HAYDN AND THE SYMPHONY. Haydn was the first composer to understand the richness of the symphonic form and to exploit it. During the thirty years he spent in the service of the Esterhazy family, he lived most of the time in musical isolation that forced him to rely on his own resources.
Having no one to turn to for advice and no role model to follow, he was forced to be original. However, his situation had certain compensations: he led a group of accomplished musicians and had the freedom to make them do whatever he wanted.
Haydn took advantage of this advantage and, having expanded his orchestra, he tirelessly experimented with all sorts of things, composing a huge series of magnificent symphonies and an enormous quantity of works of all kinds.
The number of symphonies attributed to him amounts to one hundred, but since his work is imperfectly listed, the numbers they bear do not correspond to the chronological order. At least one recording has been made of each of them, and these sound documents allow us to trace the evolution that made Haydn the undisputed father of the genre.
It was in 1761, when he had just turned twenty-nine, that Haydn wrote his first symphonies (Nos. 6, 7 and 8) for the orchestra that Prince Esterhazy had just formed. They form a trilogy and the composer himself gave them French names: le Matin, le Midi and le Soir. In many ways they resemble baroque concertos and include passages for solo instruments.
Among the musicians of the orchestra were four talented horn players. It was undoubtedly for them that Haydn composed in 1765 his Symphony No.31 ("Horn Call") in which passages of extreme difficulty are entrusted to these instruments.
In his mature age, he composed one of his most famous symphonies, Symphony No.45, written in the unusual key of F sharp minor. Its nickname, 'The Farewell', comes from the last movement, in which the players stop playing one after the other, turn off their lights and leave their desks until only two violinists remain. It was a joke in which Haydn wanted to make the prince understand that the musicians needed a vacation.
Haydn then went through a phase called his Sturm und Drang period. This German expression literally means "storm and passion" and describes a literary movement at the end of the 18th century.
Characterized by the preponderance of feelings, it foreshadowed romanticism. Eight of Haydn's symphonies, from Symphony No.49 (the Passion) to Symphony No.56 in C, illustrate the influence this movement had on his life. A wide use is made of minor keys.
In 1780 Haydn was internationally renowned and a Parisian music society commissioned him to write a series of six symphonies. Each of the works that make up this ensemble, known as the Symphonies Parisiennes, bears a nickname: the Bear (No.82), the Hen (No.83) or the Queen (No.85).
In 1790 he received a pension from Prince Esterhazy and moved to Vienna where he bought a house. He did not stay there for long, however, because he could not resist the invitation of an impresario named Johann Salomon, who organized concerts in London. He made two very successful stays in London and composed two series of six symphonies known indifferently as "London Symphonies" or "Salomon".
It's to this series that belong "The Surprise" (#94) with its sudden stroke of the kettledrum made to wake up an audience; "The Clock" (#101) with its persistent ticking rhythm; "The DrumRoll" (#103) and "The Miracle" (#96). The nickname of this last symphony was given to it by mistake.
It should in fact have been attached to the symphony No.102 because it derives from an incident that occurred during the performance of this work. A chandelier had fallen and, as no one was injured, a miracle was shouted for. With the "Londoners" Haydn's genius will reach its apogee.
When Haydn arrived in London in 1791, he had been composing symphonies for 35 years. He had almost always worked with the same orchestra, which had allowed him to indulge his penchant for experimentation, looking for all possible combinations of instruments and ways to create special effects.
He had developed a symphonic formula that served as a happy canvas for 81 of the 108 symphonies he composed: a fast opening movement, followed by a slow movement with variations; a minuet whose central part was a trio contrasting with the rest of the movement; a fast finale.
Haydn never let this formula dictate stereotypical music, however, but used it as a mould into which to pour the ever-changing material his imagination provided him with inexhaustible resources.
Haydn's originality and sense of humour are particularly apparent in two symphonies, The Surprise and The Clock Full of Surprises, which show how skillfully he knew how to handle the most unexpected effects.
They are part of the group of 12 works written during his stay in London (where they were called 'overtures'). They represent not only the pinnacle of Haydn's art as a symphonist, but also one of the two peaks reached by this genre in the 18th century, Mozart's last symphonies representing the other.  (next at 3:11:52)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE CLOCK. The work owes its nickname of "The Clock" to the ticking of the persistent rhythm that can be heard throughout the second movement.
