Beethoven: Symphony No.8 in F major, Op.93 (1812)
Allegro vivace e con brio
Allegretto scherzando
Tempo di menuetto
Allegro vivace
This glorious symphony – even if having drawn from commentators a somewhat less extravagant profusion of superlatives than its more celebrated predecessor – is hardly less dramatic, in its own more understated way (together with a rather more benign musical language). Dramatic indeed were the times in which both works were created: Napoléon’s forces had reached Vienna in 1809, a bombardment bringing misery to just about every citizen – not least Haydn in his last days, and Beethoven with his rapidly failing ears. The following year he hit back, via the vehemently passionate key of F minor, with both the Quartetto Serioso (Op.95) and the incidental music to Goethe’s Egmont. But eventually, on 21st June 1813, the self-proclaimed emperor tasted defeat by Wellington at Vittoria, and again (by Austrians and Bavarians) at Hanau in the Autumn. Beethoven was invited by his friend Mälzel (creator of the metronome) to write a celebratory piece for his latest invention, the “Panharmonicon” – which he claimed could reproduce the sounds of an entire military band! The composer obliged, not so much in a fit of patriotism, but because of the opportunity for it to be performed (transcribed for conventional orchestra) in a concert alongside the first of a trio of symphonies announced to his publisher in May 1812. This Symphony No.7 had been immediately followed by the Eighth, both of which were yet to be performed; the third of the set was certainly not the aforementioned Mälzel’s so called “Battle Symphony” (more correctly, Wellingtons Sieg oder die Schlacht bei Vittoria, Op.91 – unashamedly bombastic!): plans for the third symphony (in D minor) were not actually fulfilled for a further 12 years….. The benefit concert (for widows, orphans, and wounded soldiers) finally took place, after various delays, on 8th December 1813: ultimately both new symphonies were included, alongside Wellingtons Sieg and the vocal trio Tremati, empi (Op.116): the concert’s vast length was not at all unusual in those times, and such was its success that it was repeated at noon twelve days later – the second movement of the Seventh having to be encored on both occasions.
Even the scoring of both symphonies could be seen as revolutionary, utilising as they do a conventional classical orchestra (reduced from the unprecedented symphonic forces of the Fifth and Sixth) in so resourceful a way as to create what Basil Lam describes as a “vastness of sound”. No less startling (unlike with the seventh), are Beethoven’s tempo demands here – although some may still be surprised by the Allegretto second movements of both works, in this instance perhaps steadier than sometimes heard: the Eighth was one of three major works from 1811/12 which dispensed with a conventional slow movement (the Seventh and the aforementioned Op.95 string quartet being its companions). Returning briefly to Mälzel, this particular movement, with its endlessly ticking semiquavers in the wind, became associated with the invention of the metronome – but since this device didn’t finally appear until 1817 the connection was presumably not intentional! It’s scherzando character is effectively balanced by a return to the 18th century convention of a minuet – for the only time in all nine symphonies, bringing with it with the great advantage of a trio graced by the most delicately imaginative scoring: featuring two horns, solo clarinet and cello, we are told by Prof Denis Matthews that it was “an effect greatly admired by Stravinsky”. Beethoven judiciously balances the outer movements’ vitality, wit, and bonhomie with moments of spacious and lyrical (but short lived) calm in their second subjects. The bustling energy and reckless abandon of the finale becomes totally infectious by the end, culminating in an outrageously hilarious ramming home of the home key of F major!
© Alan George
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