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Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809)
Symphony No. 104 in D major, Hob. 1/104, “London” (1795)
Adagio – Allegro
Andante
Menuetto: Allegro
Finale: Spiritoso
The year 1790 signaled a dramatic turn in Haydn’s creative and professional life. His employer, Prince Nicholas Esterhazy, died at the age of 76. His successor, Prince Anton, did not share his father’s enjoyment of music and consequently dismissed the court orchestra, but insisted Haydn retain the title “Kapellmeister to Prince Esterhazy.” Having no duties, but continuing to receive full salary, Haydn moved to Vienna to lead a quiet life. But fate intervened in the person of Johann Peter Salomon who convinced Haydn to come to England, an offer made all but irresistible by a hugely generous financial stipend, for which he would write an opera, six symphonies, and 20 further works, all to be performed under his own supervision and direction. In spite of objections from his friends who feared he was too old, and Mozart’s concern the language might prove an insuperable barrier, Haydn replied, “All the world understands my language.” Thus he embarked on what would be two visits to England, the first from 1791 to 1792 and the second from 1794 to 1795. He himself described these periods as the happiest times of his life as he immersed himself in the rich musical life of London. From this immensely satisfying time would come the crowning achievements of his career – the twelve Salomon or London Symphonies.
Exactly why the Symphony No. 104 is called the “London” is not known, for actually all 12 of his last symphonies are “London” symphonies. Nevertheless, on May 4, 1795, Haydn conducted this, his last completed symphony. The occasion was a great success, both artistically and financially, as Haydn noted he “made 4000 gulden on this evening. Such a thing is only possible in England.”
The stately opening adagio has a gravity which reminds many listeners of the mood associated with the ominous motif of the Commendatore in Mozart’s Don Giovanni. But this quickly gives way to the primary theme, an allegro of grace and elegance which in the course of the movement goes through a dramatic development. The second movement is quite lyrical, warm and sensitive. The third movement is a characteristic Haydn minuet, jolly and boisterous, but with a couple of humorous surprises. The last movement is thought to be based on a London street song known as “Hot Cross Buns,” an association which might justify the symphony’s being called “London.” It brings the symphony to a close with almost unbridled good humor and fun.
Piotr Ilich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893)Violin Concerto in D major, op. 35 (1878)
Allegro moderato
Canzonetta: Andante
Finale: Allegro vivacissimo
If the Haydn “London” symphonies were composed during one of the happiest periods of the composer’s life, the exact opposite is true of the period in Tchaikovsky’s life which produced his Violin Concerto. Tchaikovsky was undergoing an extremely tumultuous personal upheaval resulting from his disastrous marriage to Antonina Milyukova, a former student of his who obsessively manipulated the kindhearted and generous composer into a liaison from which he seemed unable to escape. Tchaikovsky saw the marriage as an opportunity to convince the world that he was not homosexual, and in spite of the pleading and cajoling of his friends and family, he entered into a marriage travesty which lasted only nine weeks, and from which he emerged an emotionally shattered man. His salvation came, as it frequently did, from his patroness Nadezhda von Meck who sent him the money for his much-needed escape from Moscow and allowed him the freedom to concentrate on composing. It was during this self-imposed exile he completed three of his most important works – the Fourth Symphony, the opera Eugene Onegin, and the Violin Concerto.
Tchaikovsky dedicated the work to the great virtuoso Leopold Auer who, after having examined the concerto and its terrifying difficulties, declared it unplayable. Not only did he refuse to play it, but actively campaigned against its performance by any other Russian violinists. For almost four years the work sat idle until Adolf Brodsky premiered it, not in Moscow but in Vienna. The result was a mixed and riotous reception which prompted the venom of most of Vienna’s critics, among whom was the famous Eduard Hanslick who declared the concerto “long and pretentious.” He even condemned this “vulgar” work as confirming “for the first time the hideous notion that there can be music that stinks to the ear.” Brodsky was undeterred however and continued to perform the concerto, eventually winning admiration for the work. Tchaikovsky’s gratitude to Brodsky resulted in the composer’s transferring the dedication to him in subsequent editions. Even Auer eventually became a champion of the concerto although he never actually performed it, but he did pass it down to his students, one of whom was Jascha Heifetz.
The concerto opens with a long orchestral introduction in which are stated the two principal themes of the first movement. After the violin enters there is an ongoing restating and elaborating the principal themes between the soloist and the orchestra. One of the themes is the basis for a thrilling orchestral passage which for a moment steals the show from the soloist. The slow movement is a very Russian “little song,” a “Canzonetta” as Tchaikovsky called it, which is stated by the violin after a brief introduction in the woodwinds. There is some particularly deft and charming writing for woodwinds in this movement. Without any interruption, the orchestra vigorously introduces the third movement, a fiery dance which provides the basis for the dazzling role given to the soloist. The vitality of the movement has all the characteristics of a Russian rural folk scene and again there is some charming writing for the woodwinds, particularly an engaging dialogue between oboe, clarinet, and bassoon before the whirlwind finale.
Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)Three Hungarian Dances (arr. 1873)
No. 1 in G minor: Allegro molto
No. 3 in F major: Allegretto
No. 10 in F major: Presto
Among Brahms’s shorter compositions, the four books of Hungarian Dances show him at his sunniest and happiest. The 21 dances were originally written for piano duet, but nos. 1, 3, and 10 were eventually orchestrated by Brahms himself. Eventually all of the dances came to be transcribed for orchestra, albeit not by Brahms. The dances are actual Hungarian tunes to which Brahms added his own ingenious harmonies. No. 1 throbs with gypsy intensity; no. 3 features a jaunty tune punctuated briefly by a vigorous dance; and no.10 conjures a charming rural festival.
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