First movement: adagio presto. Calm and solemn, the introduction seems to emanate from the mists of the Thames. Its ample, misty sonorities raise a slow melody that hesitantly takes shape in the shadows. Suddenly the sun's rays seem to disperse the morning vapours while the energetic voice of the first violins rises in a dancing presto.
They invite the whole orchestra to join them and the music frolics merrily, the flutes helping the violins to present the main theme for the second time. The second subject is then introduced. The music then enters a phase of happiness which, at its climax, would touch hysteria if the first violins, followed by the cellos and double basses, did not put a stop to these outbursts with their descending scales.
The development contained in this section provides a perfect illustration of this. It begins with an allusions to the theme of excerpt 2, which becomes clearer and more threatening until the music plunges through dizzying descending scales in a chaotic development.
Halfway through the movement, bitter fights oppose enemy themes and the tension is only released on eight clearly stated chords after a long episode where war has constantly raged. The strings then try to lighten the atmosphere, then the clear voice of a flute brings a note of cheerfulness and the development ends with a descending scale.
Then the recapitulation begins, bringing surprises as well. It takes place in a climate of extraordinary freedom as the movement approaches its climax. The theme of excerpt 2 is entrusted to the cellos, who play it loudly back to the violins and happily catch it when the violins play it back to them. The anguish that had manifested itself earlier reappears, transformed by the glorious sunlight.  (next at 3:19:37)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
**The second movement: andante.** The ticking of the clock can be heard immediately, produced by two bassoons supported by the 'pizzicati' of the second violins, cellos and double basses.
This accompaniment, simple at the beginning but which will become more complicated later on, serves as a base for the volutes of the main theme: The entire movement revolves around this theme and its derivatives.
At the end of a first section, which is short and characterized by an ascending motive executed with verve by the bassoon, the theme is repeated; the bassoon makes his voice heard again, this time in a descending motive, and then the second section drifts.
The key changes to D major to prepare for the entry of a second subject, for which Haydn borrows only a fragment of the initial theme.  He reverses it, compresses it, and uses the result as a new idea.
A solo oboe plays a note it holds for the duration of this statement, and then joins the violins to repeat the entire main theme in a considerably modified form. The descending bassoon motif marks the end of the section.
We then switch to G minor for the presentation of a new theme, while the strings in the lowest register and the winds continue to mark the ticking rhythm. The initial theme in dotted rhythm is nervously repeated several times, heralding a storm.
It bursts but immediately calms down to let the ticking sound that has been picked up by the flute and bassoon. These two instruments engage in a comic duet while the violins repeat the main theme.
Then all of a sudden, the clock stops. When it starts beating again, it is entrusted to the second violins, which have adopted the key of E flat, the first violins trying to make the main theme be heard again despite the efforts of an angry flute that wants to prevent them from doing so.
Also irritated, the orchestra gives a moment of its voice and then falls silent. The main theme bursts out in the initial key while the horns sustain the ticking and the violins activate the movement. (next at 3:26:57)
**Third movement: minuet and trio (allegretto)** While the minuet of "Surprise" was light, airy, joyful, the minuet of "The Clock" is weighted, solemn and highly developed. The mood is announced in the first part by a wide sound and a firm rhythm.
The violins calmly begin the second part while a gentle rolling of the timpani underlines the rhythm. A brief conversation between oboes, bassoons and horns leads to a modified version of the first part.
The strings first make a humming sound that seems to be intended as an accompaniment to a soloist who may seem for a moment to have forgotten to make his entrance. The flute ends up producing a simple melody, but four of the upper notes it emits do not match the accompaniment. (next at 3:34:39)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
**In the finale there is an echo of the phrases heard earlier. The rapid fall serves as an introduction to the next section and the music explodes in a tumultuous passage, an instant interrupted by a solo oboe that makes a hesitant chant sound.
The orchestra resonates the three long notes while the violins keep the excitement alive. Abruptly, a long passage in D minor begins where the music is dragged relentlessly by the furious brass band. A return to D major seems to herald a quiet re-exposure.
It is in fact a huge fugue that begins, in which the various string instruments compete for the first theme. The oboes, bassoons and horns play the three long notes of the first theme. They succeed in imposing themselves during the breathless conclusion.  END
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
