Leitmotif & Rubato: Dvořák - Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88

Antonin Dvorak is most well-known for his exquisite Symphony No.9 ("From a New World") - a masterpiece of such depth and other-worldliness that it has truly earned its place in the pantheon of the greatest works for symphony orchestra.

Yet as sublime as No.9 is - and I would count it as one of my two or three favorite works for orchestra - its towering reputation sometimes causes the rest of Dvorak's symphonies - all eight of them - to be overlooked or ignored.

While none of the other eight quite reaches the heights that No.9 achieved, they are a formidable corpus and Nos. 7 and 8 in particular are worthy of deep study. This blog explores Dvorak's Symphony No.8 in G major - quite possibly the "best of the rest."

Biography

Antonin Dvorak (September 8, 1841 - May 1, 1904) was a romantic-era composer born in a small town near Prague in Bohemia, part of modern-day Czech Republic (at that time, Bohemia was a province of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and would remain so until after World War I).

Dvorak was the son of a butcher and inkeeper. His family, like many Bohemian peasant families, was very musical; his father played violin and taught young Antonin, who would play for the guests at his parents' inn.

Photograph of Antonin Dvorak

However, as the oldest of his seven siblings, was expected to inherit his father's business. Meat never interested Dvorak, who continued to study music and, at the age of 16 (in 1867), left for Prague to study at the Prague Organ School. Dvorak's father was initially against the risky career choice, but Antonin's uncle offered to pay his tuition in Prague and his father finally relented.

The organ school building in Prague

The next decade and a half were difficult for Dvorak. He graduated from the organ school, but could not find a position in any churches, so instead he became a founding member of the National Theater Orchestra in Prague, filling the role of first chair viola.

While Dvorak remained extremely poor, his role in the orchestra exposed him to the broad corpus of symphonies and operas, which proved to be an excellent training ground for his future in composition. During these years, Dvorak honed his writing skills, composing orchestral pieces, string quartets, chamber music, songs, choral works and several operas.

The provisional National Theater in Prague. It was replaced

by a new building in 1881 which still stands today.

In order to make some extra money, Dvorak gave piano lessons to two daughters of Prague's goldsmith, Jan Jiri Cermak. He had met the older daughter Josefina at the Provisional Theater, where she was an actress, and the young composer soon fell in love with her. Dvorak wooed Josefina with a cycle of love songs he had written for her ("Cypresses"), but she repeatedly rejected his affections and married another man.

In what must have made for very awkward family reunions, in 1873 Dvorak instead married Josefina's younger sister, Anna. Despite the unusual circumstances, Antonin and Anna Dvorak enjoyed a very happy marriage, having a total nine children (six of whom survived infancy).

Dvorak was a very caring husband and father, and even allowed his family to vote democratically on whether they should move to New York in 1892 for him to take a position at the National Conservatory of Music.

Dvorak (far right) with Anna (far left), son Antonin

(second from left) and daughter Otilie (second

from right) and two friends in New York, 1893.

Dvorak's Musical Influences

During the long, poor period of nightly performances on viola at the theater and odd jobs during the day, fellow Czech composer Bedřich Smetana was not only a friend of Dvorak's, but a champion of his music. Smetana, Bohemia's most famous composer and frequent guest conductor at the National Theater, conducted several of Dvorak's compositions and helped establish Dvorak as a rising star.

Like Smetana, Dvorak was part of the broader nationalistic movements that were sweeping across Europe. Dvorak's musical nationalism never bubbled over into politics, but his Bohemiam background is one of the strongest factors to consider in assessing Dvorak's musical style.

John Clapham, writing in the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, described Dvorak's musical style as:

"...the fullest recreation of a national idiom with that of the symphonic tradition, absorbing folk influences and finding effective ways of using them"

Gerard Schwarz, in the Musically Speaking series, concurs:

"In much of his mature work, Dvořák drew on the rhythms and melodic inflections of Bohemian folk music to give his music an unmistakable national identity. His intention in doing so was unabashedly patriotic. The composer was fiercely loyal to his homeland and proud of its culture.

"But at the same time he was a sophisticated musician with a deep understanding of the traditions of classical composition. So while some exceptional works like his Slavonic Dances emulate the sound of folk music, his symphonies, concertos and other major works adopt Bohemian traits in a more subtle fashion, absorbing them into a framework of thoughtful thematic invention and development. These pieces speak with a Czech accent, as it were, but they are fully conversant with the procedures of orchestral composition developed by Beethoven, Brahms and other masters."

