It's not a huge secret that I have a huge crush on the great composer who died almost 90 years before I was born. Although my 'favorite' composer definitely began with Debussy, it quickly shifted over to Brahms in high school, as I heard for the first time the sublime Intermezzo op. 118 no 2...and have subsequently been unable to find an equal to that recording.
My love for Brahms' work is a series of favorites in many of the standard forms: Piano Concerto 2, mvt. 2, Cello sonata 1, Piano Quartet no. 1, and of course, the intensely emotional Symphony 3 mvt 3, subject of orchestration analysis for composition students around the world...to name just a few off the top of my head.
But when it comes to a whole, cohesive work that is perfect from beginning to end, I can't think of any symphony that comes as close to fulfilling my wildest expectations as far as sheer artistry, craftsmanship, and emotive power, as Symphony no. 1.
Symphony no. 1, Op. 68, was composed from 1845-1876. That's right: this work was in progress for over 20 years. Hailed as Beethoven's heir and the last hope for the revival of the symphonic form after that esteemed composer's 9th, Brahms felt the heavy burden of expectation placed on him (by Schumann)--and thus the need to create something truly fantastic. It is an understatement to say that he accomplished his objective; unlike the disastrous reception to his Violin Concerto and first Piano Concerto, this work achieved acclaim from its premiere in Karlsruhe and established his true fame in the classical music world.
The first time I came across this work, it was featured in the Japanese drama Nodame Cantabile. Mirroring the protagonist Chiaki Shinichi's ascent from despair to triumph, the piece's massive 45 minute program manages to contain this simple message in an extraordinarily succinct way. With the exception of the quaint and lovely little 3rd movement, with its flippant clarinet in 6/8, the entire work is not only devoted to this goal, it executes it without becoming repetitious or veering off course.
Some of my favorite things about this symphony:
The first movement begins with a huge unison, tutti and ff, with the timpani pounding like a heartbeat underneath counter to the suspended tone. Then the orchestra divides, with melodic strings and horns moving up by step, and other instruments moving down by step in tandem. The next time this beginning theme is heard, just after the exposition and before the development, the timpani crashes into a long roll; afterwards, although the listener's ears ache to hear it again, it never returns, leaving a feeling of unsatisfied expectations. Where other composers would utilize such a powerful and impactful technique multiple times to get the most out of it, Brahms effectively teases us by leaving us wanting more.
At the end of the sweet but mournful second movement, the concertmaster (Alexander Velinzon) spins out into a eulogistic solo, freely flowing up into lovely atmospheric notes. The rest of the movement is naturally perfect, as well, obviously, bringing tears to the eyes of the most stalwart of Romantic music skeptics (one of whom I dragged along for Thursday night...so I have concrete evidence!)
The third movement, which I find myself listening for most of all, begins with a playful clarinet solo, as mentioned above. Supported and contrasting with the strings as a swirling background, it is a very toned down third movement, for a symphony, but nevertheless breathes a gentle breath of air before the very heavy final movement.
The fourth movement is often described in terms of struggle and victory (or, as Ludovic Morlot put it, "from darkness into light"). During a rehearsal prior to the concert, which was audible in the offices on the 5th floor, we heard the first horn, Jeffrey Fair, practice the exquisite 'triumph' solo theme over and over. And at the same time, of course, there were about three people humming it upstairs, too...
Something that truly impresses me about this symphony is how much classic structure is utilized without becoming boring. Indeed, Brahms builds his melodies on carefully measured sequences of steps and leaps, and yet not only is each original, each is also completely singable. The development sections are all based on classic techniques; modulations, sequences, sentences, fragmentation, etc., and yet build and hold tension effectively until crashing to a close at the end of the movement. It may be argued that he deliberately uses these forms and structures in order to build the perfect symphony, not only insofar as form is concerned, but also just from an aesthetic perspective. The amount of work that must have gone into taking raw inspiration and crafting it into such a compact, finished form must have been staggering...well, we know it was, given how long it took him to complete it.
So, for one who has heard this symphony in recordings (mostly by Herbert von Karajan), how was my reaction to hearing it for the first time live...with the Seattle Symphony, no less? Well, to be honest, I went to see it twice...on Thursday night (June 11) and Sunday afternoon (June 14). The Thursday performance blew me away; rather than encouraging the orchestra to put energy into their performance, Morlot actually seemed to be reining them in. They reached maximum volume, maximum emotiveness, maximum intensity, so many times that it was a cascade of peaks and towards the end, one had to wonder if there was really anything else to give. Granted, the climax at the end was absolutely chilling -- with a sudden volume of air displacement due to the raised goosebumps on every audience member -- so it can't be said that it was disappointing, even with all of the lead-up the entire time. Everyone was giving everything they had.
This remained true on Sunday as well, but having given all they had on three consecutive evenings earlier...I have to say that they did seem a little deflated. They reached max volume, but it was a strained sort of emotion, the same feeling of climax as the last peak, where on Thursday night, every peak and climax had a completely different feeling. So even though I give them absolute credit for going all out, knowing the tax on energy prerequisite to even just listening to the symphony, I was actually a little sad that I didn't get to hear a repeat of Thursday's performance. Well, so it goes. You can't have everything...
