Classical Music Discussions: Symphony #5

Cafe Society
1

Previous threads:

Symphony #1
Symphony #2
Symphony #3
Symphony #4

Finally I get to talk about what is probably my favorite symphony, the Fifth Symphony of Jean Sibelius. It would take Sibelius five years and three different re-writes to produce the final version, completed in 1919. Europe during that time was, of course, thrown into turmoil by World War I; the Bolshevik Revolution spread to Finland, and for a time, Sibelius became a prisoner in his own home. It was the composer’s love of nature that saved his sanity and provided the basis for his new symphony. The cries of the migratory swans, geese, and cranes over Lake Tuusula filled him with profound wonder and joy. From the mystical experiences of watching the swans came the swinging hymn-like theme that would dominate the finale of the Fifth Symphony.

The symphony grows like life itself rather than being squeezed into a traditional four-movement form. Out of a mysterious horn chord emerges a little flip of a motive in the high woodwinds, gradually expanding with each iteration. When the strings finally enter, it is with a buzz-like sound that becomes faster and more menacing, gradually shifting into another cycle. Instead of a traditional scherzo, Sibelius fools the listener, transforming the themes into a light-footed dance in triple time.

The second half of the symphony is much gentler, labelled “variations on a rhythm.” Sibelius builds a number of themes from a small five-note phrase on flutes and pizzicato strings. Beneath the lightness of the movement there are forces gathering: the finale’s theme is waiting to emerge. After a brief pause, the finale opens with an agitated motive in the strings that gradually give way to the Swan Hymn. It is the goal to which the entire work has been progressing. After the development of the theme, it finally returns in E-flat with a joyous pealing of brass. But Sibelius will not allow us to enjoy it for long. In one of the most startling endings in symphonic literature, the movement is capped with six loud, abrupt chords separated by oddly spaces pauses. It is a fitting end to this most unusual symphony.

There was another famous Fifth Symphony out there, but I can’t remember which it is.

2

Can we go through this thread without mentioning . . . _ ?

I like Tchaikovsky’s Fifth, myself. I put it on if I’m feeling down and it lifts me up, every time.

3

Shostakovich 5 is a winner, though as an oboist, the quality of the oboe solos will make or break the performance for me. Partly because I empathize so much with whomever is playing principle, having been there myself.

The third movement’s big solo is long, full of awkward slurs, in the upper register (well, it’s “high” for an oboist!), soft, delicate, and completely exposed. Most reviewers call it beautiful, haunting, and lonely. And lonely is exactly how you feel when playing that lick. If ever you need an example for the old adage that playing soft and slow is far more difficult that fast/loud, there you go.

I’ve had the good fortunate to play the big solo as a master class excerpt for that great pillar of the American oboe school, John Mack. It was one of the most terrifying moment of my life… well, make that two moments: “That was beautiful, Azul. In fact, it was so nice, I’d like to hear you play it again.”

What a way to fry a young student’s mind with both fear and flattery at the same time! :eek:

4

Somebody’ll mention LVB before long, no doubt, but the two #5 symphonies I love are Prokofiev’s (the 2nd movement may be my favorite of all time) and Nielsen’s, with its truly amazing, militaristic opening.

5

Mahler!!! Nobody’s mentioned Mahler!!! Even if the Adagietto wasn’t an almost-cliche, it still deserves to be one of his most popular pieces!!! :slight_smile:

6

I would really like to recommend Brahms’ Fifth symphony, but unfortunately it was never written.

Instead I’ll talk a little about Bruckner, since av8rmike took Sibelius right away.

Bruckner’s fifth sounds like he went overboard after the success of the fourth. The symphony starts with a touching pianissimo melody by the violins, accompanied by pizzicati celli. Just when you have turned up the speakers to be able to hear it, the brass booms out in a fortissimo statesque melody. I’m sure Bruckner was having a blast writing that down. After that, the movement properly starts with a boisterous theme, leading to a rather slow-moving secondary theme. All this is developed in the usual Brucknerian manner.

The slow movement starts with pizzicati strings, over which the oboe rises in a theme that is taken up by the other instruments. The piece has an oddly disjointed feel about it: melodic fragments are only loosely tied together. Two minutes into the movement the strings take the field with a few surprisingly warm bars with a full harmony which warm this string player’s heart.

The third movement is a real scherzo, starting off with a soft quick-footed run in the strings, playfully joined by the wood instruments, until the fun is spoiled by the loud-mouthed brass. This interplay is resumed in various ways for nearly 15 minutes, which basically is the whole movement.

The fourth movement starts off in the exact same way as the first, if not for the oboe who interrupts with a few irreverent notes. The strings fade away and take up the first theme of the first movement, again interrupted by the oboe, playing the same six notes. This little game is continued with the second theme. Then the strings take the notes of the oboe and play it out as the full-fledged first theme, which is developed like a fugue. The movement plays out in familiar Brucknerian ways.

When the end nears, a frenzy seams to take over the orchestra, as if they realize that the fun will be over soon. All the earlier themes return, but in a slightly higher tempo. From the final struggle the brass emerges victoriously, sounding triumphant long notes above a sea of rapid string accompaniment. A deeply satisfying finish to a rather odd work. It is as if he tried to be Mahler, but realized halfway that he couldn’t do it and better stuck with what he did best.

7

Okay, I’ll mention it. If I had to pick a Favorite Symphony, Mahler’s 5th might just be it. This is Happy Mahler.

