Pioneering Haydn On Record
by Christopher Howell

An occasional series dedicated to commercial and live recordings of Haydn symphonies up to and including those of the first two complete cycles by Ernst Märzendorfer and Antal Dorati

Symphony no. 30 in C major “Alleluia” Hob. I/30 (1765)

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Symphony 30 owes its nickname to Haydn’s quotation of a Gregorian Alleluia chant in the first movement. Robbins Landon suggests that it may have been intended for performance on Easter Sunday, 1765 – those listening would have heard this chant in church earlier in the day. The melody is initially obscured by the violins’ embellishment of it, though it could ring above this with high horns and trumpets – more of this later. It is heard in clearer but gentler form, including a passage in the minor key, as the “second subject” – inverted commas because this turns out to be another of Haydn’s monothematic sonata-form movements. At the moment of recapitulation, the violin embellishment is dropped and the plainsong melody is stated plainly as a chorale on oboes and horns – and, arguably, trumpets. There is another surprise in the second movement, when a flautist, who sat silently through the first movement, emerges to play an elaborate, concerto-like solo. The player is silent again in the minuet but doubles the violins throughout the trio. Now comes a further surprise, since this minuet is also the finale. Instead of an immediate “da capo” after the trio, which is in F major, another trio follows, this time in A minor. Only after this do we get the da capo of the minuet – written out since the end is modified and extended. It did just cross my mind that, since there are two trios, maybe the first trio should be followed by a da capo of the minuet before proceeding to the second trio, but this is not actually marked and, if anybody has done this, it was after my cut-off date. Another point that crossed my mind might be considered by those more recent performers who think repeats should not be omitted in the da capo of a typical Haydn minuet. Haydn wrote this da capo out in full, for the reason explained above, and wrote it without repeats. Only one case from which to argue, I know.

The bigger question is, to what extent should this so-called “Alleluia” symphony sound like a paean of praise, at least in the first movement? Antony Hodgson tells us that “The catalogue belonging to Kees – a Viennese friend of Haydn – mentions timpani and trumpet parts even though these are missing from the autograph manuscript” [1]. Hodgson goes on to suggest that the trumpet parts would have been identical to those of the horns, either doubling them or replacing them – though would they have played at the beginning of the minuet, which is marked piano? But, he says, “it is necessary to reconstruct a timpani part for modern performance since no contemporary one has been preserved.” In a footnote, he laments that no one has so far seen fit to do this – I understand that some more recent recordings have taken up the challenge. If no one did this earlier, it may be because Robbins Landon saw no need, merely remarking that “the Kees Catalogue contains many symphonies with such added parts, and it is quite possible that in some cases they were actually written for the Kees Academies” [2]. Clearly, a performance with trumpets and drums could raise the roof in the Alleluia passages of the first movement in a way that a performance with only horns, even the proper high horns, could not aspire to. How strange, though, to follow this with a delicate second movement and finish with a minuet, although the final coda of this latter could be quite assertive with trumpets and drums. It would be nice to imagine that Haydn used the symphony as a prelude to a performance of the Te Deum in the same key that he had written a couple of years earlier, creating a sort of choral symphony ante litteram. Pure speculation, of course, though this would not prevent the symphony and the Te Deum, following without a break,from sounding well together in concert or on record.

The first recording of Symphony 30 was issued in 1952 by Wilhelm Loibner and the Vienna Academy Chamber Orchestra (Lyrichord LL36). As with their recording of Symphony 29, I have had to draw a blank so far. This symphony, at least, did not have to wait till the 1970s for a second outing on disc – it was set down in June 1965 by Hans Swarowsky and the Vienna State Opera Orchestra (Vanguard VCS10021). This brings us to another point raised by both Hodgson and Robbins Landon – high horns. From the 19^th century on, horns in C played an octave down, but in Haydn’s day they played at score pitch. Not only the technique but the knowledge of this had been lost till musicology got busy in the 1950s. I am somewhat surprised that Swarowsky, who was something of a stickler for doing things properly, had not kept abreast of this but there it is. He actually has the horns play rather lightly, as though he realized something was wrong, but there is inevitably muddiness at times. A pity, since his first movement is alert and lively in a rather baroque manner, and with both repeats. His second movement is attractively perky and he has the flute play a little cadenza at its pause before the reprise of the main theme. This is surely right, but should the cadenza be exactly the same both times – he gives both repeats? Unfortunately, the charms of this performance fall short in the rather leaden minuet and bland first trio.

