over the centuries. Whether it accomplishes whatever purpose he intended, it works for me, if only as a totally different and unexpected little piece of tone painting. The finale is a tour de force in which Haydn manages to accomplish the goal that WE set for him a couple of years ago, and he has shifted the focus of the work to the finale by opening with a quiet, moderate movement and closing with a brilliant, forte Presto which is unremitting in burning off the energy which has been slowly accumulating throughout. One of the sad facts about enjoying the music of very prolific composers is that the quantity is so large that it overshadows the quality. To me, this is the case here; if Haydn had only written the standard 'less than nine' of the Romantics, this would have been considered a gem in a handful. In the group that actually exists, it falls into the background noise among its many peers. So it goes. Enjoy it, preferably all on its own.

The final symphony of 1765, Hoboken 39 in g minor, is another work with some elements of forward-looking to it. You probably thought, as did I, that this was a later work. It is traditionally listed as 'circa 1766-1768'. But the New Chronology insists on 1765, so we'll go with it for consistency's sake. When the time is right, which isn't far off, I intend to discuss in very frank terms the idea of Stürm und Dräng, a ludicrous concept invented by a twentieth century musicologist with an overactive imagination, which has poisoned the well, so to speak, for any rational discussion of Haydn's next phase of symphonic experimentation ever since. I guess you can get a sense of where I'll be standing on the issue, but for now, let me just say that this work at hand is considered by many to be the first example of the genre. And indeed, the first and last movements bear many of the hallmarks of the works of the late '60's and early '70's. The opening movement is a steady succession of buildup and release of musical tension, heightened by the minor mode, and the unusual use of two pairs of horns, two in high Bb and two in G. This allows for huge sonorous chords and pedal points (these are held notes on a tonic or dominant that provide a foundation for the other instruments play off from). One very big point to note throughout this symphony is the use of silence! Especially in the opening movement, things will be zipping right along and then we all stop, count 1 or 2, then go again. This was something that Haydn would use frequently in later years, but I can't think of an earlier work where it shows up. Maybe I overlooked it? Anyway, it adds a part to the tension, as does the fact that Haydn uses the same theme throughout the entire movement, as though he can't escape it. The whole movement is unlike anything which came before, at least anything I have ever heard.

I'm not sure if this is an early example of one of Haydn's jokes, but the second movement here is about as far from Stürm und Dräng as you can get, being a totally galant sort of an Andante of the sort Haydn wrote a few years earlier. Robbins-Landon and many others criticize him for this, saying that he hasn't learned yet how to maintain tension throughout an entire piece, but it is my opinion that he intentionally is backing away from where he started out. This is a little sort of march just for strings, and while it does indeed veer off from whatever sort of course you imagined, it is rather nice just as it is. Note, however, Haydn continues the use of the tiny full-stops from time to time even in this seemingly 'old-fashioned' movement. So not a complete sellout anyway. I find the minuet and trio to be quite enjoyable, although once again, they are not deemed to be 'serious' enough for the rather big-time outer movements. Possibly not, but I am not entirely convinced that this is an inability to deliver the necessary as much as it is an artistic decision to go a different way. If there were some sort of flaw in either of these movements I could be coerced into agreeing with the criticisms, but there isn't, so we are talking artistic differences, and looking through a curtain of 200 years of subsequent musical ideas, it can be hard to see purely on this topic. As for me, I'm going with Haydn's opinion. It's the only one that matters! The finale is a scintillating Presto which fully matches the restless and unrelenting energy of the opening movement. This is a work that falls between stylistic periods for Haydn, and it clearly shows him approaching the change with one foot firmly in the future and the other hanging back. A taste of things to come if there ever was one.

Next time we will look at what else Haydn was working on in this last year at Eisenstadt. It amazes one to see the breadth of his creativity.

Thanks for reading!

1765 – The music part 1 – Welcome back horns!

Hob	Key	NC	HRL	Instruments
30	C	36	35	Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings, Trumpets & Timpani (optional)
31	D	37	37	Flute, 2 Oboes, 4 Horns & Strings
39	g	38	40	2 Oboes, 4 Horns & Strings
29	E	39	36	2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings
Hob = Hoboken		NC = 'New Chronology'	HRL= Robbins-Landon

With all that was going on in 1765, Haydn still managed to gratify us with a few superb symphonies. With the hiring of two more hornists to replace the deceased former members of the band, we are once again able to revel in the sound of wild brass. Even one of the symphonies which only has two horn parts is in festive C Major, and thus merits a set of trumpets to go along with the horns. So we have a brass extravaganza!