As Schwarz notes, while Dvorak's Czech "accent" is apparent throughout his music, the Bohemian-style melodies and dances that Dvorak favored were always reworked to fit within classical structures.

In 1873-4, stalwart romantic-era classicist Johannes Brahms (1833-1897) heard several Dvorak pieces and immediately began crusading on behalf of the poor Czech, who was languishing as first chair viola at his local symphony. Brahms' influence on Dvorak was profound, and the Czech's music betrays his reliance upon Brahms and Brahm's idol, Beethoven.

Dvorak considered Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky as one of his inspirations, and even visited Russia in 1890, conducting orchestras in St. Petersburg and Moscow. Slavic melodies poured from Dvorak's pen, just like they did for Tchaikovsky. But unlike Tchaikovsky, Dvorak was an excellent orchestrator and arranger, wrote masterful transitions, and had a natural talent for making age-old forms come alive.

Dvorak, like many composers, also loved birds. One friend noted:

"Dvorak had bird cages all over the house with thrushes in them. He kept the cage doors open so the thrushes flew about freely and joined in the singing."

A Song Thrush - possibly the same type that Dvorak owned

Another friend recalled:

"Master Dvorak was also a great lover of singing birds. At home and in the garden arbour at Vysoka, he used to have a great many cages with songsters, mostly thrushes, and always when they sang he would say to me: 'Do you hear them? How they sing! They are the real masters!'"

Later he told the same friend:

"You know, before I die, I shall write a fine bird symphony and I shall put my very best into it!"

Unfortunately, Dvorak never did write his "bird symphony", though bird-like elements are present in many of his works, including his Symphony No.8.

Composition

The summer of 1889, spent in his country home amid his favorite avian friends - both wild and domestic - turned out to be a very successful one. While finishing his Piano Quartet, Op. 87, Dvorak wrote to his friend Alois Gobl:

"It's going unexpectedly easily and the melodies simply pour out of me."

This momentum carried through the rest of the summer. After completing the Quartet, Dvorak dove into his 8th symphony. It had been four years since he had written his seventh, but the time spent on other works did not dull Dvorak's creative sensibilities. On the contrary, Dvorak began his 8th symphony on August 26.

Dvorak outlined his desires for the eight symphony when he wrote to a friend about:

"...a work different from my other symphonies, with individual thoughts worked out in a new way."

Within two weeks, he had finished the first movement. One week later, he had finished the second movement. The third and fourth movements only took him a matter of days. Within three weeks, Dvorak had written his entire symphony.

The first-page autograph of Symphony No.8

Orchestration took another three weeks of effort, and on November 8, 1889, Dvorak's latest symphony was ready for performance and publication. Dvorak premiered the symphony on February 2, 1890, conducting the Prague National Theater Orchestra.

Over the next 18 months, Dvorak repeatedly used his Symphony No.8 as a calling card. When he was elected as a Member of the Franz Josef Academy for Science, Literature and Art in Prague, he chose this symphony to be played as part of the award ceremony. On June 16, 1891, Dvorak received an honorary Doctorate of Music from Cambridge and again he chose the symphony to accompany his award.

The Problem of Numbering
Today, we know this symphony as No. 8, but when it was published, Novello listed it as Dvorak's Symphony No.4.

Why this difference? Up to this point, Dvorak had written seven other symphonies, but only three of them - Nos. 6, 7 and 5 in that order - had been published.

To make it more confusing, Dvorak - who had his own numbering system based on his own intimate knowledge of what he had written, called it No. 7.

Why did Dvorak call it No. 7 when he knew that he had written eight? He probably assumed that one of his early symphonies had been lost to history after it had been misplaced. This symphony was found after Dvorak's death, adding to the confusion.

The "English" Symphony?
Over the last century, Dvorak's Symphony No.8 has acquired a nickname: "English". While this nickname might be considered a poetic bookend to his "New World" symphony by some, the real story is much less interesting.

Dvorak did not travel to England for inspiration; he did not incorporate any English melodies or songs; the symphony was not written for or dedicated to any English composers. Instead, Dvorak switched publishing companies from the German publisher Simrock to the English publisher Novello. This is the sole reason for the misnomer of "English".

