1786 – The Music part 1 - Paris can't get enough, it seems!

Hob I:	Key	NC	HRL	Name	Instruments
84	Eb	87	87		Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns & Strings
86	D	88	88		Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani & Strings
82	C	89	89	L'ours (The Bear)	Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns (and/or 2 Trumpets) & Strings
(Hoboken catalog N°s.)		(New Chronology / Gerlach N°s.)	(Robbins-Landon N°s.)

Marie Antoinette & Her Children in 1787 by Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun

As we saw last year, when we were looking at the first half of the 'Paris' symphonies, I presented some numbers which showed the overwhelming growth in popularity of Haydn's music during the previous five years. How to explain such a surge? Certainly Haydn was not the only game in town. And he was not even a native, which is amazing given the proclivity of the French towards favoring their own. Why this sudden turn to the exotic?

There are undoubtedly more factors at play here than I can begin to touch upon. How does one fully explicate a cultural trend from 230 years ago? Here are a few ideas I have, merely scratching the surface of the issue though.

As we saw in our discussion of the salon, France and Austria had been at odds for over a century. The reasons are even deeper than anything to do with Haydn, though, so we will leave it for now, but safe to say, there was little direct cultural intermingling until the 1760's, when as a result of the Treaty of Versailles in 1756, France and Austria were suddenly allies against England and Prussia in the Seven Years' War. Once all this was happily resolved, France and Austria literally fell into bed together; well, as near as dammit, since Maria Theresia gave her daughter Marie Antoinette to Louis XVI to be Queen of France. The Frenchification of central Europe from this point on is much discussed, but the salient point for us now is this; there was also a smaller, but still pervasive reverse process by which France broadened its own Eastern horizons a bit too. Musically, the first entrants into the arena were the Mannheimers, whose musical style and instrumental prowess was already famous throughout Europe.

By our current year, everything the Parisian publishers could possibly hang on Haydn was being published with great abandon. Haydn did indeed speak in a language, as he would later tell Mozart, which was understood by all. John Rice, a pioneering musicologist, has tracked down the journey of Symphony #45 (Farewell, Abschieds-Symphonie, Les Adieux Symphonie) from Vienna to Moscow by 1788, and turned up a trail through the heart of 1786 Paris. Reading the letters and newspaper articles which accompany the story gives one a clearer picture of something which I have mentioned in these essays, and still struggle with today; the French were as one with the Austrians in the way they listened and heard the music, in a way which is beyond our grasp today.

Hivart's (a cellist in the Concert Spirituel) strongest endorsement of Haydn's music came in a crate weighing 180 pounds that he shipped through Le Havre (to Moscow) on 12 September 1786, and in a letter mailed in Paris five days later. The crate contained (among other items) architectural plans, a watch and chain, scores of Grétry's Richard Coeur-de-Lion and Dalayrac's Nina, an annotated libretto of Salieri's Les Danaïdes, and two modèles en démolition—working models of architectural sets for Richard... and Les Danaïdes that collapsed during the course of those operas. It also contained instrumental music: symphonies, quartets and duos. The twelve symphonies were all by Haydn. Hivart may have felt that the predominance of Haydn's symphonies in his choice of instrumental music needed some justification. His letter of 17 September 1786 contains one of his rare comments on instrumental music—and by far the longest: I have the honor to send you the twelve most beautiful symphonies for full orchestra that I could find. Among the others by Haydn, there is one, No. 16 (Siebert's number), that is the most amusing thing that can be imaged. The last movement of this symphony begins normally with the whole orchestra, but it does not end the same way, for one sees all the musicians leave one after another, until the first violin finds himself all alone to finish the symphony. The audience is astonished to see just one person in the orchestra. This joke made the audience laugh heartily when we played it at the Concert Spirituel. Here is the origin of this symphony, for Monsieur Le Comte really needs to know it:

Haydn was music director of Prince Stérazie [sic – (Esterházy)], and one day this prince told him that he had become tired of music and that consequently he wanted to dismiss all the musicians, keeping only Haydn. Thus the prince charged him with announcing to his colleagues the sad news. As a man of genius, Haydn wanted to do this with a dramatic act. So he conceived of this symphony, to be performed at the orchestra's last concert, as the means by which the musicians would be dismissed. The prince, surprised to see all the musicians leave until only the first violin remained at the end of the symphony, asked what it meant. Haydn responded: "Did you not order me to dismiss all the players? Well, they obeyed your orders." This symphonic joke pleased the prince so much that he kept his orchestra.