Beginning the year with Hob 30, I recall that earlier I talked about 'church symphony' being a structure rather than a target for performance. Also, many symphonies which begin with a normative 'Sonata Allegro' could easily have been used in church. One can hardly transport back in time to verify this, but a small amount of deductive reasoning, based on the very common Gregorian chant 'Alleluia' theme of the opening movement and the fact that festive works including drums and trumpets were commonly used in church, leads one to the conclusion; this was very possibly a church symphony! Robbins-Landon speculates that it may have been written for Easter Sunday, 1765. This is very plausible, I think. The Alleluia is a very famous one throughout Austria, and was specifically designated for Holy Week, so hearing it at Easter Mass would have been familiar to the ear. The trumpet and timpani debate which has gone on for years continues in this work. It is a simple fact that Haydn doesn't write these parts right into the main body of the work, but has them on separate sheets that can be set aside when the instruments aren't available. But the earliest catalogs all show these trumpets and drums, and the symphony catalog kept by Haydn's friend Keeß until after London shows them also. The net result is that some recordings, such as Dorati, don't use them, while many others, such as Harnoncourt, use them to great effect. Of course, they don't appear in the central Andante, which features the solo flute for the first time in this work, much in the manner that Haydn used it in Symphony 24, almost like a miniature flute concerto with the oboes and strings providing the ritornello. The bustling finale, marked Tempo di Minuetto: più tosto Allegretto, is one of Haydn's early demonstrations of his complete mastery of wind instruments. The flute disappears at first, but suddenly returns mid-way, and is totally integrated into the fabric of the orchestra along with the other winds. It is no wonder this work was a favorite of the Prince, to the point where he had Haydn compose a Baryton Trio (#69) on the same themes.

Our next work, a great favorite of many (including Yours Truly), is Hob 31, called since the beginning 'Sinfonie mit dem Hornsignal' or 'The Hornsignal Symphony'. It is hard not to be stirred by the four horns in D, blowing a familiar hunting call en masse, and then guiding the strings through Haydn's evocative thematic excursion. He doesn't wait to use his solo flute this time either, giving it some nice solo turns (mainly trills rather than melodic sections) right through the development. It is interesting that we can nearly date the symphony by the instruments available. The year is written on the parts, but the four horns didn't come available until May, and as we saw in the last essay, our flutist, Sigl, was dismissed in mid-September, so this was clearly a summertime work. I find it interesting to do the math and see that four horns in a band of sixteen musicians makes a section of 25%! One can imagine (or be fortunate enough to attend a re-creation) what such a group sounded like in the very reverberant atmosphere of the (now called) Haydnsaal (Haydn Performance Hall) at Schloss Esterházy in Eisenstadt. The second movement requires two of the horns to change instruments so we now have two horns in D and two in G. This wonderful movement can slip by in the rush, but the virtuoso horn parts are matched by superb writing for Tomasini on first violin and Weigl on cello also. The shifting back and forth between pizzicato and arco bring out the fine expressive voices of these two players. Truly a movement to listen to with attention! The third movement minuet is one of Haydn's classics. It begins with a very danceable and recognizable minuet rhythm, changing to a trio dominated by a 'duet' between the oboes and horns. Piquant touches by the violins and the flute serve to dramatize the goings-on in the winds. The finale, a set of variations, Moderato molto, reminds one of the finale from two years earlier to Symphony 72. As in that work, the work in each variation is done by a different solo instrument. It was a brilliant idea the first time around, and no less so here. The difficulty of the horn parts in their variation (#4) are inestimable.

Next time we will look at the remaining two symphonies before plunging off into the first of many looks at Baryton Trios. If one can only listen to two Haydn symphonies in a given day, these two will serve very nicely on any day!

Thanks for reading!

1765 – Another era draws to a close

We have seen already that change was a commonplace item in the 18^th century. Haydn went from home, to boarding with his cousin, to singing in Vienna, to living on the street, and then to Fürnburg, Morzin and finally, to Eisenstadt. And he is only in his early thirties!

1766 was one of those years when things just seem to come together. But that confluence of events was not without its preludes. As we will see, most of the events which culminated in 1766 were well under way in this, the final year of Vice-Kapellmeister Haydn. The documents available from 1765 include many of small import (e.g. - viola strings @ 3kr. signed for by Haydn), some of greater import (hired two new horn players (hurrah!)), and some that had an effect on Haydn's entire work history.

Most of the items relayed here indicate that Haydn was a rather genial sort of fellow, he liked everyone, they liked him. And generally speaking, this is an accurate perception. Two occurrences of 1765 remind us that appearances can deceive. The Prince's right-hand man was an ex-Army officer named Rahier. He was quite a martinet, but by and large he got on well with Haydn, as well as their varied backgrounds and current stations permitted. He tended towards being rather a bully though, and a 1765 incident brought matters to a head. The band flutist, Frantz Sigl, was hunting (seriously? In his yard?) and when he discharged his weapon, the flash from the flint caught the roof of a house on fire, and in fact would have burned down the entire neighborhood except for the quick response of the brigade. Rahier was quick to act, firing Sigl on the spot. Whether the punishment was deserved or not is hard to determine, but clearly Haydn and the orchestra didn't think so, since they protested to Rahier, who flew into a rage and went to the Prince complaining that they were insubordinate. The reason I bring this up is that it resulted in the very first document in existence which is entirely in Haydn's own hand, not dictated and merely signed. Clearly he was seriously irritated, and in what could be construed as a bit of cheekiness he told the Prince that he needed to rein in Rahier since he was trying to exert authority that he didn't possess and that Haydn served only the Prince and not the Regent. I like this affair because it tells us that despite his outward, necessary courtly obeisance, a trait that the 19^th century abused him for, when it came down to it he spoke his mind for what he felt was right. Sigl was discharged at the time, but rehired in 1767, so no grudges were held apparently.