Sidebar: The Ethics of Publication
At the time, Dvorak's jump between publishers was somewhat morally ambiguous. Dvorak was a poor composer when Brahms first recommended him to his own publisher Simrock. On December 12, 1877, Brahms wrote to Simrock, saying:

"I have been receiving a lot of pleasure for several years past from the work of Anton Dvorák of Prague. This year he has sent in, among other things, some "Duets for 2 Sopranos with Pianoforte" (the Moravian Duets Op.32), which seem to me to be quite charming, and practical for publication...Dvorák has written all kinds of things, operas (Czech), symphonies, quartets, piano pieces. He is certainly a very talented fellow. And incidentally, poor! I beg you to consider that! The duets will show you what I mean and might 'sell well'..."

How about that! Brahms, who was perhaps the most notorious and best-selling composer of his day, not only introduced Dvorak to his publisher but explicitly asked for Dvorak to be compensated well.

It was the beginning of a very lucrative partnership for both Simrock and Dvorak. At Simrock's request, Dvorak wrote a series of Slavonic Dances for four-hand piano (a popular style of making music in the home). These sold so well that Simrock later requested that Dvorak orchestrate them, as he had done for some of Brahms' Hungarian Dances. Simrock also requested a second set of Slavonic Dances eight years after the first was published. The orchestrated versions of these Slavonic Dances are what we hear most often today.

Over the next ten years, Dvorak went from a poor violist and little-known composer to a composer with world-wide fame and the bank account to prove it.

When Dvorak brought Simrock his Symphony No.7, they paid 3000 marks for it. But perhaps it did not sell well, or perhaps Simrock decided that their audience demanded smaller-scale works such as the Slavonic Dances. When Dvorak brought Simrock his 8th symphony, Simrock offered him an insulting 1000 marks. Dvorak refused the lowball offer and instead took his symphony with him to England.

Because Dvorak's religious cantata Stabat Mater was a best-seller in England, the publishing company Novello decided to pay top dollar (quid?) for publishing rights. Unlike Haydn and Beethoven, Dvorak did not publish the same piece through multiple publishers, but he did knowingly go behind Simrock's proverbial back.

There are two other factors that led to Dvorak's frustration with Simrock. First, Dvorak was a composer of grand ambition; he saw himself as in the same category of Beethoven and Brahms - a serious composer who wrote symphonies, operas, and other large-scale works. Simrock desired that Dvorak stick to short, simple, popular pieces. As Michael Steinberg writes:

"Understandably, therefore, and in full awareness of the value of Simrock's initial support, he resented a publisher who showed some reserve about endorsing his most ambitious undertakings."

Secondly, Simrock insisted that all of Dvorak's publications be printed with his name as the German Anton Dvorak, not the Czech Antonin. Given his national pride - his music is full of Bohemian melodies and songs - this irked Dvorak to no end. After some time, Simrock agreed to compromise by listing Dvorak's name as "Ant. Dvorak".

In the end, Dvorak decided his best course would be to work simultaneously with two publication houses, using one for shorter pieces and the other for his masterworks. Is this unethical? I will leave the final judgment up to the reader.

Recording

At long last, it's time to listen to the symphony itself! I have chosen to review Dvorak's Symphony No.8 using the acclaimed 1963 recording of the London Symphony Orchestra as conducted by István Kertész.

This recording does everything right in my opinion - the tempos are spot on, the soloists perform admirably, the orchestra plays with passion and eloquence, and the recorded sound (provided by legendary Decca engineer Kenneth Wilkinson) is rich and realistic. It is very easy for the listener to get caught up in the beauty of Dvorak's composition.

Instrumentation, form and overview

2 flutes (one doubling piccolo), 2 oboes (one doubling English horn), 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani and strings.

Allegro con brio
Adagio
Allegreto grazioso; molto vivace
Allegro ma non troppo

Dvorak's 8th symphony owes a large debt to Brahms' Symphonies No. 2 and 3, and certain parts - particularly the second movement - demonstrate strong analogies to Beethoven's Symphony No. 3 ("Eroica").

And yet, despite these strong, classically-minded connections, Hermann Kretschmar, an early analyst of Dvorak's work, claimed that this was not even a true symphony, as the themes of the first movement don't develop according to the symphonic norm; he thought it was more of a symphonic poem, or a Slavonic rhapsody.

Symphony No. 8 is very different in feel to Symphony No. 7 written four years previously. While No. 7 is famously dark and somber, No. 8 is bright and optimistic. Even the second movement funeral march is transformed into something less than ominous.

The key in which Dvorak sets the symphony - G major - is similarly a bright, cheerful key that was largely associated with pastoral scenes and folk music. Dvorak's symphony was the first in G major by any composer of renown since Haydn.

