When Beethoven moved from his hometown of Bonn in 1792 to the music capitol of the world, Vienna, he soon not only wanted to establish himself as a world-class piano virtuoso, but also as a reputable composer, especially of symphonies. And that he soon did with his First Symphony (in 1800), which was an important success for Beethoven. In fact, it received such high praise that by the end of that year Beethoven was one of the most sought-after composers in Vienna. But Beethoven was a musical forward-thinker, and thus, having achieved success with his First, it seems that he then felt that he could stretch his compositional wings as he contemplated writing his Second Symphony in 1801.
This began an exciting time in his musical life as Beethoven composed almost manically with what he felt as his almost unlimited energy and potential. As he wrote to a friend:
“I live only in my notes, and with one work barely finished, the other is already started; the way I now write I often find myself working on three, four things at once.”
Nonetheless, Beethoven was simultaneously having to come to terms with his advancing deafness and the frustration and despair that it caused him. In 1802, at the same time that he wrote of his excitement in composing, and while he was working on his Second Symphony, he also penned his Heiligenstadt Testament, in which he confided to his brothers the hopelessness of his hearing situation. And yet, vowing to live on for the sake of his “Art,” Beethoven also declared that he would “seize fate by the throat.” And so he did – his Second is unreservedly one of his most good-natured and humorous works, but also an amazingly innovative piece where Beethoven truly stretches his compositional wings. Filled with unexpected compositional techniques, musical surprises, and adventurousness, the Second is not only a great delight to hear, but also an important bridge to Beethoven’s later achievements, and clearly foreshadows his “Middle” period (often called his “Heroic” period) that first takes shape in 1803 with his Third Symphony, “Eroica.”
The Second’s first movement begins with a slow, grand introduction. Throughout its bars Beethoven foreshadows the music that will follow in this Symphony – motives and themes, abrupt dynamic changes, sudden silences, lyricism, and much humor. The extended introduction moves directly into the Allegro con brio (Fast with brilliance), at which point it’s as though Beethoven has ignited a rocket ship. Crackling with energy, the Allegro also conveys a feeling of great cheer. The main theme, beginning in the violas and cellos underneath pulsing upper strings, is proclamatory – two bars of a long note followed by four rising fast notes, ending with a flurry of quick notes in the upper strings – evoking a feeling of someone singing and gesticulating good news with vigor. Throughout the first movement, as Beethoven marshals his orchestral forces into waves of notes and volume, this excitement occasionally borders on becoming almost unhinged: accents on the weak beats lurk everywhere, often giving the music a raucous, humorous off-beat effect. Listen, too, for the importance he gives to the horns, which presage his revolutionary idea of adding a third horn into the orchestra in his next symphony, Eroica. Yet, amidst all this rollicking, Beethoven incorporates three techniques that recur throughout the Symphony and that create both psychological and compositional strength: first are dramatic changes in dynamics, changing quickly from loud to soft and vice-versa; second, changes (sometimes sly, sometimes dramatic) between major and minor keys; and finally, sudden moments of absolute silence. As it comes to its close, this movement leaves us with a very satisfying feeling of cheerfulness.
The second movement Larghetto is largely contemplative and relaxed and is a joy to hear. Its first major theme is lush and lyrical, – but has both gentle moments of light humor as well as brief dramatic outbursts. As in the first movement, the Larghetto exploits changes from minor to major keys. Likewise, it often flits between loud and soft dynamics. But unlike the first movement, this Larghetto feels as though it’s a rambling and sweetly comical confession of being in love – the changes from major to minor almost like a list of pros and cons; the loud-ish outbursts are like professions of affection with outstretched arms. The movement’s conclusion is gently tongue-in-cheek, where after several bars at high volume, the last two notes are but a soft whisper.
The third movement is filled with pure joie de vivre. And it’s the first time that Beethoven marks a third movement as “Scherzo” (translated as “joke”) instead of a menuetto (the stately dance form that Mozart and Haydn, and Beethoven’s First Symphony, used as the third movement). The Scherzo will become an extremely important innovation to the symphonic genre in Beethoven’s next seven symphonies. There’s much outright cheeriness in this movement, enlivened with clever harmonic tomfoolery. Notice how Beethoven again shifts constantly between loud and soft passages, but here it evokes a spirit of good-natured laughter. This wittiness appears too in the writing for winds and strings that share their themes in quick succession, as though they were best friends, then suddenly seem to quibble over which key to play in, and then back to sharing themes. For example, when the middle section Trio arrives at about two minutes into the Scherzo, the winds play a perfectly lovely wind-band kind of tune. But the violins barge in on them and try to establish a new key in an almost taunting manner, but then they seem to shrink away, as if embarrassed, after which the winds then resume their initial wind-band tune. Shenanigans like this dot the musical landscape in this Scherzo, creating a delightfully lively and tuneful movement.
The last movement Finale is another tornado of energy and merriment. The opening 2 ½ bars are atypically comic for a symphonic closing movement. Described by some as an operatic gesture of a stumble (the first two quick notes) followed by laughter (a trill of wavering notes), and then something like knee slaps (two more quick notes) – Beethoven certainly catches our attention with this opening, and it will reappear often in the movement. This Finale will continue to use the characteristic techniques that Beethoven has included so innovatively in the prior movements: extreme changes of dynamics, a host of quick changes between major and minor keys, and moments of unexpected silence. As used in this Finale, however, those techniques make the music shift seamlessly between jubilance and truly passionate lyricism. An important innovation here is the length of the Coda (the concluding section), which begins at about four minutes into this movement, again with that opening 2 ½ bar motive. Historically, a symphonic coda serves to wrap things up happily and quickly, but instead, Beethoven elongates this Coda until it’s many times its usual length (using a full 2 minutes of this 6-minute movement), and adds new musical material into it. In the progress of the symphonic repertoire, Beethoven’s heavily balanced ending here is not only humorous and unexpected, but it also foreshadows the endings of his later symphonies. But in 1802, it was just the beginning of his lifelong experimentation with the genre. And when this Coda does finally wrap up this wonderful Second Symphony, it’s filled with brilliance and joy.
As French composer Hector Berlioz would describe it in 1862, “everything in this Symphony smiles.”
© Max Derrickson