Symphony No.3

In the early 1980s Brahms was at the height of his fame. He was the consummate symphonist of Austria and Germany, and had many loyal admirers among professional musicians and enlightened amateurs, who contributed greatly to the widespread dissemination of his music. Foremost among them is the conductor and pianist Hans von Bülow, who considers the composer to be the third great B in the history of German music: Bach-Beethoven-Brahms. "I will win him over a part of the nation that still knows nothing about him, even though he is now 48 years old and has managed to give the world such wonderful music," says Hans von Bülow, adding in his letter to Brahms: "To transform the fire lurking in your works from hidden to visible - that is my favourite pastime! I dedicate my conducting baton entirely to you". And Brahms in turn dedicated his Third Symphony, in F major, Op. 90, to him. The work was written in the summer of 1883 in Wiesbaden, although some scholars have suggested that the composer used sketches from his earlier years in the first movement. The dedication on the first page of the score says: "To my dearly beloved Hans von Bülow, from his faithful friend. Johannes Brahms." It was premiered on December, 2^nd 1883 in Vienna under the baton of Hans Richter. But although it was a great success, the symphony was not received unreservedly. At its first performance the audience was sharply divided in two: some applauded, others hooted and booed. Harsh and critical reviews appeared in the press. That is testimony to the long-running war between Brahms' and Wagner's supporters, which intensified after Wagner's death on January, 13^th 1883. In his Symphony No 3, Brahms again returned to images of dramatic struggle. There he now provides a new solution to the genre, combining classical and romantic traditions. This symphony resembles neither his Symphony No 1 nor - his Symphony No 2, although it embodies the basic principles of the composer's style embodied in them. Its dramaturgy is original - it develops from the pathetic and disturbing, yet sufficiently bright, major first movement, to a dramatic, struggle-laden minor finale. In practice, the Symphony No 3’s ideological orientation is quite the opposite of the First, which moves from sorrow to an affirmation of joy. The reverse path - from major to minor - is generally a rare device in 19th century symphonies. The middle movements employ intermezzi typical of Brahms but uncharacteristic of his composer contemporaries - that is, the lively scherzo is absent. Compared with the first two symphonies, the middle movements of the Third swap places in terms of emotional depth and intensity: the andante is now naively soulful, the allegretto a romance full of veiled sorrow. The symphony's first movement begins with an important three-note motif that will pervade many of the symphony's themes later on. It has a specific meaning, encoded in the letter designations of the notes (F- A-F): it is the composer's adolescent motto 'free but joyful' (frei aber froh). The motif is represented in solemn chords of the brass. Here Brahms, like Schubert, executes harmonic chiaroscuro: a juxtaposition of major and the eponymous minor. The motif then underpins the main theme, beautifully dissected by the violins, and accompanies it contrapuntally. Fiery, pathetic, and emotionally unstable, the theme oscillates between major and minor, never for a moment halting its development. The two middle movements are among Brahms's most charming intermezzi. The second movement, a chamber andante, captivates with its artless simplicity and subtle grace. A lilting theme, in the spirit of a lullaby, is played by clarinets and bassoons, and then varied in other instruments. The variations are interrupted by the appearance of a new theme, again in clarinet and bassoon, but more expressive and ending with mysterious chords. At the repetition of the first theme a shadow seems to descend over it. It is shredded, subjected to elaboration. It is only in the new variations in the reprise that the original mood, untarnished by anything, returns. But the coda is again full of passionate longings and lurking forebodings. The third movement asserts a minor tonality for the first time in this major symphony. This intimate romance with an exceptionally beautiful theme, perhaps one of Brahms's best, is born of the bit-melodic genre. But it has been subtly and soulfully transformed by the composer, who, in the precise observations of one of his scholars, has the ability to remove the character of the everyday from ordinary phenomena and peer into the depths of the human soul. The use of dimensions in iamb and chorale and the unstable harmonies deprive the theme of banality, giving it a hidden tension and anxiety. As in Schubert’s works, the songfulness is emphasised by the vocal type of the exposition: cellos, violins and French horns repeat three stanzas of the theme. Three more stanzas, now in a different orchestration, are heard in the reprise. And the middle section of this three-movement form is coloured by the typical Brahmsian mood: 'a smile through tears'. Very short, it is built on the alternation of two themes, different in genre sources and orchestration, with a tinge of danceability - in the winds - and a lingering lyricism - in the strings. Echoes of these emerge once more in the coda, ending with a poignantly passionate sigh. The finale is the symphony's dramatic climax. It is here that the long-prepared storm breaks. The freely treated sonata form gives birth to a profusion of themes that are transformed in the process of development. The coda of the movement brings together the most important themes of the cycle: the three-note opening motif of the first movement, then transformed into a major, and the motif of destiny. Finally, like a rainbow after a terrible storm, in the phrase of one scholar, the flute motif from the first movement, f-as-f, appears in the flute, enveloping the symphony with a magnificent frame. It is answered by the main theme of the first movement in light F major. Along with it, the original leitmotif is invariably repeated in the basses. But at the sharpest moment of the catastrophe the storm suddenly subsides. As in the first movement, Brahms does not show the end of the struggle, the final denouement of the battle: the storm of passion has subsided, a soft light is streaming, the masculine-heroic theme with which the symphony began sounds enlightened.