Perhaps the key choice was a signal to pay attention to all of the folk music themes woven throughout the symphony? Or perhaps it was meant to evoke the countryside in which Dvorak composed the symphony, as alluded to by all of the bird-like flute passages?

The next composer to use G major for a symphony was Austrian composer Gustav Mahler, who wrote his Symphony No.4 in G major - a work with similar pastoral overtones - ten years after Dvorak completed his.

Movement 1: Allego con brio

Dvorak's Symphony No. 8 in G major opens in the key of G major, of course.

Actually, it doesn't! The symphony opens in G minor. Confused? Don't worry. Dvorak has his reasons, which we will get to shortly.

This first movement follows a modified sonata form with two primary themes which are introduced in the exposition, developed, and then repeated in the recapitulation. But after Dvorak had finished an early sketch of how he wanted to structure this first movement, a third theme entered his head.

Instead of rewriting the entire movement, he used this new theme as a signpost of sorts, marking the beginning of each of the three main sections. Unlike the other themes, it is never significantly developed or modulated; the only change is one of orchestration during the recapitulation.

Let's take a closer look at how Dvorak accomplished this. As always, the time markings I use refer to the recording I've chosen: in this case, István Kertész conducting the London Symphony Orchestra.

Exposition (0:00 - 4:04)
Dvorak opens the movement (0:00) with a soft, brooding chorale-like theme carried by cellos and the lower-registered wind instruments (clarinets and bassoons). It is a hauntingly beautiful melody but, like many minor-toned melodies, carries a solemn gravitas that is unexpected for a major-key symphony.

So why did Dvorak begin in a minor key? Most likely because of the imagery that is evoked when this chorale theme transitions into Theme 1 (0:40), a bird-like melody played by a solo flute in the nominal key of G major.

This flute theme has the same emotive effect of the first few rays of sunshine after a long, cold night. Out of something solemn and heavy comes forth a melody full of light and warmth. It is easy to imagine Dvorak waking up early to watch the sun rise and listen to his beloved thrushes usher in a new day, finding inspiration for this theme in the process.

Sidebar: The Flute in Pastoral Music
This was not the first time that a flute was used to represent birds singing at the break of dawn. Just about anyone who has watched Saturday morning cartoons will be familiar with these next two examples.

The first example is a middle section from the Overture to the opera William Tell, written in 1829 by Gioachino Rossini, sixty years before Dvorak wrote his 8th symphony.

Just like Dvorak's symphony, this section of the Overture was penned in G major and was meant to evoke the sounds and sights of the countryside. Also like in Dvorak's bird theme, a flute carries the primary melody along with an English horn. (Rossini's theme starts with the horn, and then continues with the flute; Dvorak first opens with the flute, but uses an English horn to revisit the bird theme during the recapitulation.)

The second example is a selection from Edvard Grieg's incidental music for Peer Gynt written in 1875, parts of which were made into two instrumental suites in 1888 and 1891. This selection was titled "Morning Mood" by Grieg and is one of his most well-known works.

Just like Rossini's William Tell Overture and Dvorak's symphony, this morning pastoral music is carried by the flute and - in this case - an oboe (an English horn is essentially an oboe pitched five notes lower; they have very similar tone).

Exposition (0:00 - 4:04), continued
The sudden shift between G minor and G major allows Dvorak to set a distinctly pastoral scene, but dawn quickly transitions into the hustle and bustle of a waking countryside as the orchestra crescendos. While the rest of the orchestra catches its breath, the cellos pick up a new but related theme (1:20) - we'll call it Theme 1b - before the joining the entire orchestra in playing a loud, full version of the bird theme - which we will rename Theme 1a.

These seemingly abrupt transitions - especially the tonal shift from minor to major - were characteristic of the Bohemian folk music that Dvorak and his father played for their guests at the inn.

This entire first movement is exceptionally rich in melodic ideas. As Leos Janacek said of this symphony:

"You've scarcely got to know one figure before a second one beckons with a friendly nod, so you're in a state of constant but pleasurable excitement."

Having introduced his Theme 1, consisting of two parts but with emphasis on the Theme 1a "bird song", Dvorak transitions (2:10) into Theme 2 with additional usage of the flutes to mimic the sound of birds chirping. I told you he was a bird lover!

Theme 2 (2:33) is the first return to minor tonality since the opening chorale theme, and Dvorak sets in in the closely-related B minor. The march-like melody is carried by the woodwinds with strings playing arpeggios in support. It, too, is short-lived.

Less than a minute after introducing Theme 2, Dvorak begins a rousing coda (3:09) complete with striking trumpet counterpoint as the orchestra reaches a level of fullness and volume greater than anything yet attained.

