Repertoire: The Haydn Symphony Crusade (No. 39) Sturm und Drang!!!

Yes, the Sturm und Drang period is truly with us! From here on, Haydn's symphonies become bigger, faster, louder, softer, darker, brighter--in a word, more intense and more highly contrasted generally. No. 39, in G minor, is a tense, passionate piece that most likely influenced the two symphonies by Mozart (Nos. 25 and 40) in the same key.
Musical Examples courtesy of Naxos Records

[@antoineduchamp4931]

If I had done a degree in Classical music at a top university, I would never have learned as such as I do from you. Thank you David.

[@DavesClassicalGuide]

Thank you!

[@jackmiller881]

Thank you, Dave. The Toronto Symphony is going to play this symphony next week and because I am donor have been invited to the rehearsal. Will appreciate it more now that I have heard this. I mentioned before that I have listened to Haydn symphonies since the Dorati discs came out in the early 1970's and have them on CDs. I cannot imagine my life with out the Haydn symphonies

[@DavesClassicalGuide]

Have fun!

[@THELONGHOSEcom]

I just listened to this masterpiece for the first time whilst driving and had to stop the car, now I am home and googled this piece, truly awesome music, thanks for the video and explanation!

[@ruramikael]

Spot on, Dave! Even more disturbing is that the introduction of two one-bar pauses in the exposition results in one seven-bar phrase and one five-bar phrase!

[@raneads1458]

Once the folks became enlightened, music followed!

[@willgreencinema]

Been waiting for this one, Dave!!! Finally!! GREAT AS ALWAYS!!!!!

[@steveschwartz8944]

Grand talk. I really like this series. You've told me so much.

[@henrystratmann807]

Yet another excellent analysis of still another groundbreaking Haydn symphony. I particularly enjoyed your in-depth description of the striking use of silence in this work. That made me think of other memorable examples in Haydn's oeuvre when he also injects an unexpected and telling pause into the musical proceedings. Here are the first ten masterpieces that came to me: 1. Fantasia (Capriccio) in C Major, Hob. XVII:4 2. String Quartet in E-flat Major, Op. 33, No. 2 3. String Quartet in B-flat Major, Op. 50, No. 1 4. String Quartet in C Major, Op. 54, No. 2 5. Symphony No. 23 in G Major 6. Symphony No. 45 in F-sharp Minor 7. Symphony No. 52 in C Minor 8. Symphony No. 80 in D Minor 9. Symphony No. 90 in C Major 10 . Symphony No. 100 in G Major The instance(s) of unanticipated quiet I am thinking of in each one can occur at its beginning, in the middle, or towards the end. The duration of that standstill in activity may be relatively short or confusingly long. However, rather than point out what part(s) of each work I am thinking of where time temporarily stops, I suggest that anyone interested in this topic listen to them and recall/discover for themselves where those abysses of aural nothingness are and the effect they have. And yes, I can think of many other masterworks where, long before Simon & Garfunkel, Haydn explored the dramatic possibilities of "the sound of silence." Would anyone else care to add their own examples?

[@henrystratmann807]