Variations of this same story were published in the Mercure de France in 1784, when the symphony was originally performed. Being a cellist who had already vacated the stage by then, Hivart may not have known it was actually 2 violins left at the end.

Other than the interesting fact of how soon the symphony traveled, and how twisted its story line got along the way, the interesting part of this tale is bolded in the first paragraph; the audience in Paris 'got' that this was all a joke on Haydn's part, just like the Prince will have done, and everyone else who was contemporary with the work itself. This is something we tend to miss out on today, thanks to the disruption of the traditional way of hearing music in the 18^th century.

So let's have a look at the three symphonies of this year.

#4 Hob. I:84 in Eb

I	Largo – Allegro	Eb	3/4 – 2/2
II	Andante	Bb	6/8
III	Menuet: Allegro - Trio	Eb	3/4
IV	Finale: Vivace	Eb	2/4

Instrumentation - 1 Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns (Eb & Bb alto), 1^st & 2^nd Violins, Violas, Cellos & Basses

Haydn leads off this second half of the set with another work, which, like its leadoff partner from the previous year, #87, is for some reason less known or admired than its companions, although why this should be is a mystery to me, like so many things Haydn. I suppose it didn't get a name, and the rest was history.

The opening Largo, though, is very memorable, with its ethereal sounding strings, and solid, dominant bass lines. It is almost difficult to see how this didn't get a name, given some of the imaginative stretches it takes to justify some of them! Haydn brings the Largo to an end by making a massive sound in the strings, having them use triple stops (play three notes at once) in order to play every tone needed in that key many times over. This makes the listener believe there will be a big, majestic Allegro theme coming, which of course, is quite the opposite of what happens. Instead, we are hit with a nice, light, old-fashioned galant theme. He doesn't keep us there long though, since he then has the second part of the theme exposing the more intense part of the Largo introduction, and finishes out the entire movement by playing these two parts off from each other, exchanging their functions, changing keys, approaching them through various stepwise methods; in short, providing a good time for connoisseurs and dilettantes equally.

Now, we see another bit of cyclic form being employed. The beginning of the second movement, Andante, sounds a very lot like the theme of the introduction of the first movement. The movement itself is a set of variations, first in minor, then in major, then with winds, then with strings alone; all using the same material, though in very differing ways, up to a tutti (my favorite!) and, amazingly, a cadenza as you would expect to hear in a concerto grosso. From that point, the momentum reverses back until it is again just a delicate little theme.

The minuet is pretty much standard, but in that Haydnish way, the Trio throws things off by changing rhythms around, and adding odd bar lengths to the phrases. This begins with the solo bassoon, and ends with the chirping flute in the second half. It takes getting back to the minuet to reestablish the solid 3/4 beat.

The finale was born to be popular. It is full of energy, in a way which characterizes Haydn's work at this point in his career very succinctly. It is not hard to hear the many steps which have taken place on the road to his maturity either, since the evolution of this style has been a long time in the making. Even the sudden deceleration, a quiet gap filled only by a solo bassoon and flute leading back to the full orchestra taking off to a satisfying ending seems like the culmination of a style.

There is little reason to ignore this symphony; give it a name to help you remember it. It will pay you a dividend for doing so!

Sinfonia in D - di me giuseppi Haydn '786

#5 Hob. I:86 in D

I	Adagio – Allegro spiritoso	D	3/4 – 4/4
II	Capriccio: Largo	G	3/4
III	Menuet: Allegretto - Trio	D	3/4
IV	Finale: Allegro con spirito	D	4/4

Instrumentation: 1 Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns (in D & G), 2 Trumpets (in D), Timpani, 1^st & 2^nd Violins, Violas, Cellos & Basses

We saw, last year, #85 (La Reine de France), being called the greatest of these six works, and this is based on factors which include popularity as well as musicality. But if you read musical texts, the current work, #86, seems destined to wear the crown. Certainly, the trumpets and drums add a magisterial potential which can't be matched by The Queen. Perhaps this is The King!?

The Adagio introduction is rather extended, with a touch of ceremoniousness underlain with, to me, an equal touch of humor, as though the observer to the procession is not quite impressed. The Allegro spiritoso is on top of us before we even know it, there is no halt, just a sudden realization of being there. Landon's descriptor is 'suave', that works for me. The Allegro itself consists in extended treatment of a little four measure phrase, part of the introduction, which is taken through the spectrum of harmonic possibilities. This is all held together with a dotted rhythmic fragment which shows up regularly and gives both continuity and coherence to the working out of the four bar fragment. The little excursions into minor keys, and the sudden slow-downs with very thin orchestration which highlight the winds, are high spots for me.

