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Symphony No. 9 "The Great C Major"
Schubert

Written by Anna Vorhes


BORN
January 31, 1797 in Liechtenthal, now a suburb of Vienna

DIED
November 19, 1828 in Vienna

INSTRUMENTATION
two flutes, two obes, two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani, strings

COMPOSED
Beginning in spring 1825 through the winter of 1826

WORLD PREMIERE
There was a private sight reading rehearsal in 1827 or 1828 by the Vienna Society of Friends of Music but the work was not premiered during Schubert's lifetime.  The final movement was performed at the Redoutensaal in Vienna on April 17, 1836.  The complete work was performed by the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra on March 21, 1839, with Felix Mendelssohn conducting.

SOMETHING TO LISTEN FOR
This symphony begins with a lovely long and lyric horn solo followed by an introduction that moves us from the andante of a traditional classical symphonic opening to the allegro ma non troppo of the body of the movement by gently increasing the tempo.  We're only aware we've arrived as the movement begins in earnest.  The sonata form that follows is as expected, though the phrases are not the clean and neat four bar question and answer pattern that were such a strong part of Haydn's and Mozart's constructions.  The key relationships are also innovative throughout this symphony.  The second movement offers a march with an oboe solo in which you may hear the gems of ideas that will be developed in the movement.  The march disappears for a lyric middle section, with the march returning as many would expect in a second movement.  The march isn't without reference to the more lyric middle section.  There is interplay between the two moods for the rest of the movement.  The ending chords are especially interesting as Schubert does not stick to the dominant leading to tonic that was the standard of classical endings.  Listen for his loud and interesting chords, followed by a soft and gentle ending which is more as expected.  The third movement is a scherzo that begins with a conversation between low pitched strings sound serious and the winds who sound convinced the world is much less serious.  The ensuing conversation is delightful to follow.  Each side seems to give a little.  The final movement is large in scope, and touches on much of the material Schubert presented earlier in the symphony.  James M. Keller, writing for the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, says, "So we arrive at the finale, another big-boned essay in exuberance."


Program Notes

Franz Schubert is a recognizable name in the world of music.  Singers and pianists often revere him and the works he crafted for them.  Symphony orchestras aren't as sure, and opera houses rarely feature any of his works.  Why is that the case? Arguably, opera is the most prestigious of artistic musical genres, with orchestral music close behind.  Chamber music has many proponents, but never gained the respect given to the larger works.  In his short life, Schubert produced eleven completed operas, none of which are in the standard repertoire today.  He produced symphonies, though numbering them is complex, with this Symphony No. 9 being the last and most extensive of them.  His chamber music output was incredible on the other hand, with over 600 lieder and a large body of piano music including piano duets that brought that genre to a virtuosic place.

Why did Schubert write what he did? Why fewer symphonies and more chamber works? Of course, any proposed reason is pure speculation, but an examination of his life and world may give us clues worth considering.

Franz Schubert was the twelfth child born in his family.  The high infant mortality of the day took many of his siblings, but the family was large.  His father ran a school out of the ground floor of the house with family quarters upstairs.  Young Franz was sent to study at the St. Stephen's Cathedral Choir School (now home of the Vienna Boys' Choir) at an early age, and he became a private pupil of Salieri, late in that composer and teacher's life.  When he was dismissed from the choir school after his voice changed, he eventually joined his father's business, teaching school, a job that didn't suit his personality at all.  He left teaching to live with friends.  He would often be found living with friends for the rest of his short life.

Society was changing.  The aristocracy still had their inner circle, but a new middle class was growing.  Schubert could not claim to be upper class and hadn't caught the attention of a powerful patron who could introduce him into court circles, even with Salieri's support.  However, he did make friends easily, and was surrounded by people who enjoyed the lieder and piano works so suited to a private, at  home concert.  In this context he offered lovely evenings of works that would please an audience whether in the storytelling of his lieder or in the experience of piano solos and duets.  The piano was truly coming into its own as a sturdy and varied instrument.  Schubert was by no means a virtuoso player, but he could collaborate on lieder performances or take part in the piano duets that were becoming popular.