The Workplace Haydn would soon call home for the summer

 The second incident had a far greater effect, both on Haydn himself, and on his way of doing his business. We owe the existence of the Entwurf Katalog directly to it, for example, without which our knowledge of Haydn's earlier works would be so totally impoverished. But it all started out in a much more dire way. Lost in all the hubbub of Haydn's employment, and the subsequent death of Prince Paul and institution of Prince Nicholas, is the fate of the titular Head of Music, Gregor Werner. Although he was old, and had been shuffled off into the background, he was very much alive and nursing a rather bitter feeling for his replacement, as old men are wont to do from time to time. Late in October of the year he wrote a lengthy diatribe to the Prince. I don't reproduce it here in its entirety, but a few sentences will give the flavor:

"I am forced to draw attention to the local castle chapel, the unnecessarily large Princely expenses, and lazy idleness of the whole band, the principal responsibility for which must be laid at the door of the present Director, who lets them get away with everything, so as to receive the name of a good Heyden [sic]: for as God is my witness, things are much more disorderly than if the seven children were about…"

"Incidentally, it is humbly requested: Your Princely Highness should give him (Heyden) a severe order that he must issue the strictest command to the musicians that they appear in future, all of them without exception, at their duties. And since it is likely that he (Heyden) will try to lie his way out of it, the order must come from on high…"

Well, you see where this was going from just those bits. Even the misspelling of Haydn's name is no accident; it is a pun on the homophonic translation to 'heathen'. Among the other accusations of negligence, we find that nothing was taken care of, music was being sold or given away, instruments likewise. All in all, a damning set of accusations. And of course, there is a grain of truth at the heart of condemnations of this sort, it is likely that Haydn was amiable with the musicians, and also that they didn't always show up for work when they should. As it is also likely that music didn't get put away and hadn't been cataloged either. Nicholas set Rahier to investigating, and apparently nothing was found seriously wanting since even that worthy had just a short list of corrective actions, easily implemented. But it was the final item on the list, not by Rahier but by the Prince himself, which created a stir in Haydn, possibly redirecting his efforts, but certainly enriching our knowledge of those efforts. It went like this:

"Finally, said Kapellmeister Haydn is urgently enjoined to apply himself to composition more diligently than heretofore, and especially to write such pieces as can be played on the gamba (Baryton), of which pieces we have seen very few up to now…"

While the other items on the list were of little personal consequence to Haydn (they would be deputized, after all), this last one must have stung, with salt on top. As we have seen so far, there was no shortage of music being produced at Esterházy Castle. It was Haydn's actions in response to this rebuke which pays dividends to us even today. He enlisted his copyist, Elssler Sr., to take every manuscript of his own works which he still owned and to begin a catalog which had an incipit of the key parts for identification purposes. And from this point forward, he entered in his own hand an incipit for most of the works he composed. Even through his London trips. The value is inestimable! Without doubt, if the Prince made such an accusation again, he had a ready reply, in writing! Also, and more on point from the Prince's point of view, he began the series of trios for Baryton, Viola & Cello which, during the next 10 years, amounted to over 126. Enough to keep even the most prodigious player amused of an evening!

Next time we will look at the music of this year. You won't even know that anything else was going on when you settle down to listen!

Thanks for reading!

1764 – The Music part 4 – Doesn’t have to be a symphony

Hob. #	Genre	Key	Instruments
14:01	Divertimento	Eb	Cembalo , 2 Horns, Violin & Baßo
14:04	Divertimento	C	Cembalo, 2 Violins & Baßo (Cello or Violone)
16:Eb2	Sonata #17	Eb	Keyboard
16:Eb3	Sonata #18	Eb	Keyboard
17:deest/9:03	12 Minuets w/ Trios		Keyboard reductions
24a:03	Italian Cantata	C	Al Tuo arrivo felice 2 Sopranos, Alto, 2 Tenors, Bass, Chorus, Flute, 2 Oboes, Bassoon, 2 Horns, Harpsichord & Strings
24a:04	Italian Cantata	A	Qual dubbio ormai Soprano, Chorus, 2 Oboes, 2 Horns, Solo Harpsichord & Strings