@@elaineblackhurst1509 Both of your examples are excellent, particularly in the drastically different effects silence/pauses play in those two movements. In the "Clock" it is as if an invisible hand reached into an old-fashioned grandfather clock and grabbed its pendulum--halting the latter's steady tick-tock motion for a second or so at the far end of its swing, then releasing the pendulum to resume its previous back-and-forth movement, but with a bit of an initial wobble before settling down again to its usual humdrum rhythm. And that third-related shift from G Major to E-flat Major whose dramatic impact you point out mimics in reverse the shift in tonic key between the first two movements of Symphony No. 99--coincidence, or design? Given Haydn's propensity for third-relationships in so many of his late works (especially the piano trios and string quartets), it does make one wonder... Likewise, those abrupt pauses in the stuttering theme of the B Minor sonata really do enhance the nervousness of what is already a dark, anxious, edgy piece--nudging the musical proceedings off balance again and again. Your mention of the latter work also reminds me another minor key piano sonata--the fermata-filled first movement of the E Minor, Hob. XVI:34. I know for a fact that you are aware of a very nice KZbin video on that movement (the "tonebase piano" channel, with Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, titled "Haydn: Master of Surprise"), due to you adding a comment to it. I too highly recommend it to readers here who are unfamiliar with that outstanding video, with one major caveat. The pianist states that Haydn wrote only "5" of his "62" piano sonatas in minor keys. The reasons why the latter number is problematic you already know, but for other readers I will just state it is without going into details. The "5" number is wrong for a much simpler reason--the correct number is 8. There are 3 more minor key Haydn piano sonatas--the G Minor Hob. XVI:44, and 2 (one in E Minor, another in D Minor) in a block of (tragically) lost sonatas from around the time of his "Sturm und Drang" period. Unfortunately, while the G Minor is still existent, unless someone is able to pull off a more successful fraud panning off their own compositions as these two Haydn works than was staged in the early 1990s, or the real ones are found stuffed in the back of a file cabinet in the Prague National Museum, they are lost forever. What a brilliant idea to play the opening of No. 39 with and without that pregnant pause! You are right--without those empty bars the music is "good" at a J.B. Vanhal level, but with them it is "great" and Haydnesque. The anachronistic and absurd image those initial measures brings to my mind is of Haydn, dressed in powdered wig and full livery, sitting behind the wheel of a new Ferrari, with us listeners as his passengers. At the beginning of the symphony he puts pedal to the metal, we are pressed back into our seats as the figurative vehicle accelerates--and then he suddenly hits the brakes, jerking us back and forth, before starting rapidly forward once more before we have a chance to get comfortable again. Here is another thought experiment. What would the opening of another great G Minor symphony, K. 550, sound like if the same pause used at the beginning of Haydn's Symphony 39 were inserted into a similar spot (bar 9) of Mozart's masterpiece? To me, the opening of that later work conjures up the picture of someone standing on a beach watching an ocean wave slowly grow in the distance and steadily move toward them as the racing water increases in strength and power. If the wave were to suddenly stop moving, like a freeze frame in a movie or video, for a few seconds as it rushes toward its crest, the observer would certainly be jarred by the sight--but also realize that such a thing was contrary to the laws of physics, thus shattering their perception/processing of what they think they were seeing. In short, I think that the pause in Haydn's work enhances it, while a comparable pause in Mozart's would be detrimental. Your estimation of how long those two true diminuendos in Hob. XVII:4 would last on a modern piano made me wonder--was that Haydn's prophetic anticipation (well, around 1/9th of it) of John Cage? And I agree about the need (echoed by David in many of his videos) to inject drama and (somewhat paradoxically) energy into Haydn's music via his uses of silence and pauses, as well as in other ways. Otherwise, one gets an unjustly homogeneous Haydn, brought down to the level of plain vanilla ice cream instead of the much more colorful rainbow variety. Finally, your comments on those play-without-pause connections between movements are also spot-on. That technique is very striking in many of C.P.E. Bach's symphonic works, and it is extremely plausible that Haydn's more selective use of run-on movements (to give a couple more examples, the two middle movements of the C Major string quartets from Op. 20 and Op. 54) derives from the older composer. Thank you for sharing all those insights!

[@henrystratmann807]