As the orchestra decrescendos into the development section, Dvorak moves from B major to B minor - another folk music inspired abrupt tonal shift - and into dominant D major, setting up a return to the parallel tonic of G minor.

Development (4:04 - 6:55)
As noted above, Dvorak heralds the beginning of the development section by repeating the G minor "Chorale Theme" (4:04) with cellos and low woodwinds.

If a trained musician familiar with sonata form was listening to this movement, she might expect Dvorak to repeat Themes 1 and 2, as is traditional. Dvorak, however, eschews this formality and instead demonstrates his mastery of compositional technique.

He begins with what sounds like a repeated exposition of the bird-like Theme 1a on solo flute (4:44), but slips in an F natural in the orchestral accompaniment. This subtly turns the G major key into a G major dominant 7th.

Unlike a normal G major chord, the G major dominant 7th creates tension; this tension desires to be resolved to C major. But instead, Dvorak moves to an A-flat major dominant 7th before landing on F major, which itself proves to be only a temporary landing spot. As Robert Greenberg claims in his The Great Courses lecture set "Symphonic Masterworks", "it's off to the developmental races!"

Eventually, the orchestra lands in F-sharp major - a key entirely unrelated to any of the keys used thus far - and begins development of Theme 1b (5:35). Slowly the orchestra builds dark momentum, landing on E minor momentarily and then a tension-filled A-flat diminished 7th.

Dvorak has built tension. He has the entire orchestra - especially the strings - at fever pitch. How will he resolve this development?

Recapitulation (6:55 - 10:05)
I gave you the answer at the beginning of this discussion: with the chorale theme heard at the start of the movement (6:55). But unlike its previous two iterations, this is no subdued, somber, cello-driven theme; it enters like thunder and lightning at the apex of a storm!

This is one of my favorite moments in the entire symphony. The strings sweep up and down a G minor scale with hurricane-like intensity while the trumpets - not cellos - carry the now furious melody on top of thunderous chordal punctuations played by the rest of the brass section.

This fever pitch of intensity can only be sustained for a short time and, like a thunderstorm on a summer afternoon, soon gives way to the sun as the orchestra lands not on G minor, but G major. Witness once again the striking juxtaposition between parallel major and minor keys.

Soon (7:26) the birds begin to come out again. But this time, after the storm, Theme 1a is heard first on an English horn. This poor horn player has been sitting in the woodwind section quietly for the first 7+ minutes, waiting silently for the spotlight to shine on him, and after all of that, his solo only lasts three bars before the melody moves to the clarinet and, finally, back to the flute. Having had his four seconds of fame, the horn player will now sit silently for the rest of the final half hour of the performance.

When my wife and I attended the March 14, 2014 performance of this symphony by the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra, I pointed out the English horn player and wondered aloud to my wife why he was just sitting there even when the rest of the orchestra was playing furiously. Well now I know!

When Theme 2 returns (8:10), this time in G minor, the storm threatens to make a comeback. But, in the end, light conquers darkness and momentum carries the orchestra into the final coda (8:43) which references the coda at the end of the development section, complete with the same trumpet counter-melodies. The movement ends on a happy note in G major.

Movement 2: Adagio

Major tonality won the battle in the first movement - which opened in G minor but closed in G major - but the war continues in Dvorak's second movement. It opens with a funeral march but soon takes on a schizophrenic character, alternating between the somber funeral march and a cheerful, bird-like song.

Throughout these shifts, Dvorak's orchestration is particularly vivid and effective, and much sparser than in Dvorak's earlier slow movements. The structure is a loose A-B-A'-B' form with an introduction and coda, where the A section is the funeral march and B sounds like a Bohemian folk song.

Introduction (0:00 - 0:40)
Dvorak based this adagio loosely on the second movement of Beethoven's Symphony No. 3 ("Eroica"). Both are funeral marches set in C minor. Dvorak, however, reverses the order of harmonic progression, starting in E-flat major and moving to C minor whereas Beethoven started in C minor and moved to E-flat major.

This introduction is carried by the strings with three episodes of ascending and descending scales (0:00).
The first episode ascends into an A-flat major chord before descending onto an E-flat major chord.
The second episode shifts the first episode down a minor third, ascending into an F minor chord (relative minor of A-flat major) and descending into a C minor (relative minor of E-flat major).
The third episode turns the C minor into an A-flat major before ascending to D-flat major and descending back to B-flat minor and coming to rest on the original A-flat major

Out of this third episode, Dvorak moves immediately to a C minor six-four chord, setting up the cadence (Cm - G7 - Cm) which ends this introduction section.