As I continue down this road, using Hoboken as my guide, it occurs to me that this methodology, beginning always with symphonies, finally arriving at vocal works, and with many 'smaller' genres in between, tends to place far more significance on the symphonies (and the string quartets in third position) than Haydn himself may have done. Which reflects well our situation here in the early 21st century, when many music enthusiasts feel as though the compositional output of a composer consists in two parts; symphonies and 'everything else'. Haydn would have been totally baffled by this, since in his own time any sort of instrumental music was merely a bagatelle or diversion. Which goes a long way, in my opinion, towards resolving the minor mystery of why he called so very many of his instrumental works, across many genres, divertimenti. He viewed them as diversions or amusements. And the corollary oddity involving his brief autobiographical sketch of 1776 for a sort of Austrian Who's Who called Das gelehrte Oesterreich. This took the form of a rather long letter addressed to a Mrs. Leonore Lechner who had been enlisted to solicit him for it. We will, of course, discuss it in due time. But the point to note here is when he briefly lists the compositions he has to his credit at the time, every one of them is a vocal/choral work; his operas, oratorios and sacred works. This is no accident, it shows him, like everyone else at the time, viewing his instrumental works as insignificant trifles.

Why hit on this topic? Well, it is sometimes necessary to voice a short protest of the status quo, in this case over the undue emphasis placed on symphonies in his oeuvre, to the near total disregard of some amazingly great music which is left to languish. Is it possible then to hope the Italian Cantata will supplant the symphony in the public's esteem? OK, that is probably a bit over the top crazy! Nonetheless, there are two very fine examples in this year. Qual dubbio ormai (With Humility, My Friend) is one of these. It serves a twofold purpose as a cantata; it is the second consecutive Name Day honorific that Haydn composed, following last year's Destatevi, o miei fidi. It's second purpose, and perhaps the one responsible for the odd title choice, is to honor Nicholas for being named Captain of the Hungarian Guard, a key position within the Habsburg court structure. The virtuoso role for the soprano here, coupled with an equally (and surprisingly) difficult one for Haydn on the harpsichord, gives ample opportunity for the musicians to show their talents. Robbins-Landon has speculated that hearing Haydn play in this work is the spark that kindled Nicholas' sudden desire to hear more solo keyboard works.

On the topic of divertimentos, we see two works in this year, one certainly from 1764, the second placed there by me. There is a dated autograph for the 'piano quartet' Hob 14:04. Whatever the stimulus was for Haydn to compose this cheery work is unknown, but I, for one, am pleased that he finally came back to the genre which served him well in the Morzin years. We still haven't resolved the 'Baßo' question, and I still lean towards the violone, but whichever way it is played, it is pleasant entertainment. The second work in this group, 14:01, is also the only one which is orchestrated differently. It was certainly not unusual in 18th century Austria to see chamber music works include two horns. The most common configuration seems to have been what we would today call a string quartet plus two horns. At a future time you would see Mozart exploiting this combination, most famously in his A Musical Joke. Unlike the balance of the group, this work is a quintet. I have yet to run across another work by any composer with this particular combination of instruments, and also with the added feature of the cembalo being a featured instrument rather than merely a continuo. I would venture to say that Haydn invented a genre, but it is scarcely a laurel for him, since it appears to be monotypic. The dates given for its composition traditionally range from 1761 to 1765, and I have chosen this year rather arbitrarily because it plays well with its mate 14:04. You will see both of these works described as 'minor', that dreaded consignment to non-symphonic hell, but I not only enjoy listening to them, but find that they present an interesting snapshot of the wealthy family at home, just them and the band on a winter evening….

Finally, we wrap up the year with some solo keyboard works. Instantly, with those words, we hit the famous 'Wall of Controversy'. OK, that may be a little bit hyperbolic, I admit, but our two sonatas in E flat from this year have been bouncing around since the early 1960's, accepted, rejected, accepted, rejected etc.; and by the same authorities! Right now, they are in the 'accepted' phase, so let us enjoy them while we can since we all know it is the stamp of approval from the Powers That Be which makes works so much more enjoyable. In any case, it isn't not as though we are speaking of the first coming of the Waldstein Sonata here. These are two, nice, galant keyboard sonatas, nothing more. Well-constructed, melodic pleasing entertainment. Perfect representatives of what a keyboard sonata was supposed to be in 1764. Enjoy them for what they are, whether they are Haydnish enough for you can be determined at the time. The final work of the year is really 12 works, a standard set of Minuets & Trios, Hob 09:03. As with so much dance music from the entire century, even up through Beethoven, the original orchestrated parts, no matter how pleasing, disappeared shortly after their original premiere. The fortunate corollary to all of this is the habit of the Viennese to make a 'piano reduction' of the dances to allow them to be played at home in perpetuity. There are many minuets by Haydn of which we wouldn't even know the existence without these invaluable monuments to musica domestica. Once again, our man Hoboken has let us down in his numbering system. Solo piano works (other than sonatas) are supposed to be classified as Hob 17:xxx, but Hoboken allowed these to remain in Hob 09. I am just being nitpicky to point out this failing, but it has become one of my minor crusades to slap Hoboken around when needed, since he has apparently made some effort to irritate me. In any case, enjoy the music, it deserves your attention!

