On my desk today is Schumann’s 2nd Symphony. If you had assembled a panel of experts, including every major composer from 1825 to 1899, at the end of the 19th century to pick the most important symphony after Beethoven, Schumann 2 would probably have been the one, beating out all the Brahms, Bruckner, Dvorak, Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohns easily.
One reason the piece was so highly esteemed in its day was that it is what I call a “crafty” piece- that is, it is not only exciting and emotionally shattering music, it is also music that contains an extraordinarily rich array of musical touches of compositional craft.
For instance, the piece is full of ciphers, codes, quotations and references to other music. The master of cipher and quotation is, of course, JS Bach, and, as it turns out, Schumann 2 is the most Bach-ian of the Schumann symphonies, and one of the most Bachian of all symphonies ever written.
There is a biographical reason for this. In 1844, Schumann had become terribly ill. Writers often speak, to my mind, rather glibly, of Schumann’s history of mental illness, and musicians and critics lacking in both good musical taste and human decency often seem to link Schumann’s health problems to what they wish to criticize in his music. “Of course Schumann couldn’t orchestrate,” they often say, “he was crazy…”
What I find particularly offensive in so much writing on Schumann is the intimation, or outright accusation, that Schumann’s mental illness was the manifestation of weakness on his part. As anyone who really understands the nature of mental illness can tell you, such an interpretation represents a sick misunderstanding of mental illness and brain chemistry.
Make no mistake about it- in 1844, Robert Schumann fell ill, nearly mortally ill, as much so as if he had developed cancer. That he recovered from this illness to write his greatest masterpiece shows an almost superhuman strength of will and great personal courage, not weakness.
At the height of his illness, Schumann was unable to listen to or work on music, tortured as he was by auditory hallucinations. As he began his recovery, he turned to an intense personal study of the music of JS Bach. Inspired by Bach, Schumann began work on his masterpiece while still ill, and composed his way back to health. Throughout the work, Bach seems to stand in the background, alongside Haydn and Beethoven as a trio of guardian angels, guiding Schumann back to his muse.
Bach is invoked in the very first bars of the symphony as Schumann writes an introduction at is, in essence, a chorale prelude, one of the most Bachian of forms. Above an endlessly self-reinventing and re-developing melody in the strings, we hear a simple and declamatory theme. Just as Bach would use a Lutheran chorale theme not of his own creation in his chorale preludes, Schumann’s chorale theme is also a quote- of the opening of Haydn’s last symphony, no 104.
One work that we know Schumann spent a lot of time with during his convalescence was Bach’s Musical Offering. The following Allegro ma non troppo is a study in perpetual motion, most of it generated from a simple four note theme which is treated almost as an ostinato. As it happens this ostinato rhythm is taken from the Trio Sonata of the Musical Offering, a piece that we’ll hear more of later in the symphony.
Other than the first page of Don Juan, nothing has brought more stress into the lives of violinists than the Scherzo of Schumann 2, the bane of orchestra audition-ers around the world. Sadly, I think the trauma of all those tapes and auditions have slightly blinded many players to the wonders of the Scherzo as a piece of music. It is a brilliant, endlessly inventive movement with two very different Trios- one spry and witty, and the second soulful and rarified. The second trio begins with a beautifully crafted four part chorale, the theme of which is then made the subject of a brief contrapuntal episode. Again, the spirit of Bach is felt in every bar, especially once we realize that the second part of the theme is a quotation of the musical BACH motive (Bb-A-C-B natural). All the more remarkable is that we can see that the BACH theme is almost identical to the main theme of the first movement, especially when it is transposed up a fourth later in the trio (Eb, D, F, E natural here, E, D, F, D in the first movement, surely no accident, given Schumann’s love of developing new themes by changing one note at a time) The movement reaches its joyous culmination in a return of the Haydn fanfare.
The third movement begins with what seems to be among the most heart-wrenching and Schumann-esque of melodies. If only Schumann had written it! In fact the violin melody is an almost note for-note quote of the same Trio Sonata of the Musical offering as he quotes in the first movement. In it’s pathos, espressivity and long-breathed lines, it is the quintessential (and perhaps the greatest) Romantic slow movement, but throughout the movement the independence of voices recalls the presence of Bach again and again.