Other 5th’s: Mendelssohn’s 5th is underrated but a joy to listen to.
Prokofiev and Shostakovich both kick ass in their 5th’s.
The 5th was when Dvorak hit his stride as a symphonist.

And has anyone written a better opening “hook” than LvB?

8

Interesting that you’d say Dvorak “hit his stride” with his Fifth. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard it before. (For the purposes of these discussions, his “From the New World” symphony shall be his ninth.) I even tried a little Googling and couldn’t find much information on it.

Mendelssohn’s “Reformation” symphony is one I’ve only recently become really familiar with, but I’d agree with the “underrated” description.

Still no takers for a play-by-play of that other symphony?

9

I’ve done a pretty fine job of killing each of my threads here, so I’ll continue the trend with this one.

On this, Carl Nielsen’s birthday, I did a bit of Googling and came up with this, a PDF of an article in The Musical Quarterly entitled, “Modernism and Closure: Nielsen’s Fifth Symphony.” Grimley embarks on an interesting analysis of the symphony, drawing some parallels with Sibelius’ Fifth and Mahler’s Fourth, but it can be a fairly intimidating read.

You know, stuff like that.

Rather than talk about Beethoven’s Fifth critically, I thought I’d share the first time I’d ever heard the whole thing. I was around 10 years old, and it was on the program of the local semi-professional orchestra, along with the “Emperor” piano concerto, #5. My mother played second clarinet (still does, in fact), and she got me a ticket for free, where I sat with a few school friends. I unfortunately don’t remember what I thought of the whole thing, but I went to nearly every concert they played until I graduated.

Anyone else have a story to share?

10

I’m not going to talk about LvB either, since I’ve heard it too often to early to have a real opinion about it.

You know, I’m a bit surprised to see Nielsen referenced so often in these threads (as well as in others). Either it is always only you who is singing the praises of this unsung composer, :wink: or he is much more popular than I’m aware of. I really have to start investigating him one of these days.

I’m with you on Sibelius, as I already implied. One of the little things I like about it is how he plays with the tempo in the finale: at the first appearance of that glorious theme there is a tiny drop in the tempo, followed by that wonderful key change which is as if the sky suddenly opens up. Then when the clock-like theme returns, again the movement slows down for a second: you almost see the gears spinning a bit slower for a moment.

11

I’m not afraid…I’ll go: I never get tired of Beethoven’s 5th. It is such a tight, beautiful gem. Not a wasted note. And the transition from the 3rd to 4th movements makes my hair stand on end, every freakin’ time.

[sidenote]In the early 70s, whilst in college, I lived in a student housing co-op that encouraged its residents to add artwork to the walls in the halls, between the room doors. I’m not the slightest bit artistic, but thought of a way to contribute: I checked the score for B’s 5th out of the campus music library, drew a series of staffs on the wall with ruler & marking pen, and wrote out the first 20 or so measures of the 3rd movement, about 8’ tall and 20’ wide.[/sidenote]

12

No, it’s pretty much all me. :slight_smile: My dad introduced me to Nielsen’s Fourth a few years ago, and once I picked up the entire cycle on CD, I was hooked. I also caught a performance of his violin concerto a year or so here in Baltimore, but you don’t see his works programmed too often. I think that, like Shostakovich, Nielsen’s works may be too unusual for conservative concert-goers.

jsc1953, that’s a pretty cool idea! Sort of an interesting way of “blurring the lines” between different art forms and trasferring from one medium to another.

Of course, I have to wonder about your “not a wasted note” comment… Have you heard the coda of the fourth movement? Compared to Sibelius, or just about anyone else, Beethoven just didn’t know when to say goodbye!

13

Codas don’t count. :slight_smile:

14

Yes. Schroeder would be proud of you.

Now that we’ve brought that up, a couple of quotes from Charles Schulz (creator of Peanuts):

15

AHEM! :dubious:

16

One last comment I have… They played a few days ago on the radio the fifth symphony of Franz Schubert, whom we really haven’t talked about at all yet. This is probably one of the best examples of a work that bridges the gap between Classical and Romantic symphonies. I particularly like how the development of the second movement effortlessly shifts the primary theme from major to minor and back again. Though largely overshadowed by Beethoven in the realm of “late Classical/early Romantic” composers, Schubert effectively comes into his own with his fifth symphony.

I also need to mention that I’ll be on vacation for the next week or so, and won’t be able to start the next thread for about two weeks. I know everybody will be on pins & needles until then… :slight_smile:

17

I just noticed an interesting opportunity to fight some Beethoven’s 5th ignorance.

When I was a kid, and I’d hear the archetypal opening motif, I always assumed it started with a triplet eighth note figure:

DA-da-da-DUMMMMMMMM.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized they were straight eighth notes with an eighth rest in front:

(rest)-da-da-da-DUMMMMMMMMMMMM.

That fermata over the held note really throws off a listener’s sense of what the opening rhythm really is.

Until the “intro” is over, anyway, when it’s more clear what the motif is.

I wonder if Beethoven knew there would be perception problems with his thematic material, lo these many generations later.

18

I’m absolutley sure he did. The scerzo of the fourth symphony is a more obvious example of this - he very conciously disguises the first beat for a good eight bars or so. And this is presumably something inherited from the tradition of Haydn.

19

Excellent symphony! At the time, it was quite the comeback for the man. Tchaikovsky is, quite honestly, my favorite composer of all time.