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| Archiv Produktion (Full price) (LP) 429 756/7-4AH (two cassettes, oas); (CD) 429 756/7-2AH (two discs, oas: 63 and 62 minutes: DDD). |
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| 429 756-2AH: No. 42 in D; No. 44 in E minor, "Trauer"; No. 46 in B. 429 757-2AH: No. 45 in F sharp minor, "Farewell"; No. 47 in G, "Palindrome"; No. 50 in C. |
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Each of the two final volumes in Trevor Pinnock's survey of Haydn's "Sturm und Drang" symphonies centres on one of the great minor- keyed works which pushed the contemporary musical language to a ne plus ultra of violent intensity: the Trauer ("Mourning") Symphony No. 44, so called because Haydn is said to have wanted the sublime Adagio played at his funeral; and the Farewell, No. 45, whose charming programmatic purpose pales before the music's impassioned urgency and formal originality. Of the four major-key symphonies here, two, Nos. 46 and 47, have been recorded several times before and crop up from time to time on concert programmes; but the others, Nos. 42 and 50, are two of the least known of all Haydn's middle-period symphonies—which means they are aired about as often as Havergal Brian's Gothic Symphony.
This neglect is especially unjust in the case of No. 42. Its first movement, marked Moderato e maestoso, is an unusually massive and expansive piece, with brilliant, sonorous orchestral writing (including at one point a true 'Mannheim' crescendo) and a harmonic breadth new in Haydn's symphonic music. The following Andante e cantabile, with its characteristic muted violins and sparing but expressive use of oboes and horns, is similarly expansive, a gravely beautiful sonata-form movement built on a sustained, hymnlike melody of a type found in many of Haydn's later slow movements. In contrast, the minuet and finale are early examples of the racy, popular style which colours so many of the symphonies from the mid 1770s onwards. The finale is especially delightful, a cunning and witty amalgam of rondo and variations.
Symphony No. 46 is probably the only eighteenth-century symphony in the outlandish key of B major. And as in the Farewell, outlandish tonality yields extremes of expression. For a major-key work of this period the opening Vivace is astonishingly tense and troubled, with its ferocious outbursts in the minor and obsessive concentration on one or two terse motifs. And though the finale, like that of No. 42, is headed Presto e scherzando, its humour is altogether more bizarre, even disturbing, with odd silences, more violent minor-keyed eruptions and, near the close, a surprise return of the preceding minuet—a unique occurrence in Haydn's symphonies.
The year 1772 was something of an annus mirabilis for Haydn's instrumental music: in addition to Symphony No. 46 it also yielded the Op. 20 String Quartets, the earliest undisputed masterworks in the genre, and the first two symphonies on the second disc here, the Farewell and No. 47 in G, sometimes known as the Palindrome because in both the minuet and the trio the orchestra plays the music twice forwards and then twice backwards to arrive at the beginning. In this splendid symphony "Storm and Stress" are less overt than in No. 46, though in the first movement (whose martial dotted rhythms evidently appealed to Mozart—he copied down the opening bars) the recapitulation enters in a menacing G minor rather than the expected major. The finale, unusually for a Haydn symphony of this period, has more than a whiff of Balkan folk-music, with its stinging accented grace notes, its syncopations and its brusque alternations of major and minor. Symphony No. 50 is a very different work, one of a long line of ceremonial C major symphonies with trumpets and drums; and it was probably this symphony (and certainly not the erroneously nicknamed No. 48) that Haydn composed in honour of the Empress Maria Theresa's visit to Esterhazy in 1773. If I'd been the Empress, though, I'd have felt rather more flattered by No. 48. The first two movements, in particular, of No. 50 strike me as a bit perfunctory, the Allegro di molto short-breathed and mechanical in its working-out, the Andante, with its archaic textures, overburdened with otiose triplet figuration. Both the minuet and, especially, the powerful finale are on a higher level; but this symphony's neglect is not, perhaps, wholly fortuitous.
Not surprisingly, Pinnock's performances share the abundant virtues of previous discs in this series. The string playing is sweet-toned, supple and precisely articulated, yet amply weighty and incisive where required. The wind, despite an odd moment of sour oboe intonation, are pointed and characterful, with horn playing of consistent flair and finesse (and the bassoon drolly savours a rare moment of emancipation from the cellos and basses in the finale of No. 42). Textures are ideally transparent, with oboes and horns cutting through excitingly in the tuttis; and time and time again Pinnock reveals felicities in Haydn's scoring and part-writing that often go for little—as one instance among many, hear how he points the second violin line in the recapitulation of No. 46's Poco adagio (bars 43ff.), delicately heightening the music's pathos. Outer movements are boldly projected, their contrasts vividly drawn, their often exceptional rhythmic and harmonic tension powerfully sustained—listen to the finale of No. 44, where Pinnock screws up the music to breaking point, in a way I have rarely heard. Tempos are lively but by no means over-hasty, except perhaps in the opening Moderato e maestoso of No. 42, which could do with more conscious grandeur. Slow movements are gently eloquent, done with a beautiful sense of line (none of that exaggerated 'squeezed' phrasing you still occasionally find in period-instrument performances) and much subtlety of detail. The Adagios of Nos. 44 and 45 are arguably too grazioso, a touch lacking in expressive depth, though conversely Pinnock's broad, shapely performance of No. 50's Andante finds more in the music than I had expected. Minuets are invariably brisk, verging on one-in-a-bar. Some movements (notably in Nos. 45 and 47) respond well to this approach, though I did wish for more poise in the minuets of No. 42 (where the presence of semiquavers at one point surely suggest a slower tempo) and No. 46, whose wistful, even melancholy implications are rather skated over in this performance.
But I don't want to exaggerate my misgivings here. These are invigorating and illuminating readings of some of Haydn's richest middle-period symphonies, beautifully played and recorded. Together with Sigiswald Kuijken's set of the "Paris" Symphonies on Virgin Classics, Trevor Pinnock's survey of the "Sturm und Drang" works creates a landmark in recordings of Haydn's symphonies on period instruments, rivalling the finest period-instrument performances of Mozart in polish, commitment and interpretive insight.
RW