Composer: Franz Josef Haydn (Born in Rohrau, Austria in 1732; died in Vienna in 1809)

Work composed: 1795

World premiere: Haydn conducted the premiere at the King’s Theatre in London on May 4, 1795 in a concert featuring only works by him

Instrumentation: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons,
2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings

Symphony No. 104, “London” in D Major, (H. 1/104)
I. Adagio – Allegro
II. Andante
III. Menuet – Allegro
IV. Finale – Allegro spiritoso

A musical pioneer and genius, Franz Josef Haydn paved the way for several Classical Era genres, most notably the string quartet, the concerto form, and the symphony. In fact, he is considered the “father of” the symphony, and the last one that he wrote, his Symphony No. 104, “London,” is arguably his crowning achievement.

As a musical employee of the very generous Esterhazy family of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Haydn’s talents gained him international fame and considerable freedom as to what and where to compose. Hence, Haydn was invited to London, twice between 1791-92, and then 1794-95, by the music impresario Johann Salomon. Haydn’s presence and compositions enjoyed a very flattering “hysterical enthusiasm” in London where he was inspired to write 12 new symphonies, No’s 93-104. As a group these are called his “London” Symphonies. Though several of these have nicknames, it’s not clear why his final one, No. 104, came to be known as the “London.” Nonetheless it quickly emerged as his most beloved, and rightly so – being filled with a potpourri of Haydn’s compositional gifts: pathos, bright cheer, humor, incredible craft, and the sheer enjoyment that listening to it brings to the audience.

The opening sequence, Adagio (slowly, gracefully), is a lengthy introduction in the dark key of D minor (not D Major, as Haydn’s title suggests) and is indeed spellbinding. The first four notes are loud and ominous, like a call to arms. After a resounding silence, they’re repeated. The introduction then continues in the strings, developing those four notes from a hush and turning it into a funeral march with a welling of emotion and grief – periodically, it’s interrupted by those alarming, loud opening four notes. A moment of absolute silence soon saturates the air with gravity. With such a pathos-filled beginning, the listener would never guess that what follows will be transformed into quicksilver and graciousness throughout the rest of the symphony.

After this pregnant silence, the quicker-tempo Allegro (Fast) opens with its first theme played in the violins – a theme that brims with lyricism and lightness and optimism – as if Haydn has transported us into an entirely new piece. And soon, even the ominous four-note opening motive is turned into a bright hunting call in the horns and timpani. The remainder of the movement will generally proceed in this wonderfully pleasant manner, but the musical drama of the ominous introduction is not entirely forgotten. A middle section begins at about six-and-a-half minutes, where the strings play four repeated notes followed by two more, one a step up and one a step back, which was originally part of the cheery first theme, but here sounds almost like distressed pleading. The sense of urgency is relayed to the woodwinds, and then, when the horns play this motive, things feel very intense. The earlier comforting themes return soon enough, however, to bring the movement to a light-filled close, but the sinister middle-section illustrates the complexity that Haydn imbued the symphonic genre with. This is one of Haydn’s great symphonic movements, and as much as it was loved by its London audiences in 1795, it continues to amaze today.

The second movement, Andante (moderately slow – a walking pace), begins in the strings using a small motive taken from the first movement’s introduction – a carry-over and reweaving technique that Haydn will use for every main theme in the Symphony. Here, he transforms some of that introductory material into a new theme that becomes a song-like reverie filled with grace and beauty. Then, into the midst of this daydreaming a brief middle section intervenes with a moment of sheer gravitas in a minor key, begun softly at first in the winds and led by the flutes. Just a few measures later, the energy becomes even more intense, and deeply moving, with loud outbursts in the strings and brass and timpani. Soon, however, the graceful music returns to conclude the movement, ending with the two French horns creating a glowing goldenness, as this movement comes to its gentle close.

The third movement, Menuet, is modeled on a courtly dance that was a social custom in the late 1800’s. It serves the musical purpose of variety, as a kind of confection of musical manners, and to counter-balance the weighty last movement which will follow. Here is where Haydn adds some delicious humor – musical playfulness for which he was famous. The first theme begins outright in the full orchestra, and it’s reserved, yet with a hint of gallantry. It’s repeated twice, but during its third iteration, the accompanying instruments seem to get stuck in a riff that keeps tumbling over itself – first occurring in the bassoons, and then with the basses getting stuck with them – throwing the poor dancer off-kilter. Soon after, the next phrase contains some pauses that are much too long for dancing. Add some raucous timpani rumbles, and one senses Haydn poking a bit of fun at courtly snobbery. As for confection, there is some delightful oboe, bassoon, and flute work to be heard in the Trio’s contrasting middle section.

The finale, Allegro spiritoso (fast and spirited), opens with a quiet drone in the basses and horns resembling a folky hornpipe (like a bagpipe). The first theme is heard immediately in the violins over this hornpipe drone, and it is robust and infectiously cheerful, sounding very much like a folk dance. Some musicologists consider this opening tune to be of Croatian origin (and if so, Haydn would have likely heard it from immigrants who lived close to his birthplace); others suggest that this tune hearkens to the plaintive call of London street vendors, which may have helped the Symphony get its nickname the “London.” In any case, Haydn, as master of musical molding, shapes and reshapes this theme into some wonderful musical moments. All manner of friskiness is achieved throughout this finale. Musical motives from the earlier movements arise slyly throughout, too, blending into the joyful musical fabric brilliantly, until this finale winds itself up into a romping coda (a brief finishing section meaning “tail”) that is surely one of the most exuberant conclusions in any of Haydn’s symphonies.

© Max Derrickson