The Finale was the movement in which Schumann said that for the first time since his illness began that he began to feel himself again. It begins with a bracing march theme which has a striking resemblance to “Es lebe Sarastro” from the Magic Flue, and that celebration of life seems very much the mood of the movement. Then, one by one, Schumann works his way back through the symphony- first reworking Bach’s Musical Offering theme, then gradually returning to the ideas of earlier movements. Along the way we find two songs, one by Schumann himself- Widmung (Dedication) presented to Clara on their wedding day, and Beethoven’s An die ferne Geliebte (To the Immortal Beloved), where Beethoven sets the words “Take them then, these songs.” As with the BACH-motive quote in the 2nd movement, Schumann seems to discover the Beethoven quote almost by accident, gradually changing a note or two of his own melody, until Beethoven’s cantus firmus emerges. “Take them then, these songs” says the poet to his beloved. A dedication indeed, of love and gratitude, a song of thanksgiving and love to Clara- Beethoven’s great hymn of thanksgiving was the Heiliger Dankesang from the op 132 quartet, a reverent and deeply personal statement of thanks. Schumann sings of love and gratitude to the whole world, and when Haydn’s fanfare returns at last, we know it is a call to celebration. At the end, Schumann has taken his place alongside those mentors, Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, and most of all, Bach.
Schumann was arguably one of the most influential people in the music world of his time and place. That has much more to do with his work as editor of the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik than his work as composer, though (even if that’s hard to measure). Add to the mix his unusually headstrong and charismatic wife, and you get a good sense for where his reputation came from.
I have been intensely involved with Schumann’s music for at least ten years now, and though some of it can be categorized as mere trifles, there lurks even in the most minor, tossed-off works a kind of love of the unknown and unknowable that I find extremely sympathetic. Many of Schumann’s accomplishments in large-scale form as well as small were never really taken up by later generations and still sit there waiting to be digested.
Schumann seems to exercise a tremendous hold on his admirers and I’ve always thought it stems from the Florestan/Eusebius duality that characterizes his work and with which I suspect many of us may identify. Only Elgar equals this degree of personal association with music for me.
Besides the heated discussions and humour, thats one of the great things about dropping by your blog everyday – sometimes a snowball comes out of the sky and hits me on the head – learning something about a work I would never have for a second given time for. Now you got me sonically curious and headed over to iTunes to check it out. Good post, Ken.
Hey RAD- I’m glad to hear from you. I’ve enjoyed your blog for a long time, in spite of my skepticism regarding the Full English Breakfast https://kennethwoods.net/blog1/index.php?s=Full+english+breakfast. I especially enjoyed your recent Schnittke post and the thoughts about the String Trio,which is still fresh in my mind (and which we’re touring with next year).
I’d never thought to make the comparison to Elgar, although it makes perfect sense. Funnily enough, my RCICW colleague David Hoose’s two favorite composers seem to be Elgar and Schumann, good man. Both Elgar and Schumann share this compulsion to fill their scores with riddles and codes, and to reveal their inner worlds as if simultaneously telling all and keeping a secret.
Well said “unknown and unknowable…”
All best
Ken
Thought you might be interested in this completion (if that’s the word) of the Overture, Scherzo and Finale – unheard – just passed on FYI. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=91584028 Completions? now that’s a topic for a future post! Mahler 10, Elgar 3, Mozart Requiem et al.
Regards
Guy
Hi Guy-
Thanks for the link! The Overture, Scherzo and Finale is a favorite piece of mine- I don’t think it needs any help at all- it works well as he wrote it, and the transition from the Scherzo to Finale is a great moment. The added music is lovely, being Schumann, but I can’t really see any justification for it beyond getting this arranger some free PR….
Of course, there are plenty of 3 movement symphonies- most French symphonies are in 3 movements. Why not just call OS&F Schumanns cheese-eating-surrender-monkey symphony? Piston wrote 3 movement symphonies- do we go around sticking bits of other Piston pieces into his music?
Good to hear from you, and thanks again for the link
Ken
“… do we go around sticking bits of other Piston pieces into his music?…”
No…because half of Boston would kick his **** incl. moi!
The audacity to believe you can rewrite a composers music – whether you think it’s bad or good – should be an anachronistic crime.
On a side, I heard an orchestration of Rachmaninovs C# minor prelude on the BBC radio yesterday, and had to shut it down it was so bad.