Hob I: |
Key |
NC |
HRL |
Name |
Instruments |
92 |
G |
94 |
94 |
Oxford |
Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, (2 Trumpets), Timpani & Strings |
(Hoboken catalog N°s.) |
(New Chronology / Gerlach N°s.) |
(Robbins-Landon N°s.) |
Do you sometimes wonder, as I do, what is the value of a name when it comes to symphonic success? I hope you read the essay from last year, about the symphonies N°s. 90 and 91. They are the mates to this one in a final trilogy for Paris completed in this, the year of the fall of L'Ancien Régime, for whose pleasure they were made.
As we saw, the actual commission itself is missing. One can only imagine the Count d'Ogny was delighted with the success of the previous set of six, since they became all the rage at the Concerts Spirituel. In fact, as you see in this chart, Haydn's symphonies comprised thirty-seven out of the of the forty-one symphonies (over 90%!) played in 1788, the year of the commission!
The wild card in all of this lives far from Paris though. As you recall, last year we saw a pair of letters which were sent by Haydn to Ferdinand Müller von Müllegg, the Vienna representative of Prince Kraft Ernst Oettingen-Wallerstein. Oettingen was a Bavarian aristocrat, with nearly the power of Miklos Esterházy. He was actually a long-time customer of Haydn, as we saw earlier, he received one of the subscription letters for the Opus 33 quartets. He loved those works, but sent a complaint letter about how long it took to get them, which is germane here. Among other musical luminaries at his court, his first Kapellmeister was Joseph Reicha, uncle of Antonin Reicha, and he was followed by Antonio Rosetti, one of the foremost composers of the era (who wasn't named Haydn or Mozart!). His still existing musical archives show Haydn to be the most represented composer who was not in his employ. And while we won't go into the future beyond this short note; he was a subscriber to the original score of The Creation. In short, he was a fan, a wealthy fan, and Haydn knew he would do well to make him happy.
Despite completing two of the symphonies last year, this year's work still took until October to finish, and now it is past time to deliver the autograph manuscript to its new owner. The crux of the trouble with this great plan we have been watching unfold for the last two years now raises its head. Haydn has sent off the autograph scores to Count d'Ogny in Paris. What he has remaining are the parts. Oettingen believes he is buying something written just for him, and he would like to have the autograph scores for himself, he is, after all, paying a goodly sum of money for all this. What to do?
Haydn's reputation is based on his bold originality. What if he applied the same unique thought process he used on a composition puzzle to solving this dilemma? Hmm, let's see;
[To FERDINAND MÜLLER VON MÜLLEGG, VIENNA. in German]
Nobly born, Most highly respected Herr von Müller!
According to our arrangement, I should have sent scores of the Symphonies and not copies of the parts. But because I suffered almost all Summer from the most terrible pains in my eyes, I was unfortunately quite incapable of writing a clean score, and thus was forced to have these 3 illegible Symphonies (of which the enclosed, the best of the three, can serve as a sample) copied in my room by one of my composition pupils, and then to have the parts made by several copyists (so that the works would not be stolen). Any connoisseur can judge from the enclosed illegible score what the others are like; this time it is not my fault, for since my youth I have been accustomed to write very neat scores. If, however, there are any wrong notes in the Symphonies I sent, I would ask the Konzertmeister there to inform me of them at once in a letter, so that I can send him the exact corrections. Therefore I would ask His Serene Highness the Prince humbly to excuse me: but if His Highness nevertheless insists on the scores, I shall of course dutifully deliver them (but it will be very hard for me, because I am still not free of the pains in my eyes).
The most gracious Prince's approbation of these 3 Symphonies is a source of great encouragement to me, and will remain so to the last days of my life. I would like to have a portrait of His Highness, but only a silhouette, for I am a great collector of leading personalities.
My dear Herr Müller (our long-standing acquaintance makes me bold enough to suggest this form of address), you will be kind enough to excuse me to the gracious Prince, on account of the true reasons given above.
I remain, noble Sir, with every esteem,
Your most obedient servant,
Joseph Haydn.
Esterhaz, 29th November 1789.
NB - I did not receive your letter till yesterday, because it was addressed to Eisenstadt instead of to Esterhaz.
(all letters from H.C. Robbins-Landon Collected Correspondence & London Notebooks of Joseph Haydn)
Well, what can I possibly say to gild that lily? Oettingen was not exactly happy, but Müller had accepted the excuse, and in the long run there was no further fallout. Teflon Joe had got away with another one!