Next time, a look at 1765, a busy year, the last for Vice Kapellmeister Haydn!

Thanks for reading!

1764 – The music part 3 – Introducing the Baryton

Hob. #	Genre	Key	Instruments
10:11	Duet	D	2 Barytons
12:01	Duet	A	2 Barytons
12:02	Duet	G	2 Barytons (fragment)
12:03 & 05	Duet	D	2 Barytons
12:04	Duet	G	2 Barytons
12:06	Duet	G	2 Barytons (fragment)

One of the things that Haydn's reputation is built on, even today, is his huge oeuvre for the Baryton, one of those things that the 19^th century musical establishment considered Haydn's particular form of slavery to be based in. After all, who would write approximately 175 works for an instrument that no one could possibly love, especially since it was ungrateful to even virtuosi? And there is no denying that it takes an unusual taste (by modern standards) to appreciate the beauties offered in works for this instrument. The odds are very good that if you have heard any baryton works at all, it will be a few of the more famous trios, like #97, the extraordinary seven movement tour de force which appears on virtually every disk of the trios, no matter what it is coupled with. Such is fame.

Of course, like all of Haydn's other aspects, the origins of this one too is shrouded by lack of documentation. In addition to the more famous trios, he also composed several solo sonatas (possibly with cello playing continuo), duets for baryton & cello, duets for two barytons, a quintet for baryton, horns, viola & bass and a series of Octet/Divertimentos. The challenge for the listener, then, is to try and bring some sort of order into this rather large pile of manuscripts. Are natural groupings really natural, for example? I have chosen the six (mostly) extant duets for two barytons for this year, but I did it on the basis of inference from some of the things that Haydn was known to have done. Probably wrong, but it makes me happy this way.

These works have been recorded but once, unless someone sneaked one in recently without fanfare. Unlikely. The 21 disk box set Haydn: The Complete Works for Baryton, performed by the Esterházy Ensemble on Brilliant Records, has the lot of them. It should be noted that even if you have the Haydn Big Box from that label, you won't have these particular works since at the time of the release of the Big Box the actual set wasn't completed yet. As much as I admire Brilliant for sponsoring this great project, the omission of one disk from the lot leaves a bit of a bitter taste. So it goes. It goes without saying that for a Haydn Completist this box is a must-have. The music and performances justify the expense, in my opinion.

It is tempting to speculate on Haydn's reasons for composing duets for two barytons. Even if my speculative placing of them in this year is not based on hard documentation, the basic question of 'why?' doesn't go away no matter 'when'. The first thing I thought of, given Haydn's past practice and the fact that the Prince was essentially a novice in training, is that these were etudes, so to speak. Training aids must have been thin on the ground at the time, and what more practical way for someone to learn than to mimic the teacher. The only objection I can place against this is that much of the time, the 'secondo' part is nearly as challenging as the 'primo'. Not exactly what one would expect, but not right out, either. The Prince had many professional musicians in his employ, and at least two of them were very capable barytonists (Haydn wasn't at this point though). What better than to have his composer put together some challenging practice material? For my own satisfaction, that is the story that I have come up with to explain the available data, and I'm sticking with it until forced to evacuate the position!

To look at the works in general, we see right off that our friend Hoboken has continued his mysterious ways, placing our first duet in his section X, reserved for miscellaneous Baryton works and mostly occupied by the very late Octet/Divertimentos. Why it didn't land in section XII, actually called 'Baryton Duos' is one of those mysteries of life which Hoboken was always pleased to present us with. Of the remaining five works, 12:2 & 12:6 are but short fragments, usually counted as lost, but actually represented by a few measures. It is not known whether # 3 & 5 actually began life as a complete work, were split up, and then eventually brought back together, but this is their fate today. The finale of this work shares themes with the trio of Symphony #28. This leaves #1 & 4, and the fugitive over in section X as the only full length original works remaining.

The music itself does not remind one of the trios. It lacks the texture that Haydn could apply to three instruments. It is not virtuoso quality, nor is it anything remotely resembling basic scales and practice works. Rather, it actually is a showcase for moderately skilled technique by two barytonists. You can probably hear the ins and outs of the instrument's capabilities better here than anywhere else I've found. The smooth, beautiful tone of a bowed gamba, the plucking of the lyre/harp, and finally, the drone of the sympathetic strings in harmony. Altogether these works are ideal for quiet interludes such as in a chamber recital. Just like all the other music of this period, these are not for everyone. As is usually the case, though, it isn't a failing of the music, merely a temporary incompatibility between music and listener.

Thanks for reading!

