Symphony No. 4 in E Flat Major, WAB 104 (‘Romantic’)
Anton Bruckner
Austrian composer Anton Bruckner was born in Ansfelden, near Linz, on Sept. 4, 1824, and died in Vienna on Oct. 11, 1896. A near-contemporary of Johannes Brahms, Bruckner emerged as one of the most important Austro-German composers and teachers during the second half of the 19th century. A skilled organist whose repertory was enriched by his works for that instrument, his most important compositions were in the realms of symphonies and sacred music. He is considered a late-Romantic extension of the legacy of Beethoven and Schubert. The influence of Richard Wagner may be discerned in his orchestrations and harmonic vocabulary. As a teacher at the Conservatory of Music in Vienna, Bruckner was an inspiration to many young composers, including the young Gustav Mahler. His Symphony No. 4 was first conceived in 1874 and was revised by the composer between January 1878 and June 1880. This version was first performed by the Vienna Philharmonic on Feb. 20, 1881. Despite further revisions by Bruckner and others, the 1878/80 version is the one most frequently used. The composer dedicated the symphony to Prince Konstantin Hohenlohe-Schillingsfürst, a figure who played an important role in the development of Vienna’s famous Ringstrasse. Johann Strauss Jr. also dedicated his popular waltz, “Tales from the Vienna Woods,” to this nobleman. The work is scored for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani and strings.
Nearly all of Anton Bruckner’s music is suffused with, and reflective of, his deep immersion in the Catholic faith. The seriousness of purpose stems in part from his upbringing, of course, but also his work as organist, teacher and choirmaster for the boys’ choir at St. Florian in Upper Austria from 1845 to 1855 and his appointment to the most important musical post in the ecclesiastical world of Linz, a position he held until 1868.
His move to Vienna in that same year was sparked by his installation as professor of Counterpoint and Harmony at the Music Conservatory of the Austrian capital city.
It was during this last phase of his career that the composer of sacred choral and organ music turned his attention more fully to the composition of symphonies. His country manners never fit in comfortably with the sophisticated world of Vienna in his day, but — as the famous conductor Wilhelm Fürtwängler said to a meeting of the German Bruckner Society in 1939 — “Bruckner did not work for the present; in his art he thought only of eternity, and he created for eternity. In this way he became the most misunderstood of the great musicians,” according to Michael Steinberg’s The Symphony: A Listener’s Guide.
Bruckner was supremely unconfident as a composer of symphonies, witnessed by his numerous revisions. The shadows under which he worked were those of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and the overpowering music of Richard Wagner.
The fact that some of his pupils — most prominent among them being Gustav Mahler and Hugo Wolf — became avid champions of Bruckner the symphonist, helped buoy his reputation, but — except for a few works — his symphonies have never enjoyed the popularity of those by Brahms and Mahler.
The Fourth Symphony has proven to be Bruckner’s most frequently performed works. Its sound world is unique. Throughout his career, Bruckner excelled as an organist, and it should come as no surprise that his approach to orchestration reflects this.
Each section of his orchestra is treated as if he were unleashing a rank of pipes — one for winds, a different one for brass and yet another for strings. As such, his music often takes on the character of a carefully chiseled sculpture — sometimes of granite, sometimes of softer stuff.
Bruckner’s sense of religious piety and mysticism was ever-mindful that he was born in the same year that witnessed the completion and first performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Like the barely perceptible quiet rustling that begins the first movement of Beethoven’s last symphony, Bruckner’s first movement follows suit.
Beethoven’s opening also begins with broken fragments of an idea that soon explode into a mighty first theme. Bruckner, in his way, draws the ear’s attention to a noble thematic idea in the solo horn, which is soon picked up by the winds. This is followed by yet another arresting idea — one of the composer’s signature traits — a rhythmic figure comprised of two notes followed by a triplet.
All of these combine to build toward a magnificent climax, before the first movement moves on to new thematic ideas.
There have been some hints of a vague “program” for the entire symphony and each of its movements based upon communications from Bruckner himself. None of them, however, shed much light on the music and its “meaning.”
The second movement begins as a funeral march in C Minor. Its opening section gives ample room for the cello and viola sections of the orchestra to spin out Schubertian-inspired melodies, as well as a “chorale” theme reflecting Bruckner’s deep religiosity.
Cast loosely in sonata form, the recapitulation leads to a majestic climax before receding to its hushed ending. The third movement is a fine example of a Brucknerian scherzo, the kind of movement in which he excelled as a symphonist. This one, with its wonderful horn calls, clearly evokes the world of the hunt — a signature idiom in Romantic German culture and economy. Notice once again Bruckner’s favorite duple-followed-by triplet rhythmic figure. The middle section (“Trio”) is a lovely and graceful Ländler, a folk dance popular among Austrians (think of Maria and Captain von Trapp dancing in one of the scenes in “The Sound of Music”).
The symphony’s finale, a movement with which the composer struggled mightily, presents the listener with a bit of a conundrum when trying to understand its sonic architecture. Rather than following logical patterns, the music presents a succession of events: first mysterious, then powerful, last gently lyrical. What does become clear is that Bruckner is drawing upon motivic ideas presented in all three of the movements that precede it.
As to be expected, the symphony ends in a blaze of glory.