These at home concerts became so popular when Schubert attended that they came to be called Schubertiades.  The events were part party and part recital with great enjoyment had by all.  Lieder, by nature, can be performed by amateur performers if chosen well.  They are dramatic, set familiar words, and ar not terribly long.  The piano parts became more collaborative, drawing the scenes as the vocalist tells the story.  They were easy to print as well and publishers saw to it that they would look nice on the piano, showing that the host knew the current taste and favorites.

Schubert wrote operas and symphonies during this time as well.  Despite enlisting friends with careers in opera to encourage opera houses to stage his works, Schubert never was able to hear one of his operas produced.  They were not accepted by the opera houses of the day.  His symphonies were equally problematic.  His first six symphonies were written when he was quite young and included the styles and sensibilities of his predecessors Haydn and Mozart.  His final symphonies, Seven, Eight and Nine were mature compositions worthy of attention, but they were never performed in a public concert hall or published during his life.  (There are sketches that may nave been intended to be a tenth symphony, but today, scholars reject it as being too incomplete to be playable.)

Why weren't Schubert's symphonies performed? First, his most frequent venue was in the salon of a household or in a public tavern where people could gather for the social event of a Schubertiade.  There was not enough room and the spaces were far from concert halls.  Secondly, his most faithful followers did not have the connections to orchestras to convince them to play.  There were amateur groups that gathered to play together, but even they declined to program the works.  They would occasionally read a movement as part of a gathering, but Schubert's works were not presented in concert.  One of the complaints was that the string parts were too difficult.

Determining exactly when this Great C Major Symphony was composed has required some sleuthing by musicologists.  The title page includes a date in 1828, the final year of Schubert's life.  The Romantic Era public (and musicians) found it reasonable to think this work was the final composition of a composer who knew himself to be dying.  However, examining the paper and ink, and examining the composer's discussions of his works has showed this symphony to be started in 1825, and finished in 1826.  Schubert was suffering from a debilitating disease which abated some in that year and a half.  When the disease returned (probably syphilis for which no cure existed at the time) the composer was less able to write easily.  At the end of his life Schubert went to live with his brother Ferdinand.  Sometime in 1828 The Vienna Society of Fiends of Music organized a reading rehearsal of the Great C Major Symphony.  It was for a closed audience, however.  The musicians were not delighted because it was long and difficult to perform in comparison with other works they were accustomed to playing.  The key relationships were not obvious and there was a sense of storytelling rather than the obvious forms the listeners and performers had come to expect.

After Schubert's death his works found more popularity.  His brother Ferdinand sold many manuscripts to publishers.  Robert Schumann, in his persona as a music critic, visited Ferdinand and examined unpublished manuscripts written by Franz Schubert.  Leopold Jansa found a copy of the symphony and programmed the final movement of April 17, 1836 at the Redoutensaal.   Robert Schumann shared the manuscript with Felix Mendelssohn who programmed a full performance at the Leipzig Gewandhaus on March 21, 1839.  It would not be until 1849 the work was actually published.  Schumann, encouraging Mendelssohn to look at Schubert's Great C Major Symphony, wrote:
"Here, beside sheer musical mastery of the technique of composition is life in every fiber, color in the finest shadings, meaning everywhere, the acutest etching of detail, and all flooded with a Romanticism which we have encountered elsewhere in Franz Schubert.  And this heavenly length, like a fat novel in four volumes by Jean Paul - never-ending, and if only that the reader may go on creating in the same vein afterwards...it is still evidence of an extraordinary talent that he who heard so little of his own instrumental work during his lifetime could achieve such an idiomatic treatment both of individual instruments and of the whole orchestra, securing an effect as of human voices and chorus in discourse...the brilliance and novelty of the instrumentation, the breadth and expanse of the form, the striking changes of mood, the whole new world into which we are transported - all this may be confusing to the listener, like any initial view of the unfamiliar.  But there remains a lovely aftertaste, like that which we experience at the conclusion of a play about fairies or magic.  There is always the feeling that the composer knew exactly what he wanted to say and how to say it, and the assurance that the gist will become clearer with time" (as quoted by James M. Keller writing for the San Francisco Symphony)