1764 – The Music part 2 - And then there are these

Symphonies	Key	Hob.	N.C.	H.R-L.	Instruments
	Eb	22	33	32	2 English Horns, 2 Horns & Strings
	A	21	34	31	2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings
	G	23	32	33	2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings
	D	24	35	34	Flute (only in the Adagio & the Trio) 2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings

Not to give the impression here that Haydn was hung up on writing Church Symphonies; that's just me. He was busy writing all sorts of other music too. Like these two works which are more typical of the work he was doing at the time, which was raising the symphony out of the muck in which it was born.

Symphony #23 shares a Haydn legacy that would continue throughout his years as a symphony composer; his works in the key of G Major, for reasons inexplicable to me, anyway, are always among his most interesting. By way of example I offer #88, 92, 94 & 100 among the late symphonies, and among the earlier ones, this one, along with #47, 54 & 81. If you listen to a sampling of these (or already are very familiar with them) you will recognize some of his very finest symphonic works in this list. This one opens with a tremendously energetic Allegro which scarcely even pauses for breath in its forward rush. There are lots of dynamic fortes, and contrapuntal devices such as echoes and canonic sections to keep the ear busy. The Andante second movement, for strings only, is bound to be slightly anticlimactic after that opening, but it seems necessary to get things settled down again. To some extent, the 'normal' symphony suffers a bit from the same issue as the sinfonia da Chiesa in that there hadn't yet been devised a graceful means to shift the focus from the beginning to the end. One can hardly and reasonably say 'well, you could do it by not making the opening Sonata Allegro so good', could one? So it was a problem still to be worked out, although Haydn might not have viewed it that way, or even as a goal. It might have been something he eventually did because he felt artistically inclined that way, and it is only in modern times that we view it as a solution to a problem. As with many other of the list of G Major works above, the interesting effects derive from the minuet. This is a canon between the high voices and the low ones. The oboes and violins lead the way, and one measure behind the basses play the same parts, with the horns filling in the needed harmonies. The result was quite influential on Haydn's contemporaries, and still makes interesting listening for us, 240 years later!

Symphony #24 is also rather unique in some ways. The opening Allegro is so frenzied that it can almost be viewed as a mannerist experiment, one which Haydn didn't repeat. Robbins-Landon calls it 'controlled lunacy', and a review in London in the early 1780's, when it was first published there, calls Haydn's symphonic style as being 'full of phrenzy and fire…', quite probably based on this movement alone! Although to be sure, many of Haydn's non-da Chiesa symphonies of the 1760's had their share of 'phrenzy and fire' too! Moving on to the Adagio, we find what seems to be a flute concerto as one of the oboists has done a swap of instruments. Haydn doesn't start it with a ritornello like a concerto would do, but rather, with the solo flute. It is accompanied only by strings and a place is even left for a little cadenza should the soloist choose it. It is the sort of flute writing that makes one truly long for the missing/lost flute concerto of that period. The minuet has a very Austrian feel to it, it is based on Ländler (country dance) rhythms rather than the typical minuet one would expect. The trio brings the flute back, this time in a true trio with the two horns, also in Ländler style. The flutist must have loved this opportunity to show off! The finale is also quite interesting in that it is an early experiment in cyclic form. Haydn uses some motives from the first movement to close the work out. This was in no a standard procedure yet, as it would become in years to come. I'm not even sure if it was a first for Haydn, although I haven't necessarily heard it before. In any case, the shifting of some of that same frenetic energy from the beginning to the end does help to balance this work out just a bit. Since I am not a German critic of 176x, frenetic energy and non-courtly minuets make me very happy rather than shocked. Hope they will for you, too.

Next time, a look at the non-symphonic works of 1764. There are some gems there, too!

Thanks for reading!

1764 – The Music part 1 – Two extremes of the Church Symphony

Symphonies	Key	Hob.	N.C.	H.R-L.
	G	23	32	33
	Eb	22	33	32
	A	21	34	31
	D	24	35	34

Here is a bit of an oddity for you. It happens sometimes! All four symphonies from this year exist as dated autographs! Seriously, this may be a one-of-a-kind sort of a year. Nonetheless, our three authorities have worked out a method of using most of the possible orderings for the four which helps to make it a more normal situation for us anyway; wouldn't want it to be a walkover would we?

As I mentioned in the essay above, two of Haydn's precious hornists died in some unnamed way in 1764, so the result is no four-horn works this year. Pity for all concerned, themselves not least. Not one to let calamity spoil the situation, Haydn turned out some superb symphonies in this year.

