Symphony No. 5 in E-flat, Op. 82
Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
The Fifth Symphony is among the longest and most-revised of all seven symphonies of Sibelius. He conceived the work as early as 1912 but did not begin its serious composition until 1914. The symphony’s premiere in late 1915 did not satisfy Sibelius, however, so he prepared a second version for a 1916 performance. Still dissatisfied, the composer withdrew the work for extensive revision and re-writing. World War I and civil war in Finland probably prevented him from enjoying the long periods of concentration needed for this task, but in late 1918, he wrote in a letter:
I am working daily at the Fifth Symphony in a new form, practically composed anew. The first movement is reminiscent of the old, the third reminiscent of the end of the old first movement. The fourth movement has the old themes, but strong in revision. The whole, if I may say so, [is] a vital climax to the end. Triumphal.
The following year saw the completion of the revision, but apparently, the work had to wait until early 1921 for a performance, which took place in London under the baton of the composer.
The most radical of Sibelius’s revisions to the Fifth Symphony was the merging of the original first two movements into one movement. If we had to choose one word to describe what these two parts have in common, it would be “fanfare.” In the slow, introductory opening section, Sibelius exposes and develops expansive, noble themes that form a kind of annunciation. Almost imperceptibly, the music slips from this into the quick-waltz of the second half. Here, the composer transforms the principal slow theme into a more playful fanfare theme that dominates most of the second half up to its brilliant final notes.
The Andante proves that Sibelius could take the simplest musical materials and make them sound fresh and original. Here is a movement build on a folk-like theme, which he nonetheless imbues with symphonic depth of meaning. Again and again, the theme returns, each time enhanced or changed a little.
The last movement is like a mirror of the first movement: two big sections, fast and then slow. The bustling of the strings that opens the movement is provocative but becomes secondary to the broad theme that follows. This famous horn melody has been likened to the “massive cadence of the sea” or “Thor swinging his hammer.” Working with each of these ideas, Sibelius arrives at an extensive slower section, which is the symphony’s apotheosis. Thor’s hammer beats time and tension builds. Release comes only in the late moments, punctuated by the final stabbing chords.
Summarizing Sibelius’s Symphony No. 5, critic Olin Downes wrote that it is “a work of firm serenity and immense contained strength. . . . The Fifth Symphony has not to do with perturbation, revolution, violence, revolt. It is music of inner tranquility, imposing strength and individuality of design.”
Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Minor, Op. 15
Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)
The First Piano Concerto by Brahms — also his first work for orchestra — came into existence in a roundabout and unusual way. In 1854, Brahms began work on a D minor “sonata” for two pianos. (Actually, composing for two pianos was the method Brahms was developing for sketching his orchestral music.) This work, then, he soon conceived to be a possible first symphony. Yet he had problems translating this piano music into idiomatic orchestral terms. Ever the intense self-critic, he revised his music repeatedly. He was still at work on it in 1857, when he obtained his first official post at the court of Detmold. On the suggestion of his friend, Julius Grimm, Brahms decided to convert the work into his First Piano Concerto, using the first two movements of the “sonata” and adding a new finale. In that form he completed the concerto in 1858 and premiered it the following year, first in Hanover and Leipzig, then in his hometown of Hamburg. Public reaction was not particularly good. The work was neither entertaining nor dazzlingly virtuosic. Rather, it made the audience think, as would any profound symphonic statement.
What to listen for: Before the piano begins, Brahms presents us with a lengthy orchestral introduction. Notice the tense and dramatic character of the opening and the tragic mood a little later. The orchestra’s closing material becomes the piano’s entrée. Through the soloist, you will hear several new ideas, and toward the end a long piano solo.
When composing the Adagio, Brahms wrote to Clara Schumann (a brilliant pianist-composer and widow of Brahms’s early mentor, Robert Schumann), “I am painting a lovely portrait of you; it is to be the Adagio.” This is probably as close as this shy man ever came to an outward declaration of love for Clara. In this lyrical essay, the soloist must take three roles: something like a singer, a decorator of orchestral passages and a virtuoso in the late solo.
The quasi-Hungarian main theme of the finale contrasts beautifully with alternating sections, the first of which is a piano episode. Listen for both new ideas and recurrences of the Hungarian theme. The last of these leads to a formal piano solo marked “quasi fantasia.” Finally, Brahms changes the coloring of the Hungarian theme for a long conclusion, interrupted only briefly by another piano solo before the dynamic finish.
Program Notes by Michael Fink and Notes, Inc.