A - Funeral March (0:40 - 2:53)
The primary theme of the funeral march begins immediately (0:40) as Dvorak alternates between yet another bird-like flute melody in C major and a sonorous clarinet on top of a dense string accompaniment.

You can be forgiven for thinking that this is certainly not the gravest (no pun intended) funeral march that you've ever heard! Compare the feeling of this funeral march to Beethoven's funeral march from his Symphony No. 3 ("Eroica"), which served as inspiration for Dvorak:

Dvorak's funeral march, like Beethoven's, is nominally in C minor. But whereas Beethoven's score remains in C minor, Dvorak's flutes and clarinets are playing notes from the C major scale! It's almost as if Dvorak is writing the funeral march for someone he didn't like, and cannot decide whether to rejoice or mourn.

This bipolar episode is capped off with the modal cadence of C major → B-flat minor → C major. It is this unusual cadence (a normal cadence would be C → G7 → C) that provides the only minor tonality in this theme. This type of cadence is very common in folk music.

Before repeating the sequence, Dvorak transposes briefly to F major, and then E-flat major, repeating the flute and clarinet theme in this new key, the relative major of C minor.

After some shimmering violin intervals, timpani rolls lead the orchestra back into the introduction theme (2:00), set again in C minor.

B - Folk Song (2:53 - 5:13)
Out of this somber episode, Dvorak transitions abruptly into a beautiful melody reminiscent of Czech folk music (2:53). Are you seeing a trend? Dvorak's Czech "accent", as Gerard Schwarz described, is almost omnipresent in this symphony. Yet, contrary to many hypotheses, it appears that Dvorak wrote all of these folk melodies himself as no direct links have been discovered.

Flute and oboe carry the happy C major theme on top of a fully three-dimensional accompaniment consisting of pizzicato eighth notes on the cellos and double basses, chordal undertones played by the violas, clarinets, bassoons and French horns; and descending staccato sixteenth notes on the violins.

For the repeat of the phrase, a solo violin steals the melody from the woodwinds, who in turn play the violin's descending notes. The reversal is magical and constitutes one of my favorite moments of this movement.

Dvorak moves this melody into a short transition stage (3:58) with the entire orchestra playing emphatically on top of more descending sixteenth notes, this time played by the cellos and double basses. Soon the violas and violins join the cellos for these scales as the folk song reaches its climax. A coda follows (4:38) with the brass section proudly carrying the melody before the music suddenly drops off into a soft string part which leads back into the A section.

A' - Funeral March (5:13 - 7:43)
The funeral march begins (5:13) just as it did early, with flutes and oboes playing the C major / B-flat minor modal cadences.

But instead of building momentum into the folk song, Dvorak decides to enter a short developmental episode (6:23) in which he moves from B minor diminished → C minor diminished → B minor before resting on G major dominant 7th and resolving back into C major for the start of the B' section.

B' - Folk Song (7:43 - 8:35)
Dvorak now treats his audience to the same folk song melody, but this time played not by flutes and oboes, nor by solo violin, but by the entire string section as the woodwinds carry the descending C major scales.

Coda (8:35 - 9:59)
Dvorak draws this second movement to a close (8:35) with light strings before repeating the introductory theme - but this time in C major instead of C minor. The ironic funeral march concludes with one final C major chord. For the second time, major tonality wins out over minor tonality in the end.

Movement 3: Allegreto grazioso; molto vivace

The third movement is shorter than the other movements (6 minutes vs. 9-10 minutes) and takes the form of a waltz and trio in ternary (ABA) form.

Dvorak mixes and matches influences in his construction of this movement. He steals his tempo markings - Allegreto grazioso means "quick and graceful" - from Brahms, who used it for his third movements in his first (1876) and second (1877) symphonies - works with which Dvorak certainly would have been familiar. And, like most post-classical symphony composers, he uses a derivative of minuet and trio form for his structure.

A Short History of Minuet and Trio Form
The minuet is a French aristocratic dance which was popularized by King Louis XIV in the mid-1600s. Often minuets were turned into three-part ABA works by adding a "trio" between repeating sections of the minuet. This trio was originally a true trio (a part played by three instruments) but even as arrangements grew, the term trio was retained.

During the classical era, this form was so frequently used by Haydn and Mozart as the third movement in their symphonies (who wrote at least 106 and 38 of them respectively), string quartets (68 and 23 respectively) and sonatas (Haydn wrote 62 for piano; Mozart wrote 18 for piano and 36 for violin) that it became part of the standard four-movement model.