@@elaineblackhurst1509 Your comments are the very opposite of "nonsense." They are all insightful and germane. Yes, I am familiar with all of the 18th century composers of G Minor symphonies you mention and their specific works in that key. J. C. Bach needs no introduction, and I have read about F. I. Beck, K. von Ordonez, and J. B. Vanhal via their mentions in sundry works by Robbins Landon and others (e.g. Heartz's "Haydn, Mozart, and the Viennese School" has nice little profiles of von Ordonez and Vanhal, but inexplicably omits any mention of Beck). And I either have CDs of the G Minor symphonies by those latter four composers or have listened to performances of them on KZbin. I agree--despite the wide and obvious stylistic differences among all those symphonies, there is at least one movement in all of them that fulfill's Schubart's idea of G Minor as expressing discontent and uneasiness. (BTW, I have not read translations of that work myself, but I am familiar with it indirectly from other works that quote its descriptions regarding the characteristics of different keys). The sound and style of Mozart's two G Minor symphonies are very different indeed. The earlier one is clearly modeled on Haydn's overall "Sturm und Drang" minor key style, and most specifically on his No. 39. Conversely, K. 550's sound world has, to my ears, more in common with Schubert's (with an e...) B Minor symphony. However, each of Mozart's two masterpieces has, in its own way, a dominant mood similar to what Schubart attributes to that tonic. For that matter, the same can be said of Mozart's two late, great chamber works in that key, both far too famous to expend effort naming... And, as David pointed out in his presentation, the way Haydn creates that G Minor mood is strikingly different in No. 39's outer movements. The opening one begins in subdued, slightly murky mystery and a feeling of coiled energy unwinding that is enhanced by those pregnant pauses. In contrast, the closing movement's in-your-face fury makes one at least understand (though not necessarily approve) how that symphony received one of its rarely used nicknames, "Tempesta di mare." (The other nickname, "The Fist," is even more fanciful, if not downright ridiculous--something that can also be said of many other nicknames anonymously scrawled like graffiti on more of the composer's works.) At the risk of painting too surreal a picture, when listening to Symphony No 39's fourth movement one might imagine a Napoleonic-era British frigate caught in a raging Atlantic gale so terrifying its sailors actually are displeased by the threat of Death. In the hurly burly of the storm their vessel threatens to capsize, sending them all flailing into a watery grave--and then the seamen spy something even more terrifying (as well as firmly ensconced in the realm of anachronistic fantasy). On one side of the floundering ship the titular characters of the novel "Moby Dick" and the movie "Jaws" are vying to see which of them will soon turn those doomed mariners into their personal hor d'oeuvres. And then, for the final fatal turn of the screw, in the last seconds of their lives as they tumble into the towering waves, the crew members realize that those two behemoths have stopped fighting each other and, in a rare display of mutually beneficial compromise, decided to share the bounty they are about to receive... Shifting back from the silly to the scholarly, the G Minor of Haydn's Op. 20, No. 3 and Op. 74, No. 3 also sounds spiky, discontented, and unfulfilled. Likewise the massive orchestral opening of "The Seasons." But the real (ahem) chicken in the room is Haydn's other G Minor symphony. While the latter's overall mood and aesthetic is radically different from its older tonic sibling, the primary theme of No. 83's first movement is also dominated by pauses similar to those found in the earlier work. However, that obvious point aside, each one's sense of uneasiness is produced by subtly different means, e.g. the initial piano versus fortissimo dynamics, the earlier introduction of the first pause in No. 83, and that harsh c# in the second measure of the latter. As for your other comments, they are so conclusive and complete that I have virtually nothing to add. Your ideas speak eloquently for themselves, and I concur with your observations. For a final dotting of the i's and crossing of the t's, however, I must add to your list of minor keys used for symphonies in the latter half of the 18th century the one in C-sharp Minor (at least before he transposed it down a half-step in that later, revised version) by J. M. Kraus. I have read there was another symphony in this key written during that time period, but I have never been able to confirm that or identify the purported composer. While Haydn's "Farewell" is said to be the only Classical period symphony in F-sharp Minor, at least he graced us with a string quartet and piano trio too using that key (with Mozart adding the middle movement of K. 488) to give us at least a whisper of what that rare tonic was thought to mean/represent. Besides Kraus's symphony, however, the only other C-sharp Minor work from that era I know of is Hob. XVI:36--an even more paltry and statistically insignificant sample size to judge than F-sharp Minor. Until, of course, Beethoven's turn-of-the-century Op. 27, No. 2... I will end with a general paean to David for sharing his time, experience, and expertise on this channel. I greatly enjoy being one of the students in his "Kollege of Musical Knowledge" (an allusion to something that actually predates me and is meant as sincere, if slightly jocular, praise). Likewise, I am glad his channel also provides a forum where I can occasionally participate in a dialogue like this one, with individuals such as you whose knowledge of and experience with classical music greatly exceeds mine. To David and all concerned, thank you!