To proceed by Hoboken number allows us to note the fact that No's. 21 in A and 22 in Eb are both sinfonias da chiesa. The opening Adagio of #21 presents us with some sure signs of Haydn's growth within his developing style. The whole movement has no double bars (so, no repeats), it is a fully developed single theme of the type which would be Haydn's hallmark throughout his career. It is almost like a capriccio or a fantasia in that without repeats it is difficult to pinpoint structural signposts. It is also one of the first times where he uses the winds as full partners to the strings in presenting the musical material as opposed to merely accompanying as in a divertimento. The remaining three movements provide an easy descent from what is essentially the peak of emotion in this work, the Adagio. This is a trap for the composer that not even Haydn could avoid, and probably the reason why, after his greatest masterpiece in the form, #49 in f, he abandoned it altogether. All along he had been trying to shift the emphasis of the symphony away from the traditional Italian overture form and Austrian Chamber Symphony type, both of which more or less placed all of the musical interest in the opening movement. In this work, he tried to rescue the situation somewhat by making the finale an Allegro molto which would have nearly served as a regular sonata form opening movement for some composers. Since the opening of this work is not in sonata form, this works very well and makes a nicely rounded work for our enjoyment.

We have taken a brief look at #22 (The Philosopher) already in the context of its being a church symphony, and how it could very well have been used as such in 1768. As a concert symphony, with its minuet restored, it is also a fine piece of work, possibly the earliest symphony that one hears played regularly today, excepting only the "Times of Day" works. The reason, of course, is the totally unique opening Adagio, which features the wonderful interplay between the horns on the one hand and the Cors Anglais on the other, one presenting the first phrase of a chorale, the others supplying a reply. Quite the opposite of the previous work, this Adagio is very much in a formal structure with a double bar right in the middle. The chorale theme is brought back in several keys and instrumentations, in ways which uniquely combine stile antico with sonata form such as it existed at that time. No doubt that once again the opening movement is the high point of the work. The second movement Presto does feature some nice solo playing by the English horns, and the minuet is largely a Feldparthie wind divertimento. The finale, though, is an outstanding hunting type such as we see in others of Haydn's symphonies. The French and English horns lead the charge, one calling, the other answering, with a great deal of excitement attached. Since the hunt was one of the favorite pastimes of the probable audience for this and similar symphonies this sort of ending must have been a popular favorite.

Next time we will look at the symphonies #23 & 24. Neither is a sinfonia da chiesa, and both present several features of the 'new' Haydn, full of energy and rhythm. I hope you will have a listen to all of these works. They will repay your investment many times over.

Thanks for reading!

1764 part 2 – What’s a Baryton anyway?

There are times when a mere definition fails to capture the essence of what something is. The baryton is like that. To say that it is a 'bowed string instrument with frets on the front of, and sympathetic strings behind, the neck' is in no way to define this extraordinary instrument. The fact that very few original specimens and even fewer replicas exist today, coupled with the extraordinary difficulty of playing it well, makes knowing it even more unlikely.

Viola da gamba

Before violins, violas and cellos existed there were viols. They were a family of stringed instruments, chiefly of the 16th and 17th centuries, having a fretted fingerboard, usually six strings, and a flat back and played with a curved bow. They came in all the expected sizes and a few unexpected ones too. But the one of primary interest to us was the Viola da Gamba, which was the bass member of the family. The baryton was, if not a descendant actually, then a bastard stepbrother. The outstanding feature that makes it unique is the parallel neck added alongside the fingerboard, underneath which dwell a variable number of strings which are not visible from the front. The back of the neck is open, and these strings live inside. As harmonic things tend to do, when something in their frequency sounds, these strings audibly vibrate (sympathetic vibration) and produce a droning sound on pitch. This was not a construction feature unique to the baryton; before it came along (and for a short while after it disappeared) there was an instrument called the viola d'amore which also had sympathetic strings. Those were arranged in an even more bizarre manner, running along the underside of the fingerboard while the bowed strings ran on top. But the principle of sympathetic vibration was the same. No doubt there are many other examples to be unearthed.

View behind the neck of the Esterházy baryton

The other instrument in the pedigree of the baryton is the lyre. The strings behind the neck were also intended to be plucked by players of sufficient dexterity. And indeed, they are quite harp-like in sound. My first impression was of a guitar being played close to the bridge. One can readily imagine the difficulty of playing this instrument! It is no surprise that it was dying out even by the time that Haydn began composing for it. Its heyday was in the 17^th century when it was played by professionals. The drone strings on those instruments were said to sometimes be as many as forty-four! There were technological improvements made in the instrument as the mid-18^th century arrived, but it was still no easily tamed beast. This fact, coupled with the additional reality that the interest of Prince Esterházy was the driving force in keeping it alive, shaped the music to conform with his capabilities. This is the reason why left thumb plucking is minimized in the works by Haydn and his coterie of baryton composers.

Haydn's own baryton

As we continue our trek from year to year, for the next 14 years we will continue to encounter, sometimes overwhelmingly, works which Haydn composed for this unique instrument. It would be a shame to dismiss them as dull or uninteresting, because they aren't. No one knows exactly what Haydn thought about having to write in this medium, probably he just considered it part of his job and carried on. He did, however, invest his art and ingenuity in them as he did with everything else. For example, he used seemingly worked out fugal effects which would eventually be put to a more popular use as the fugal finales of Op. 20. In addition, several of the themes which first appeared in the trios eventually saw reuse in other works in far flung genres. Finally, many of the works were transcribed for different instruments (frequently for String Trio), probably not by Haydn, but they eventually were published under his name and helped to create an even greater appetite for his work. So the tools in the workshop were expanded and honed. For a true artist, no effort goes wanting.

