Duration: Approximately 45 minutes
Composer: Johannes Brahms (Born in Hamburg, Germany in 1833; died in Vienna, Austria in 1897) 
World premiere: 1877 in Vienna with the Vienna Philharmonic
Instrumentation: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, and strings

1. Allegro non troppo
2. Adagio non troppo
3. Allegretto grazioso (quasi andantino) – Presto ma non assai
4. Allegro con spirito

After nearly twenty years in the making, Brahms finally completed and premiered his First Symphony in 1876.  And then, astonishingly, within less than a year, he composed and premiered his Second in 1877.  The two symphonies could not have been more different: the First, full of darkness and struggle and the Second, considered his “Pastoral,” colored by brightness and easiness.  It’s as if once Brahms shook off his symphony-creating demons who had haunted and prevented him from daring to compose a symphony after Beethoven, and feeling liberated, thereby, his Second Symphony emerged out of sheer exuberance.  

In that joyous vein, the opening movement of his Second reflects the serene rural setting of the Worthersee village in Carinth, Austria, where Brahms spent his summers composing, with a gently rocking theme in the basses, horns, and winds.  After that opening, light and breezy themes follow, including a theme which is one of Brahms’s most affectionately lyrical melodies (and often called “Brahms’s Lullaby”).  Before long, however, we begin hearing those changes of mood and thematic developments that are so characteristic of Brahms’ compositions and that give this Symphony such complexity.  The underlying tensions (first heard in the trombones near the beginning) create a rich contrast with the otherwise lighthearted mood.  

The second movement deepens the bucolic mood, however, with a more reflective character, tinged with wistfulness.  One of its most wonderful moments comes shortly after the first theme is played out – first the horn, then oboe, then additional winds muse upon a portion of that first theme in a marvelously rarefied, almost chamber-like way.  Their expansion into the strings transform the moment into one of the Symphony’s most beautiful passages.

The third movement, Allegretto grazioso, is not the fiery scherzo that would normally be expected here.  Instead, Brahms cleverly reverses the main components of the typical scherzo by giving us graceful trios on the outset and then the fiery themes in the middle.  After the rather emotionally dense second movement, this third movement breathes a sunny lightness into the Symphony as a whole, giving it a structural balance.  Utterly delightful is the tonal play between minor and major modes in the first theme, like the play of light and shadows.

 The finale, brightly paced and imbued with warmth, is surely one of Brahms’s most elated works.  There are many moments of unbridled enthusiasm, but one moment stands out for a completely different reason.  In the middle of all the celebrating, the orchestra winds down and the orchestration is stretched out vastly, from the highest wind to the lowest bass notes, and amidst pulsing tremolos in the strings, a part of the main theme is slowed down to a quarter of its speed.  With time stretched almost to suspension, Brahms creates a sense of infinite wonderment.  And then reality returns as the finale falls headlong toward the final bars, concluding in one of the most joyous outbursts that Brahms ever penned.