Symphony No. 5 in E-flat Major, Op. 82
Jean Sibelius
(b. Dec. 8, 1865 in Hämeenlinna, Finland; d. September. 20, 1957 at Lake Tuusula, Finland)
Jean Sibelius, more than just a composer, stands as an emblem of Finnish identity, pride, and resilience. His remarkable journey as an artist is closely intertwined with the story of Finland's emergence as a nation.
His participation in the Finnish independence movement was not just political but deeply personal. As a converted patriot, his compositions became soundtracks to the nationalistic fervor sweeping the nation. The power of works such as Kullervo and the iconic Finlandia resonated deeply with a populace yearning for sovereignty.
Symphony No. 5 was commissioned for his 50th birthday. He began work in 1914 and met his deadline, conducting the premiere on his birthday in 1915.
With this symphony, Sibelius embarked on a sonic journey, aiming to encapsulate the vastness of nature and the quintessence of human emotion. Horns signal a glorious dawn but as the movement continues there are brief ideas rising and falling, in the end all coalescing to bring it to an incisive, abrupt end.
A chorale-like start, then pizzicato strings hint at the rhythmic motif, moving like footsteps, that is taken up and worked in countless variations by all the instruments throughout the second movement. Twice the basses offer up a walking line in half- and whole-notes, tolling bells perhaps, while the strings tiptoe above them. All in all, the effect is like an intermezzo, delivering us without pause into the dramatic finale.
A fluttering, pulsing start, nervous strings prepare the horns’ entrance with a sublime theme representing flying swans, swaying in half note groups of three. When the trumpets bring back the swan theme after a prolonged absence, the end is in sight, reaching, as Sibelius wrote, “... if I may say so, a vital climax to the end. Triumphal.” Unlike the first movement’s abrupt end, the final six chords, delivered like karate chops, require exquisite patience, about 20 seconds from the first to the last. Count them off and let the ovation begin.
Sibelius was unsatisfied with the first version and revised it twice with the final version from 1919 being the one almost always heard today. His task was complicated by the ravages of World War I, the Finnish Civil War, and his own personal travails – from health issues to financial distress. He had debts exacerbated by the loss of his German publishers. He hid from bombardment in a sanitarium where he was uninjured but nearly starved.
He composed the piece from the beginning with a grand vision, writing in late 1914, “I already begin to see dimly the mountain that I shall certainly ascend. . . . God opens His door for a moment and His orchestra plays the Fifth Symphony.” The solace and inspiration he found in nature were also essential. The serenity of his home, Ainola, named after his beloved wife, offered him both a sanctuary and a muse. One cannot underestimate the profound influence of the Finnish landscape on this piece. A diary entry, dated April 21, 1915, bears testimony to what became the unforgettable music in the final movement: “Saw today before eleven o’clock 16 swans. One of the greatest impressions in my life! O God this beauty!”
Finnish independence was a long time coming. Finland was controlled first by Sweden until 1809, then by Russia until Finnish independence in 1917. Russian sovereignty did not mean that Swedes went home. Swedish remained the language of power and Swedish elites stayed on, including Sibelius’ parents. Thus Sibelius grew up speaking Swedish and Finnish was his second language.
The Finnish fervor for independence spoke to Sibelius’ soul. In turn his music gave the people pride and hope. Each fed the other and made independence inevitable. Still it might have been delayed had it not been for the colossal incompetence of Tsar Nicholas II. An autocrat who believed his authority divinely ordained, Nicholas expected to use his empire for his own purposes which further stoked Finnish independence fervor. Nicholas’ troubles with WWI and the Menshevik revolution in 1917 made holding on to that part of his empire impossible. The murder of Nicholas and his family by the Bolsheviks ended the Romanov dynasty forever. Finally Finland was free.
© 2010, 2015, 2023 by Steven Hollingsworth, Creative Commons Public Attribution 3.0 United States