As we proceed, I will make an effort to point out some works which have particular points of interest. One cannot descriptively review 126 trios and another 25 or so other extant works within the context of a blog, but I can and do encourage you to take advantage of a few of the disks which are available to give a good flavor of the music. I think you will find the experience worth your while. Next time we will begin to look at the music of 1764.

Thanks for reading!

1764 part 1 - Driven by music

One can hardly find a known aspect of Haydn's life at this time which wasn't driven by music. It is what you would expect from a professional musician, even today, except for the variety of it all, which is stunning in its way. In the two year period from 1763 we see nearly a dozen symphonies, several sorts of chamber music, church music, an opera, three large cantatas and several concertos (pity that they didn't all survive). This year we will add the first works for Baryton, of which there will be many. And even the return of the keyboard sonata. One is hard pressed to find a matching period from any other composer, although perhaps G.P. Telemann could relate. In any case, the resulting bonanza for the music lover is unmatched.

The year began with the Prince making an out of town appearance in Frankfurt-on-Main attending the coronation of Joseph II as the new King of the Holy Roman Empire. According to the diary of young Goethe, Nicholas was the hit of the affair for both his finery and throwing a party. Nicholas may have been just a nice guy, but he certainly had his vanity which needed stroking from time to time. We will see in later times that Haydn got concessions from Nicholas by mentioning that it would add to the Prince's prestige by having his famous Kapellmeister appear at this or that occasion. It seems Haydn had the measure of his man there, for he often got his way. Meanwhile, Haydn took advantage of the Prince's absence by going to Rohrau to take care of the business involved with his father's death the previous September. He returned to Eisenstadt in time to compose a 'welcome home' cantata for the Prince, Al Tuo arrivo, felice (Happiness at your return) (Hob 24a:3).

Despite the nearly complete lack of documentary evidence to tell us what Haydn's life was like in those early years, we can infer there was no lack of anything in the way of corporal luxuries. Rumor has it that the Missus was a spendthrift, and of all the peccadilloes which might slip past Haydn's easygoing nature, that was certainly not one of them. It can have been nothing but a source of friction between them, and possibly the basis for the long-term dysfunction of their marriage. On the other hand, the Prince was a big help by bestowing various kindnesses, such as absorbing the medical costs when Haydn became quite ill late in the year. The document begins "Not to establish a precedent…" so he covered his bases, but he also took care of one of his more precious assets.

Two things which happened in this year seem to have provided the impetus for much more exploration of new avenues down the road. Both musical, of course. When we get to discussing the music for the year, you will see, for the first time, works for the Baryton. Not the trios many of us are familiar with already, but duos for two barytons. Which harks back to the observation I made in 1763 that the presence of Carl Frantz the hornist/barytonist/violinist in the orchestra might have been the spur to push Nicholas into an interest he had for playing the instrument. The fact the first works were duos for two of the instruments is even more compelling in leading to this conclusion. Four extant works will be explored this year. I found them quite interesting and probably a better platform to let you hear what these works sound like than the trios will be.

The second thing which I found interesting is the Prince's newly blooming interest in Haydn's abilities on the cembalo (harpsichord). Up until now, it has been the forgotten instrument in his repertoire. But the cantata which Haydn wrote for the Prince's nameday, Qual dubbio ormai (With humility, my friend) (Hob 24a:4), has a very large da capo aria second movement, and it contains a virtuosic cembalo solo winding through the vocal part. To give an indication of how unused the cembalo had become, a repairman had to be summoned from Vienna to re-quill and restring it for the event. But the point here is from this point onwards Haydn was frequently called upon to compose and perform on the instrument.

It can hardly be said that Princely disinterest was the only thing keeping Haydn away from the cembalo. As we have seen, Carl Frantz was also a violinist, but he was able to keep playing his horn with regularity because the force of fiddlers was steadily being built up to the point where players of other instruments weren't required to spend all of their time in the fiddle section. This applied to Haydn every bit as much as to Frantz and others. It is a nice thing, in my opinion, that Haydn finally got back to writing keyboard works. Despite the fact of his being abused over the centuries because he wasn't a keyboard specialist. His works may not fall so easily under the fingers, but they fall wonderfully on the ears. Finally though, even while the orchestra was being built up in one area, it was losing in others. The bloom of four hornists which so inspired Haydn in 1763 came to a sudden end in 1764 when two of the hornists died. I have no documentation at all for what happened to them, but it would be the following year before we would be able to delight once again in the likes of the 'Symphony with the Horn Signal' and others of its kind.

Next time we will take a look at the Baryton, a most unusual instrument indeed, and source of some of Haydn's more interesting but virtually unknown repertoire.

Thanks for reading!