Schumann: Symphony No.3 in E flat, Op.97 “Rhenish”(1850)
Lebhaft
Scherzo:– Sehr mässig
Nicht schnell
Feierlich
Lebhaft
What symphony ever opened with such uncontained joy and exuberance as this? In September 1850 Schumann and his wife Clara had arrived in Düsseldorf, where he was to take up the post of Music Director. Glad to have escaped the oppressive atmosphere of Dresden, and elevated by the tremendous welcome given them, Robert’s precarious mental condition showed a real – if temporary – improvement; so his exceptionally prolific creativity of the previous year continued unabated (that is, until he suffered another breakdown in the summer of 1852……). This symphony was the direct result of the Schumanns’ visit to Cologne soon after their arrival in the area (it was actually his last symphony – No.4 followed No.1 in 1841, but was not published until a complete reworking ten years later). The great flowing river itself, the broad sweep of the surrounding countryside (as yet unblighted by today’s pile-up of industry and urban spread), not to mention the spectacle of the mighty cathedral at Cologne towering right over the river and dominating the skyline – “… Mit seinem grossen Dome, Das grosse heilige Köln”, as earlier immortalised in Dichterliebe – all this evidently made a profound impression. Indeed, the fourth movement commemorates an actual occasion during their trip, when they attended the elevation to Cardinal of Archbishop Geissel in the cathedral. This drew from Schumann something quite unique in his output: the splendour of the polyphony and the grandeur of the orchestration – dominated by the noble sound of trombones – make an unforgettable impression. No less memorable is the effect of leaving the awe-inspiring height and darkness of the great edifice and emerging outside in bright sunshine again: for this symphony is essentially open-air music, as is emphatically demonstrated at the very outset: for the first (and only) time in a symphony Schumann dispenses with a slow introduction, and the bracing energy of the music sweeps all before it.
The scherzo was originally entitled “Morning on the Rhine”, and this rustic, Ländler-like country dance continues the carefree spirit of well-being. There follows a most lovable and loving intermezzo, its heart swelling with the Innigkeit so quintessentially characteristic of Schumann the dreamer – the Eusebius as he so often portrayed himself in earlier, more ardent days. There is an intimacy here which he was rarely able to capture in the less personal medium of the orchestra, and which requires the utmost sensitivity and flexibility from the musicians if the spell is to be captured – in a way which would come more naturally to a single player at the keyboard. Otherwise the performing techniques required are remarkably akin to those established in Beethoven – not least for his own No.3 in E flat. There is here an added need for careful balancing within the orchestra to ensure that the primary colours for each passage always stand out clearly – not helped by Schumann’s more thickened orchestration, whose doubling of parts may well have been occasioned by weaknesses in his new orchestra. This works perfectly successfully on the instruments of his time; but nowadays we need to ensure we learn from their sounds, and how best to enable their modern equivalents to recapture the clarity of old.
In the finale the rustic, out-of-doors spirit of the scherzo returns in abundance, as do thematic memories of the cathedral ceremony – and eventually also the trombones, to join with horns and trumpets in lifting their voices in a paean of pantheistic thanksgiving. Rarely did Schumann experience again such exhilaration as expressed here; the Rhineland “honeymoon” proved short-lived, mainly on account of his increasingly apparent unsuitability for the Directorship. Thereafter his mental health deteriorated alarmingly; what irony that it should be this very river, having inspired such joyousness, that eventually enticed the deranged composer into its depths.
© Alan George