Ludwig van Beethoven, always a rebel, decided to replace the minuet with a scherzo (literally "joke" in Italian). Unlike the light and stately minuet, , Beethoven's scherzi were fast and furious. Perhaps Beethoven adopted the term "scherzo" because the image of nobility trying to dance to such a pace made him laugh. Who knows what went on in Beethoven's head.

Beethoven's scherzi kept the traditional ternary ABA form and might just as well be called "Scherzo and Trio" (although Beethoven never referred to them that way). Brahms largely followed Beethoven's lead, but the third movements of his first three symphonies got slower and slower until his Symphony No. 3 slow movement was something altogether different from both Haydn's minuets and Beethoven's scherzi. As Dvorak uses a waltz instead of a minuet or scherzo, it's very possible that Dvorak took his inspiration from Brahms.

A - Waltz (0:00 - 1:41)
The waltz opens (0:00) with lush violins carrying the G minor melody, flowing freely on top of a complex lower-register accompaniment that is not the traditional "down-up-up" movement but nonetheless creates a similar feel. As Robert Greenberg exclaims:

"Dang, that's fine! Make room, Johann Strauss father and son: when Antonin Dvorak of Prague writes a waltz, it's going to be as good as anything written there in Vienna!"

This A section can itself be broken into two components: A1 and A2. This first sweeping string section is A1. Immediately following that (0:26) is the A2 section carried alternately by woodwinds and strings as the entire orchestra slowly descends in volume, pitch and mood.

The strings provide a short transition out of this musical basement and back into A1 (0:50), but this time the melody is carried by the woodwinds while the violins sing their counterpoint. Soon the A2 section returns (1:14) and again the orchestra slowly settles down, finally resting on a low G minor.

B - Trio (1:41 - 3:46)
From the depths of G minor, Dvorak singles out the oboes to lead into a happy little trio section. As in the two previous movement, Dvorak continues the battle between major in minor tonality. Unlike the A section waltz, which is written in G minor, the B section trio modulates to the parallel key of G major.

This lovely little trio sounds like a Czech dance, complete with lots of cross rhythms. The melody, carried by the oboe on top of an arrangement of strings, is actually stolen from another of Dvorak's works: his 1874 comic opera The Stubborn Lovers - specifically Tonik's aria "Such youth in a girl, such dotage in a man."

As with the A section waltz, the B section trio itself can be broken down into two groups: B1 (the trio theme on oboes), and B2 (the response to the trio theme carried by the string section). Dvorak follows a B1-B2-B1-B2-B1 format and, during the final B1 section, takes the melody away from the Oboes and gives it back to the strings.

The Trio concludes as the woodwinds softly move the orchestra back into G minor in preparation for the return of the A section waltz.

A' - Waltz (3:46 - 5:27)
Little changes for the return to the A section waltz. As before, the waltz follows an A1-A2-A1-A2 scheme.

Coda (5:27 - 6:01)
The coda (5:27) reintroduces the trio theme, but it is now sped up - the tempo changes to molto vivace, which means "very lively" - and the time signature changes from triple-metered 3/8 into duple-metered 2/4. This nifty little trick was copied from Brahms, who transformed his 2nd symphony "scherzo and trio" in exactly the same way.

As in the trio section, the key transposes back to G major to close the movement. This is now the third straight movement in which Dvorak starts in a minor key, moves back and forth between the minor key and its parallel major, and then finishes in the major key.

Movement 4: Allegro ma non troppo

By the time the fourth movement rolls around, Dvorak has finished with the incessant battle between minor and major. In the end, major tonality has won the day. Dvorak closes his symphony with a theme and variations in G major, ending the harmonic debate once and for all.

Fanfare Introduction (0:00 - 0:26)
During a rehearsal of the last movement, conductor Rafael Kubelik declared:

"Gentlemen, in Bohemia the trumpets never call to battle - they always call to dance!"

This is how Dvorak opens the final movement to his 8th symphony - with a call to dance from the trumpets. One might think that this is only an introduction and has no relevance to the rest of the movement, but this is false! For the details, keep reading.

Theme (0:26 - 1:11)
The theme is slow and stately and carried by the cellos over an accompaniment of viola, tuba and pizzicato double bass. It's a relatively simple theme, as many themes are when set in a theme-and-variations format.