[@miltonjohnston1683]

At last! I have been waiting for this one and want to thank you for the masterful analysis.

[@DavesClassicalGuide]

My pleasure!

[@cappycapuzi1716]

excellent chat! I associate motivic development and the silences with Beethoven's music....but it's all here with Haydn already!

[@tareldarion6791]

Finally, new Crusade episode

[@Scottlp2]

I wonder how many people here understand that reference lol

[@tareldarion6791]

@@Scottlp2?

[@samlaser1975]

Dave, you nailed it! Move over, H.C. Roberts Landon!

[@mikaelbeskow9221]

Brilliant lecture!

[@richardsandmeyer4431]

Nothing says "Sturn und Drang" to me as emphatically as the first movement of this symphony. Thank-you for the explanation of the part silence plays in its effectiveness.

[@davidaiken1061]

A fine analysis of a great symphony. Thank you for this series! I hope it has the result of promoting Haydn's cause. I am an avowed Haydn fanatic. As I have often maintained, only J. S. Bach could compare with Haydn by combining prolific output with consistently high quality. How did Haydn do it? Beethoven gave us nine splendid symphonies and 16 amazing string quartets. Haydn gave us 107 of the former and 82 of the latter, and I can't think of a dull one in either bunch. I have to say, though that the Naxos performance you aired, though well played, has a far too prominent harpsichord, recalling Beecham's famous comparison with "skeletons copulating on a tin roof." Too much jangling for me.

[@DavesClassicalGuide]

Fair enough. I think I made it pretty clear that I agree with you.

[@davidaiken1061]

@@DavesClassicalGuide I generally like the Naxos Haydn series you've be featuring for these broadcasts, but this one seemed to have a more aggressive harpsichord than usual. If one has to have a continuo in early to middle Haydn (not necessary), I prefer the fortepiano (Solomons uses one for his--regrettably--abortive Haycn symphony cycle); it is less obtrusive and more appropriate for music of the Classical period.

[@davidaiken1061]

@@elaineblackhurst1509 Thanks for your comment. My memory may be fallible on this matter, since I haven't listened to the Solomons recordings for a number of years. If Solomons does use a harpsichord, then I wonder where I heard the fortepiano used as a continuo in some Haydn symphonies. Could I have imagined it? Over the years I have heard so many period instrument Haydn recordings, it could be any one of them, if not Solomons. By the way, did you know that at least two volumes of the Solomons series were reissued on CBS before it became Sony? And, last time I checked on Amazon, one of them was still available. Thanks again for the correction, if in fact my memory was in error.

[@carlconnor5173]

I see. Or I should say I ‘hear’ the silence now. Although I’ve noticed it, the strategy of it never struck me before. Talking about waiting for something that never comes in the Finale reminds me of your talk about Sibelius’s 4th Finale, howbeit in a different way.

[@markeslick1680]

If you typed this out, it could be a PhD dissertation. Excellent content, Dave.

[@TheUtke]

This whole series could have been called “Haydn seek, and you shall find!”

[@williamwhittle216]

Now you are gettting into the Haydn in my collection. I never bought a complete set, but purchased as I proceeded through life. My biggest partial sets are by Marriner (that you reviewed), and the Pinnock. Any thoughts on the latter? Oh yesl I got several symphonyies in the Orjpheus box. No Dorati, though I have LPa from his set. Dave, you are a genius!

[@DavesClassicalGuide]

Lots of thoughts. Someday I'll discuss them!

[@samlaser1975]

Robbins. Apologies , Howard. Mere Typo.

[@michaelhartman8724]

news: Nicholas Ward is retiring.