Schubert: Symphony No.6 in C major, D.589 (1817/8)
Adagio – Allegro
Andante
Scherzo:- Presto – Più lento
Allegro moderato
On 31 March 1824, Schubert wrote to his friend, the painter Leopold Kupelwieser, to inform him that he had recently completed an octet and two string quartets, going on to declare that he wanted to write a third quartet “and thus pave my way for a grosse Symphonie” (which indeed soon proved to be the Great C major). So, despite evidence of this clearly stated goal, it may be perplexing to learn that the last ten years of his life actually presented no opportunities at all for the public performance of a new symphony. His first six had been composed at a rate of one per year, when there was an orchestra available to him either at school (the Vienna Stadtkonvikt) or at Otto Hatwig’s music salon in the Schottenhof, where the composer’s own family string quartet formed the nucleus of the band. Thereafter he actually completed only one more (the “Great C major”, No.9), even though he attempted no fewer than six others (including the famous “Unfinished”, as well as the Tenth – on which he was working right up to his death). No doubt there were many more spawning in his mind, and it might not be too fanciful to speculate that the last quartets, piano trios, piano sonatas, and the C major string quintet were really all latent symphonies that could never expect to find an orchestra to play them. Brian Newbould reminds us in his classic book on the symphonies that “…the appeal of the symphony was so strong that he never lost his commitment to it….”.
Prof Newbould also draws characteristically perceptive comparisons between this most summery of symphonies and various examples of early Beethoven and late Haydn – by way of explaining its origins (and realisation) as a fundamentally turn-of-the-century Classical symphony (all Schubert lovers are urged to acquire a copy of this indispensable volume: “Schubert and the Symphony: A New Perspective”). Yet, along with other distinguished writers, he finds reason to question the consistency of its inspiration and craft. There is no doubt that, following the Mozartian perfection of the Fifth, he felt the need to be more ambitious in this genre – affected maybe by his desire during the years 1818–21 to make more of a name for himself in the opera house. There was also the arrival in Vienna of Rossini, two years previously; after a performance of the opera Tancredi in 1817 Schubert’s friends were so full of eulogies that he set about proving he could do the same thing just as well himself. The result was two overtures, in D major and C major, the latter in particular following many familiar Rossinian formulae – and we find strong echoes of that highly effective piece in this very symphony; not least its grand slow introduction, light hearted melodies, colourful use of wind instruments, whipping up of tempo for the first movement’s coda, plus other more subtle fingerprints.
Yet the scherzo is truly Beethovenian in its mercurial fleetness, and its finale one of those measured country-dance pieces which only Schubert could have dreamed up. There is also a touch of his characteristic Viennese hedonism here; surely no one else would have had the audacity to serve up one of the most outrageously silly tunes of all time, as the second subject of a symphonic finale… How does he get away with it? Well, he is Schubert, one of the most extraordinarily natural musical geniuses of all time – and if his lovable Sixth might appear to be something of a hybrid in its conception, his masterly compositional technique ensures that the often unclouded warmth and joy of his musical language at that time is in no way obscured; thus does this lively, precocious, but sensitive teenage youth finally pass into early manhood.
© Alan George
All Alan’s articles