Ernst Märzendorfer has high horns and seems anxious to belie the idea that this is an “Alleluia” symphony, offering a first movement with delicate, light-filled, almost dainty textures and much charm, though with a sensitive response to the brief excursions into the minor key. Trumpets and drums would have been a mismatch for such a conception. Both repeats are played. The second movement, at a slightly slower pace than Swarowsky’s, has a relaxed charm, offering the flute a little more space to play the notes – but no cadenza and no second repeat. Charm is again the keynote of the minuet and Märzendorfer finds more character in the first trio, at a slightly slower tempo than the minuet. It will be evident from my introductory comments that my expectations of this symphony, at least in the first movement, are rather different, but according to his own lights, Märzendorfer brings it off marvellously.

In the first movement, at least, Dorati comes closer to my idea of the music. He has no trumpets or drums, but he has high horns and adopts a bolder, more festive approach than Märzendorfer. The second repeat is missing – a pity. In the second movement, he combines exaggerated charm and curlicues with a brisk tempo in a way that I found increasingly irritating as he pushed relentlessly on. The second repeat is omitted and I was not sorry. The minuet likewise attempts rococo grace, with a bulge on each first beat and a minute hesitation on each upbeat. As a result, the music proceeds on a bar-by-bar basis without any longer line. Serious sod that I am, I just could not crease my mouth into a false smirk with every single bar and was thoroughly sick of it by the end.

Märzendorfer, then, will have to be my go-to performance. At some stage, I will have to investigate the later recordings, hoping to find one closer to my own idea of this symphony. Or does the one live/broadcast version change anything?

This is once again from the Cameo Classics/Itter Collection set and has Boyd Neel conducting his orchestra on 24 December 1952. This was the final item in a Christmas programme otherwise containing the concerto from “Bach’s” Cantata 142, Manfredini’s Christmas Concerto, the introduction to “The Flight into Egypt” from Berlioz’s “L’Enfance du Christ” and a Noël by Rodrigo. “Bach” in inverted commas because Cantata 142 is no longer believed to be his work. The Boyd Neel Orchestra has made a previous appearance in this series of articles, but in Symphony 6 the conductor was Anthony Collins. As often in these earlier recordings, the manner of the string playing produces a fuller texture than we expect now, or even expected in the 1970s. The low horns contribute to this fullness, whatever they detract in other respects. The first movement goes at a sturdy, Handelian tempo, with considerable festive spirit. Only the first repeat is taken. The second movement is very slow. As far as the orchestral portions are concerned, Boyd Neel, for all his elegance, could not convince me this was not too slow, but the flautist’s fine artistry makes the most of the extra space it is allowed. We are not told who the player was, but Richard Adeney appeared regularly with this orchestra in those years and the playing is certainly worthy of him. No repeats, perhaps inevitably given the slow tempo. The minuet has a good lilt and makes much of the first trio. Neel and Märzendorfer between them seem to have proved that, if you want to get the best out of this trio, it will have to go a little slower than the minuet. Neel is also sharply characterful in the second, minor key trio. Ultimately though, this is in the “glad to have heard it” rather than the “go to” category.

The BBC gave this symphony a few further outings over the years, under Leo Wurmser in 1956, Michael Krein in 1966 and Brian Priestman in 1970. It would be nice to think that at least the latter exists in somebody’s attic.   

Christopher Howell © 2026

[1] Antony Hodgson: The Music of Joseph Haydn: The Symphonies, Fairleigh Dickinson University Press 1976, p. 58.

[2] H.C. Robbins Landon: Haydn. Chronicle and Works. Vol. 1. Haydn: the Early Years 1732-1765. Thames and Hudson 1980, p.569.