Some of my favorite things about this symphony:
The first movement begins with a huge unison, tutti and ff, with the timpani pounding like a heartbeat underneath counter to the suspended tone. Then the orchestra divides, with melodic strings and horns moving up by step, and other instruments moving down by step in tandem. The next time this beginning theme is heard, just after the exposition and before the development, the timpani crashes into a long roll; afterwards, although the listener's ears ache to hear it again, it never returns, leaving a feeling of unsatisfied expectations. Where other composers would utilize such a powerful and impactful technique multiple times to get the most out of it, Brahms effectively teases us by leaving us wanting more.
At the end of the sweet but mournful second movement, the concertmaster (Alexander Velinzon) spins out into a eulogistic solo, freely flowing up into lovely atmospheric notes. The rest of the movement is naturally perfect, as well, obviously, bringing tears to the eyes of the most stalwart of Romantic music skeptics (one of whom I dragged along for Thursday night...so I have concrete evidence!)
The third movement, which I find myself listening for most of all, begins with a playful clarinet solo, as mentioned above. Supported and contrasting with the strings as a swirling background, it is a very toned down third movement, for a symphony, but nevertheless breathes a gentle breath of air before the very heavy final movement.
The fourth movement is often described in terms of struggle and victory (or, as Ludovic Morlot put it, "from darkness into light"). During a rehearsal prior to the concert, which was audible in the offices on the 5th floor, we heard the first horn, Jeffrey Fair, practice the exquisite 'triumph' solo theme over and over. And at the same time, of course, there were about three people humming it upstairs, too...
Something that truly impresses me about this symphony is how much classic structure is utilized without becoming boring. Indeed, Brahms builds his melodies on carefully measured sequences of steps and leaps, and yet not only is each original, each is also completely singable. The development sections are all based on classic techniques; modulations, sequences, sentences, fragmentation, etc., and yet build and hold tension effectively until crashing to a close at the end of the movement. It may be argued that he deliberately uses these forms and structures in order to build the perfect symphony, not only insofar as form is concerned, but also just from an aesthetic perspective. The amount of work that must have gone into taking raw inspiration and crafting it into such a compact, finished form must have been staggering...well, we know it was, given how long it took him to complete it.
So, for one who has heard this symphony in recordings (mostly by Herbert von Karajan), how was my reaction to hearing it for the first time live...with the Seattle Symphony, no less? Well, to be honest, I went to see it twice...on Thursday night (June 11) and Sunday afternoon (June 14). The Thursday performance blew me away; rather than encouraging the orchestra to put energy into their performance, Morlot actually seemed to be reining them in. They reached maximum volume, maximum emotiveness, maximum intensity, so many times that it was a cascade of peaks and towards the end, one had to wonder if there was really anything else to give. Granted, the climax at the end was absolutely chilling -- with a sudden volume of air displacement due to the raised goosebumps on every audience member -- so it can't be said that it was disappointing, even with all of the lead-up the entire time. Everyone was giving everything they had.
This remained true on Sunday as well, but having given all they had on three consecutive evenings earlier...I have to say that they did seem a little deflated. They reached max volume, but it was a strained sort of emotion, the same feeling of climax as the last peak, where on Thursday night, every peak and climax had a completely different feeling. So even though I give them absolute credit for going all out, knowing the tax on energy prerequisite to even just listening to the symphony, I was actually a little sad that I didn't get to hear a repeat of Thursday's performance. Well, so it goes. You can't have everything...
But you can get pretty damn close.
Sources:
Picture: http://www.jonathanjamesmusic.com/the-jaws-open-brahms-symphony-1/
Heinrich Neuhaus plays Brahms Intermezzo, Op. 118,No.2 truecrypt
Brahms: Piano Concerto No.2 In B Flat, Op.83 - 2. Allegro appassionato #HélèneGrimaud
Brahms: Piano Quartet No. 1 Op.25-4 (Am, Stern, Laredo, Yo-Yo Ma) TheGreatPerformers
Brahms Symphony n.3 III. Poco Allegretto - Bernstein rafottonello
Brahms Symphony No 1 Karajan Berliner Philharmoniker Adagio fukax
Sources:
Picture: http://www.jonathanjamesmusic.com/the-jaws-open-brahms-symphony-1/
Heinrich Neuhaus plays Brahms Intermezzo, Op. 118,No.2 truecrypt
Brahms: Piano Concerto No.2 In B Flat, Op.83 - 2. Allegro appassionato #HélèneGrimaud
Brahms: Piano Quartet No. 1 Op.25-4 (Am, Stern, Laredo, Yo-Yo Ma) TheGreatPerformers
Brahms Symphony n.3 III. Poco Allegretto - Bernstein rafottonello
Brahms Symphony No 1 Karajan Berliner Philharmoniker Adagio fukax
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