We've only seen a Capriccio in one Haydn symphony before, #53 vers. A, in two keyboard works and a string quartet (Op 20 #2), and in the opening movement of a keyboard trio (Hob 15:35) way back in 1757. This is enough of a history to be able to make some generalizations about what Haydn's idea of a Capriccio was. Generally, it involves more freedom of form, and is constructed rather like a rondo, in the manner of C.P.E. Bach. Once again Haydn goes to the introduction for his thematic material, this time coming up with a section of the bass line, and then building his various excursions around it. The interesting aspect is each of the major sections of the movement is built of various pieces, but the pieces occur in a different sort order each time, so you can't predict what will show up this time. The overall effect when listened to is much more positively ordered than one gets when either reading about it or reading the score, both of which leave me baffled! If it needed one, this movement would have been a prime candidate for inclusion in the 'Surprise Symphony'.

This is a minuet to reckon with, grand, on the beat, no messing around; it is majestic, classic music, with a melodic trio without special effects, but with a distinctly waltz-like feel to it. It was a hit, I suspect, in pre-Revolutionary Paris.

The finale is back to the fantasia style of the first two movements. Haydn seems bent on demonstrating how many ways he can end a sentence which begins with the same phrase. The phrase is a little five-note word of dotted eighths, which he uses at least eight times to begin the motif, but which he finishes the motif, it is every time different. The three movements in this work which deviate from the norm, which is to say, all but the minuet, bring together a striking idea of how to unify a work into a cycle in other ways than by quoting itself. Well worth your time to get to know.

#6 Hob. I:82 in C

I	Vivace assai	C	3/4
II	Allegretto	F	2/4
III	Menuet - Trio	C	3/4
IV	Finale: Vivace	C	2/4

Instrumentation: 1 Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns (in C alto & F), 2 Trumpets (in C) (doubling the horns in I, III & IV), Timpani, 1^st & 2^nd Violins, Violas, Cellos & Basses

As we have seen already, Haydn had a special affinity for the Viennese 'Festive C major' works which characterized the 18^th century. Here is one he wrote for the Parisians. No dancing bears, please. That particular conceit didn't appear until a publication of 1829, fully twenty years after Haydn's death, and presumably courtesy of a publisher discovering opium for the first time. Grrr….

As we saw last year with Symphony #87, this work without a slow introduction uses the Parisian favorite, the premier coup d'archet, a boldly upward arpeggio for full orchestra in unison. This is followed by the brassy figures, almost a fanfare really, that characterize the mood of the rest of the movement. There is a second theme, more delicate and lyrical, which provides contrast for the vigorous, military sort of fanfares and tuttis which are never far away. This is overall a very powerful movement with much forward drive and contrast in the material from the delicacy of the violins in the second theme to the power of the horns and trumpets with the timpani in the frequent restatement of the main theme.

The 2^nd movement, Allegretto, begins with the main theme, a jaunty tune in F major that is followed by a similar jaunty tune in f minor. These two related themes in major and minor alternate for the rest of the movement, a classic set of Haydn double variations. The variations which use the full orchestra are powerfully arranged, and show strong contrast when interspersed with the almost chamber music-like alternations. The ending comes with full orchestra playing a maestoso version of the major theme, with still a small whisper of the alternate group coming in to finish it all off.

The third movement minuet is grand and vigorous, dancelike rather than militant. Here Haydn returns to big tuttis inspired by the forces at his disposal. What's the point in having a big band to drive and not putting your foot down on the gas? Everything about this Menuet, including the spelling, is French; beat and note perfect. The Trio is brilliant, and despite sounding easily tossed off, there still exist several drafts in full score of it to show just how much work Haydn put into getting it right. As Landon rightly points out in his analysis, even though we know in retrospect what was coming to Paris beginning in 1789, in 1786 when Haydn wrote this work, it was still the Golden Age, and this minuet and trio exemplify this very well indeed.

The finale begins with a startling low blat in the bass that introduces the bagpipe-like drones that will underlie the whole movement. On top of this is the folk-like tune which reminded a later publisher of dancing bears. But folksiness is more what Haydn had in mind. Though Haydn doesn't stray too far from this main theme, there is plenty of variety to be had in the instrumentation. He gradually develops and intensifies his bagpipe drones until they climax fortissimo, with timpani pounding, with the whole band bringing it to a rousing close.

And that also brings our look at the 'Paris' Symphonies to a close. I hope it gave you an urge to have a listen for yourself. They probably did more than any other works in Haydn's oeuvre to make his name the greatest in the world of music in the late 18^th century!

Thanks for reading!