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Mozarteumorchester Salzburg
Ivor Bolton, Dirigent

Three of Joseph Haydn’s symphonies which stand out because of their form and concept have been collected by Ivor Bolton and the Mozarteumorchester Salzburg on their new CD.
Symphony No. 60 “Il distratto” deviates from the four-movement form in favour of a looser sixmovement sequence. Corresponding to the title “Der Zerstreute“ (The Scatterbrain) (named after the main character of a contemporary theatrical comedy) Haydn here serves up a particularly high density of musical surprises and comic moments, up to the grand pause in the last movement in which the violins tune their ‘out of tune’ G strings a whole tone higher.
Kettledrums and trumpets are used in Symphony No.88, however not, as to be expected, in the opening Allegro but only - completely contrary to every contemporary expectation – in the slow second movement. “The wonder”, the sobriquet for Symphony No.96, first came about apparently during a performance of Symphony No.102 (if the story is true, a chandelier fell to the floor, inexplicably without injuring any of the audience), but also here a richness of ideas and the composer’s joy in experimentation can be found, which even in Haydn’s colourful oeuvre are unusual.

The greatest art always retains its vigor

What standing does symphonic composer Joseph Haydn hold today? To answer this question initially, it is sufficient to imagine the history of Western art music without him. Many genres would have developed differently – not only the symphony, but also the string quartet, solo concerto, piano trio and piano sonata as well as the mass and oratorio. The only area which would not have been quite so affected is opera. But Mozart and Beethoven would not have been possible – at least as we know them today. Haydn renewed the most important genres of instrumental and sacred music and created the stylistic and technical foundation for coming generations. Without Haydn no Beethoven; without Beethoven no Wagner, Bruckner or Brahms. Without Wagner no modern music as we know and take for granted today.

Haydn passed down 106 symphonies to us. Some of these – including the three symphonies on this recording – have always been popular. Especially the last 23 of his symphonies, i.e. from No. 82 onwards (the six Paris and twelve London symphonies as well as those in between), have always captivated listeners. In addition, it is primarily some of his ‘Sturm und Drang’ symphonies from the years between 1765 and 1772 that have never gone out of style. This was a period in which Haydn’s symphonic style became very exciting, dense and dramatic. He wrote over one third of his minor-key symphonies during this period as well: No. 39 in G Minor, No. 44 in E Minor (‘Trauersymphonie’), No. 45 in F-sharp Minor, (‘Farewell Symphony’), No. 49 in F Minor (‘La Passione’) – all truly minor-key symphonies, not ones that begin in minor and end with a major finale such as No. 95.

This ‘Sturm und Drang’ period is one of the most enthralling as well as demanding in Haydn’s artistic life. But his creativity was not independent – as is often imagined today, in this age of “subsidy-aesthetics” that has largely uncoupled itself from audience needs and that likes to condemn deviations from the primacy of absolute “artistic freedom”. Later in life, after his success in London, Haydn achieved the freedom to compose as he wished (which in no way meant that he did not heed the effect and success of his works), but before this, he was always dependent on the goodwill of his employer, Prince Esterházy (whose service he entered in 1766). And Prince Esterházy was more interested in pleasantry than posterity would have liked. This means that as of 1774, Haydn was obligated to adapt to the superficial needs of the court for glamorous diversion. In the following years, his symphonic production suffered considerably under these constraints – albeit at the highest level. Instead of symphonies, he turned increasingly to opera, which was admittedly a genre to which he was less suited. At the same time, however, he increasingly began to achieve international success.

Symphony No. 60, (‘Il Distratto’), was written at the beginning of this period. It was composed in 1774 as theater music for the five-act comedy ‘Der Zerstreute’, which was a translation of Jean-François Regnard’s (1655–1709) ‘Le Distrait’. This work is one of Haydn’s most original and refreshing creations of that time. It is exceptional enough that the symphony has six movements chock-full of surprises. On three occasions in the first movement, the music remains standing on one tone and then subsides in a pianissimo: before the end of the exposition, in the transition to the recapitulation and shortly before the movement ends. The following Andante is full of powerful unison passages that occur in the entire symphony – like the witty and folk-music-like Hungarian themes in the Menuett, Presto and final Prestissimo. The wonderful Adagio is set as an aria with accompaniment. It includes a powerful fanfare interlude and a completely surprising, laconic allegro ending. The wealth of brilliant, unpredictable ideas is simply amazing! A more entertaining and eventful symphony is hardly imaginable.