And they are a set worth fighting over too. We already saw last year's pair, here is the pièce de résistance of the trio, one of the finest works Haydn ever composed! Let's look (and listen);
Hob 1:92 in G
I |
Adagio – Allegro spiritoso |
G |
3/4 |
II |
Adagio |
D |
2/4 |
III |
Menuet: Allegretto – Trio |
G |
3/4 |
IV |
Presto |
G |
2/4 |
Instrumentation - Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 horns (in G & D), 2 Trumpets (in C), Timpani, 2 Violins, Viola, obbligato Cello, Cello & Baßo
When Landon is at his literary Romantic best, he usually appeals to me whether he is correct in his assertions or otherwise. Here, he conjoins a variety of synchronous events into a word picture of this beautiful introduction. The fall of the Bastille in July, the arrival in Eszterháza of Mozart's anti-Establishment masterpiece, Le Nozze di Figaro in preparation for its performance next year, and the overall fin de siècle aura of late 1789, all while Haydn was writing this last pre-Revolutionary work for an already fallen Paris, contribute to the making of a masterpiece here.
This Adagio introduction is made necessary by Haydn's decision to break a major rule of the time; he begins the main section as if in the middle of its theme rather than its beginning, and off the tonic key besides! The introduction itself starts off with three notes in the violins, then answered by the strings. The primary thought here, at least to me, is the cello playing a wandering sort of part which provides the basis for the others to surround with chromatic chords, which is repeated, and then joined, first by the flutes, then by the rest of the winds before moving into the main section.
This first movement is a treasure house of various contrapuntal forms, things like 'canzicrans' ('crablike' = sideways) and inversion (upside-down) forms of the main theme and several part canons. He reprises the theme at least three times, each one differently constructed, and so on top of everything else, it is also a large-scale set of variations. As Peter Brown says, 'Haydn plays out several tendencies seen previously. If each were found again in a different movement, it would be worthy of comment, but to bring them together in a single piece makes for an astonishing accomplishment!".
The second movement, also Adagio, is equally extraordinary in many ways. It begins with a long section of variations of all sorts (e.g. - orchestration and embellishments), and yet oddly symmetric. It is broken into two-bar-long statements and replies. This continues for some time, each time varied, until we come to a turbulent middle section in g minor, which is really a long wind band work. It is the centerpiece of the movement, a gem! Then we go back to the original idea to the finish.
The minuet is of the danceable type, not a scherzo, and a full-scale orchestral work. It varies from major to minor and back, but never loses the idea of being a minuet. The trio, on the other hand, has some most unusual features, based on an idea we first saw in Symphony #68 back in 1775 and then used in the previous work, Symphony 91. The quartet of 2 Horns and 2 Bassoons is made to enter one beat off from where they would have done. Then the lower strings and second violins join them. This leaves the flutes and the first violins to be the only ones who have found the downbeat properly and are playing 'on time'. The result is a rhythmic joke which lasts the entire Trio. I suspect it would have been a bear to dance to, with partners leaning in the wrong direction depending who they were keying on!
The finale begins with an unusual effect (can one say that enough about this work?) of the violins playing virtually alone, with only a cello scrambling around beneath them. One of the accretions which time dumped on Haydn's music in the 19th century was publishers filling in all the harmonies under here because they couldn't imagine he meant 'just violins'! But he did, and fortunately it is played this way again today. The violins and flute play the melodic theme, and the rest of the orchestra take turns playing the harmonic parts, and so everyone get plenty of opportunity to show their stuff. At 2/4 & Presto, the movements zips along, with energy and propulsion to burn! At one point he slides the key over to C major to give the trumpeter a real opportunity to show his best also. If you have been following this series for a while and listening along, you have heard some brilliant finales from Haydn, especially in the post-Sturm und Drang years when he had mastered moving the area of special interest in a work away from the first movement and towards the last. I will go out on a limb here and say this finale is the culmination of all of those efforts, and is the finest of them in every way. If Haydn had never made it to London, this would have been his last symphony, and if he had stopped right here, there is no doubt his legacy as the finest symphonist of the 18th century would have been sealed forever.
Next time we will look at the final works for Lire organizzata, some of the best divertimenti ever!
Thanks for reading!