The Fourth Symphony is probably Beethoven’s least well known, a situation that no doubt owes much to its position sandwiched between the Third – at that time the largest and most complex symphony ever composed – and the viscerally powerful and uplifting Fifth. Beside these two great forward steps in symphonic thinking, the brusque Fourth can seem dwarfed, its relatively lightweight frame and predominantly cheerful nature apparently offering no equivalent either to their massive presences or to their mighty extramusical messages. But it is a thoroughly Beethovenian work nevertheless, taut with muscular strength, propelled with unstoppable momentum and shot through with its composer’s unmistakable stylistic fingerprints. Produced in the same year as the Violin Concerto, the Fourth Piano Concerto and the three ‘Razumovsky’ String Quartets, it purrs with the mature assurance of Beethoven’s so-called ‘middle period’ compositions and, like so many of those, is among his most lovable and appealing creations.That Beethoven followed his powerful Third, Fifth and Seventh Symphonies with more ‘relaxed’ ones has often been remarked, but it is also worth noting that composition of the Fourth Symphony actually began after that of the Fifth.
In September 1806 the composer was a visitor at the home of Count Franz von Oppersdorff in Upper Silesia (now in Poland), where he was treated to a performance of his own four-year-old Second Symphony by the court orchestra. Before long Oppersdorff had commissioned a new symphony and, despite having already begun the Fifth, Beethoven set it aside in favour of the work that was to become the Fourth, reckoning, perhaps, that the Count’s evident enthusiasm for the more Haydnesque world of the Second Symphony demanded another work in similar vein.
Haydn’s influence surely lies behind the symphony’s opening, though it is doubtful whether even he ever composed a symphonic slow introduction quite so searching and ambiguous. Indeed, a more likely inspiration might be the ‘Representation of Chaos’ that begins Haydn’s oratorio The Creation; certainly there is an air of awestruck emptiness to it that suggests contemplation of the heavens. This remarkable passage of music eventually leads, via a cunningly calculated acceleration, to the main body of the movement, a bold Allegro vivace that seems to have put the dark thoughts of the opening behind it, while simultaneously having somehow drawn strength from them. Beethoven’s melodic material here is memorable, but it is the way he uses his themes to control rhythmic momentum that is most impressive; everything serves to push the music forwards.
The second movement maintains this tight control of forward movement, even though in its main theme and subsidiary for solo clarinet this is the tenderest of Adagios. The momentum is preserved partly through strategic reappearances of the jagged rhythm of the opening bars and partly by the way in which, typically, Beethoven ‘busies’ the accompaniment to the main theme whenever it returns. The movement has its dark side, too, in an unexpected angry minor-key outburst that interrupts the main theme’s third appearance.
Though not so titled, the third movement is in the form of a scherzo. Convention dictated that such a movement be in two sections, with the first heard again after the second, but in this symphony Beethoven decided for the first time to expand the scheme so that the bounding first section is heard three times and the second – in this case a lilting tune for the winds with short promptings from the strings – twice. In a further playful twist, the final appearance of the first section is brought to an abrupt end by an irascible blast from the horns.
The jokey mood continues into the finale, a movement of almost constant scampering semiquaver action. The spirit of Haydn is again in evidence, most unequivocally in the mock-tentative, slowed-down version of the main theme that appears just before the end, but the whole is infused with characteristically Beethovenian brashness and strength. Small this symphony may be when compared to its immediate neighbours, but it is still palpably the work of a giant.
Courtesy of BBC Proms and Lindsay Kemp
Comments
Post a Comment