Variation 1 (1:11 - 1:50)
The first variation builds on the theme by adding fortissimo (ff; literally "very loud") violins on top of the cellos. The effect is somewhat jarring, but the tension created between the two voices - violins and violas on top, cellos, double basses and bassoons on the bottom - create a tension that pushes the variation along.

Variation 2 (1:50 - 2:58)
And now this is Dvorak on speed! The tempo kicks up, the entire orchestra begins playing rapidly and loudly, the horns do their "waaaah" thing - it's madness.

And then, out of the blue, there's a soft middle section with flute. It's still played at a quick tempo, but provides a stark contrast in arrangement. It's back to the speed section once more before the variation ends.

Variation 3 (2:58 - 4:54)
The full orchestra stays engaged throughout this variation which serves as the developmental heart of the entire movement. At nearly two minutes in length, it is also the longest of the seven variations, almost twice as long as the second longest variation.

Unlike the other variations, this third variation can almost be subdivided into variations of its own.

2:58 - The variation begins with a dark and quick, but not frantic version of the theme in Cm carried by the oboes and clarinets (mezzopiano) underscored by a pulsating alto section of trombones and violas (both marked piano) and cellos, double-basses and timpani (all marked pianissimo).
3:09 - Soon the flute takes over and begins modulating the theme chromatically down form C minor to B minor and then B-flat minor. Underscoring the flute are violins and cellos playing arpeggiated chords.
3:18 - Without any warning, all of the strings (playing tremolando) and woodwinds rush in on an F major chord, moving quickly through a F major → B-flat minor → F major dominant 7th sequence before scattering, modulating, and landing on a G major, the dominant chord of the variation (and also the tonic chord of the movement).
3:28 - The main theme in C minor returns in force with the flute joining the rest of the winds in carrying the melody and the string section providing frenzied movement underneath. Compared to the more subtle opening of this variation (2:58), the composer has marked fortissimo everywhere!
3:39 - Soon the brass instruments join in the fun, modulating down just as the flute did before as the rest of the orchestra sways back and forth madly.
3:49 - Less abruptly this time, the strings sweep back in and begin to modulate back up to F major.
3:56 - Dvorak enters a short development section with participation from every section of the orchestra
4:22 - Coming out of this development, the trumpets interrupt with the same fanfare from the beginning of the movement. As the trumpets have been relatively quiet throughout the movement ever since that introduction, the effect on the listener is the same as seeing the sun beaming through the clouds at the tail end of a storm. Slowly the orchestra settles down again, ready to lead into variation #4.

An entirely enjoyable variation; easily my favorite section in the fourth movement, and one of my favorite movements in the entire symphony.

Variation 4 (4:54 - 5:45)
This variation is virtually the same as theme and serves as a type of "reset button" after the histrionics of the previous variation.

Variation 5 (5:45 - 6:35)
Just as variation #1 added dimension to the theme, so variation #5 adds dimension to variation #4. Here Dvorak also features the full string section, but slower, smoother and softer than in variation #1.

Variation 6 (6:35 - 7:23)
Dvorak continues with his pattern of calm and collected during this variation, in which a solo clarinet carries the melody on top of a string accompaniment.

Variation 7 (7:23 - 8:15)
Yet another subdued variation! This is now four variations that Dvorak has used to recover from the crazy developmental variation #3. Soft strings lead to a delicate interweaving of the strings and winds.

Coda (8:15 - 9:01)
And just like that, Dvorak wakes up from his nap and begins thrashing about again! The coda takes on the same feel as variation #2, with the strings leading the rest of the orchestra on one final frenzied flight through the main theme.

At the tail end of the coda, the entire orchestra joins together for sweeping chromatic scales down and up then down and up again, before - who else? - the trumpets make one final appearance, the curtains begin to close, and the symphony makes one final bow before leaving the last G major chord hanging in ambiance of the symphony hall to rapturous audience applause.

Coda: Further Listening

Throughout this blog, I have made several references to Beethoven's third symphony (particularly movement 2) and Brahms' second and third symphonies (particularly movement 3). As Peter Laki describes:

"Dvorák's handling of form is indebted to Beethoven and Brahms, but he filled out the form with melodies of an unmistakably Czech flavor and a joviality few composers at the time possessed. The variations vary widely in character: some are slower and some are faster in tempo, some are soft (such as the virtuosic one for solo flute), and some are noisy; most are in the major mode, though the central one, reminiscent of a village band, is in the minor. The music is always cheerful and optimistic."

If you would like to listen to those, a playlist has been provided below.

Leitmotif & Rubato

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Dvořák - Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88

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