A piece to win over even the fiercest Brahms sceptic
Brahms’s Symphony No2 (1877)
Anyone who thinks Brahms’s music is always dark-brown and solemn should give this symphony a try. It’s bright as day, and the springing rhythms and horn-drenched sound breathes the fresh air of the Austrian countryside where it was composed. But the piece has a melancholy side too.
Background
By 1877, when this symphony was composed, Brahms had become the linchpin of Viennese musical life. His mastery of the old forms awed the public. The previous year, he’d finished his First Symphony, after a 20-year labour, and the public had found it tough going. This one, composed during a summer holiday in a lakeside village in Austria, went down a storm.
Why it’s so great
Like Beethoven, Brahms was a master of the art of taking plain material and turning it into gold; especially useful for building big spans of music. That’s what makes his symphonies so good.
Brahms’s symphonies are gripping, but many would argue that they lack charm. That can’t, however, be said of No2. It has charm aplenty, especially in the gently dancing third movement, and the very beginning could melt even the most confirmed Brahms-sceptic.
Another thing that makes this symphony special is its very delicate emotional palette. It’s often described as “sunny”, but Brahms himself said it has a melancholy side.
It also has the most uproarious, unbuttoned finale Brahms ever wrote.
What to listen out for
This performance from the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra under Kurt Masur is from the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall: youtube. com/watch?v=lsii-jc6-uo
First movement: Allegro ma non troppo (Fast but not too fast)
Three ideas emerge like morning sun right at the beginning: a four-note cello phrase, a simple but golden horn melody, and, alternating with the horns, a rising phrase in the flutes and oboes. These will come back again and again, but first comes a radiant violin melody at 1.53, and 2.57.
At 5.55, the central section where all these ideas are developed launches off with the horn melody, now cloudy rather than sunny. A strenuous contrapuntal play with the flute/ oboe melody at 6.31 is followed by the cello phrase flung out severely by the trombones at 7.04.
The final section, where all the ideas return, begins at 9.17. At 13.40, the music seems to be preparing for a serene ending, but then the solo horn launches an excursion into strange harmonic realms.
Second movement: Adagio non troppo (Slow but not too slow)
This begins with a richly ambiguous, dark-warm cello melody, which leads to a new idea played by a solo horn at 17.53. His tune is exactly echoed at roughly nine-second intervals, first by oboes, then flutes, then cellos and basses. At 19.02, the music moves to a swaying 12/8 tempo (One-two-three Four-five six etc), with a melody that keeps moving just before the pulse. At 21.15 and 21.44, hints of the opening cello melody prepare us for the proper return of the opening section at 22.17, with the cello melody now in bassoons. A brief return of the “academic counterpoint” at 23.17 leads to a severe and almost anguished climax at 23.51. At 24.51, the wonderful coda begins with the opening melody, which accretes fascinating layers of rhythmic complication as it descends into the shadows.
Third movement: Allegretto Grazioso (moderately fast, gracefully)
This movement kicks off with an oboe melody in a gentle One-two-three time. Then comes a surprise at 27.00, with a sudden flip to a much faster section in One-two-three-four time. That scurrying melodic idea in the violins is actually a new version of the oboe melody you’ve just heard. This builds to a new idea at 27.14, but at 27.52 the original oboe melody reappears. At 28.44, the fast section returns, now in One-two-three time, with vigorous accents. The original oboe melody reappears at 29.30, before a beautiful coda winds things up from 30.38.
Fourth movement: Allegro con spirito (Fast, with spirit)
The finale begins in a mood of suppressed excitement unique in Brahms before bursting out at 32.00. From then on, it’s a constant rush of energy. A properly Brahmsian expansive melody at 33.08 leads at 34.36 to an emphatic “Scotch snap” tune. At 34.55, the opening seems to come back, but almost immediately veers off into the middle section. Listen out at 36.08 for the very first idea, now turned into a mysterious undulation. An astonishing passage (at 37.00) leads to the return of the opening section at 37.19. At 40.26, the coda is ushered in by a return of the “undulation” idea, but this is soon swept away by the final whirlwind of excitement.
Recommended recordings
For fine detail and a transparent sound, the London Philharmonic Orchestra’s recording led by Vladimir Jurowski is unbeatable. The Leipzig Gewandhaus’s recording under Riccardo Chailly on Decca is more warmly lyrical. But both are put in the shade by the impassioned recording by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra led by the greatest Brahms conductor ever, Wilhelm Furtwängler, on Warner Classics.