In 1784, Haydn was commissioned by the director of the ‘Concerts de la Loge Olympique’ in Paris to write six symphonies. This is the beginning of his last period of symphonic creativity, which was crowned by success in the 1790s by the twelve London Symphonies and the ‘Oxford Symphony’. Between the Paris and London works, Haydn composed two symphonic pairs. In 1787, numbers 88 and 89 were written for Johan Tost, who had previously been a violinist in the Esterházy orchestra under Haydn and was now a successful businessman in Vienna. In 1788 he wrote numbers 90 and 91 for Claude- François-Marie Rigoley, Comte d’Ogny, one of the persons who had commissioned the Paris Symphonies. The Symphony No. 88 in G Major has established itself in concert life as one of Haydn’s best-loved symphonies – and this for the best reasons. Of course, it has conspicuous features like the odd drone accompaniment in the trio of the minuet, which is why it is occasionally nicknamed ‘with the bagpipe’. Johannes Brahms, commenting on the Largo, said that he hoped his Ninth Symphony would sound like this music (easily said when he didn’t even write a fifth symphony). With its wonderfully distinguished melodiousness and sunny calm, the magic economy of its accompanying figures, the clear but unusual proportions of the threephase fortissimo interjections (announcementfulfillment- reminiscence) that provide contrast in the movement, this Largo is a marvel of fragile balance and noble intimacy. The first movement unleashes immense drive by dynamically coupling the cheerful main theme with its impatiently persistent counterpoint. The brilliant contrapuntal pileup at the climax of the development is organically derived from this beginning. But as if this weren’t enough, in the final Rondo, Haydn further indulges his enjoyment of the contrapuntal “tour de force” (H.C.R. Landon) by tangling the theme into a dizzying close canon (at the quarter note). This Symphony No. 88 is truly a magnificent specimen of the classical symphony – and for good reason the favorite Haydn symphony of any number of major conductors such as Wilhelm Furtwängler or Fritz Reiner.

Concerning Symphony No. 96, which is among the first four London Symphonies and was written in 1791, a legend developed which led to the work’s nickname ‘The Miracle’. During the performance, the audience was pushing its way forwards to reach Haydn, who was at the front of the hall, when a huge chandelier loosened from the ceiling and fell. But because no one was sitting there any longer, there were no casualties. This ‘miracle’ story actually did take place, not during a performance of the 96th symphony, however, but while the 102nd symphony was being played. Consequently, it is this symphony that should actually have a claim to this nickname. (Ironically, it is the only one with no name. Suggestion: ‘The Secret Miracle’!). Symphony No. 96 is one of those twelve testimonies to Haydn’s serene mastery that are numbered among the greatest classical symphonic works. Just like both other symphonies on this recording, it has a slow introduction in which Haydn cultivates the art of almost entirely neutral preparation – an open proclamation, so to speak. The motivic web in the allegro is even denser than before; the ‘composed rests’ also fulfill their (sometimes modulatory) function more perfectly than ever and the essence of the sonata form – the drama of the contradictory – unfolds more deeply in the idiosyncratic contours of the second theme. The Andante supremely combines decisiveness and perfect grace. The dramatically moving middle section in G Minor reveals the gaiety of an alternative world. After a fermata, this mood is continued, now solistically, in a final section that seemingly transplants the listener into the world of the solo concerto. The minuets of Haydn’s late symphonies tend to become lengthier as a matter of course. In this case, it is primarily the trio with its oboe solo that made this movement an audience favorite right from the start. In the Finale, Haydn shows us how easily the most intricate compositional techniques can stand in the service of a beguiling, irresistible musical conversation. This greatest of art never sounds scholarly, but (as with Mozart, but in a completely different manner) always vigorous and new. Sparks fly from it; it takes the uninitiated by the hand while delighting the connoisseur. A work ethos that today’s creators could well consider.