Johannes Brahms

(1833-97)

Symphony No. 3
in F Major Op. 90

Justin A. Ryan
December 2003

an analysis by

UNITY
The beauty of the F major symphony lies in unifying elements both overt and subtle. Roger Sessions argues that any successful musical work must have only one pair of contrasting ideas, though in this work, Brahms creates dichotomies of pitch, rhythm, melody, and affect. Each duality exists in its own evolution, while contributing to the unification of the entire symphony.

F-A-F Motto The most blatant link is the three-note motto 1-3-8 or F-Ab-F, presented at the outset and conclusion of the work and referenced throughout (see following section for discussion of meaning of frei aber froh). The motto is introduced as the first two bars of the symphony, going immediately underground, working subliminally in various themes as a motivic underpinning. The opening theme of m. 3 is supported by a bass line of F-Ab-F, while in fact the theme itself is an inversion of that very arpeggio. While less convincing, a compacted 1-3-6 version is often found, such as in the second subject of the opening movement, #4: E-G#-C#. The second violin line in the countersubject of m. 47 outlines 1-3-8 nicely. In the minor elaboration of theme #4 at E, the 1-3-6 motive is expanded to overshoot the motto, resolving in a 9-8 appoggiatura. At G, the motto is finally realized as a melody in a solemn horn solo (now the 3rd and 5th scale degrees, the minor third fitting diatonically), but the top note cannot hold and must sink back down. Appropriately, the theme from m. 3 returns at H to help pull the arpeggio-

motto down. The accompanying score and theme reduction are marked with red pencil in abundant references to the motto. Until its return in the finale coda, the motto can be found throughout the inner movements. In the third measure of the Andante, the clarinet melody (#7) reaches up through 1-3-7, echoed by the strings in m. 4. The clarinet and echo finally reach 1-3-8 at the conclusion of the paragraph, mm. 21-23. The motto is notably absent in the movements second subject at C (#8), justified by the fact that in its stillness, it will play a central role in the symphonys conclusion. The motto in the Poco Allegretto becomes clear through the evolution of the triad outlined in the first four notes of the melody. By the second phrase, mm. 3-4, the leap has defined 1-3-7. In anticipation of this, the first violin figure at the end of m. 3 states the motto in its purest form. The accompaniment of the strophe from B to C is particularly expansive in reaches to 1-3-8. The final movement is somewhat of an anomaly until the revealing and enlightening coda. For this reason, subsequent hearings make the work infinitely more meaningful, as it takes on coherence in both directions of time. Just as music from the conclusion is understood in terms of the previous movements, the opening itself cannot be heard again without considering the implications of its evolution. The motto from the symphonys first measures appears in full view near the end of the finale, a feature not common to the classical symphonic form. The statement from the oboe in mm. 273-74 comes completely by surprise on one level, and a perfectly logical evolution of the finale on another. The mood in the opening of the fourth movement is

reminiscent of the seriousness and drive of the first, contrasting profoundly the romanticism of the inner movements. Replacing the sweeping F major/minor melody is a mysterious winding motive featuring three consecutive semitones, B-C-Db, giving little certainty of a tonal center. The motto, in its octave expanse, is nowhere to be found save obscure references in the trombones, especially the second, mm. 65-65, 206-7, 210-11. The use of the trombones for this reference is of course significant, given their role in the coda. Only the most discerning ear, though, might predict what is to come from it. A most subtle connection might also be drawn in the C major subject introduced abruptly at C, #13. The shape of the arpeggio outlines the inverse of 1-3-6, otherwise known as a second position triad. At times, relation of the 1-3-8 motto can become convoluted with the fundamental concept of a triad, and could be especially superfluous when inversions are involved. If anything, the motto-asmelody could add an extra dimension to the meaning of diatonicism, especially in its various harmonizations. The arrival of the motto amid fragments of the finales opening motive, and given the belated return of the forgotten theme from the Andante, #8, a unity of greater proportions is inevitable. We should now return to the beginning of the symphony and consider the harmonization of the F-Ab-F motto. The implications will explain the harmonic evolution of the work, and ultimately, the mottos return in the finale. The contents and relation of the first five chords (measures) can be traced throughout the entire symphony. A minor/major modal ambiguity is established in mm. 3-4 between the notes A and Ab. This is reunderstood with the Db major chord in m. 5, only a half step away from F minorC to Db.

Yet again a shift is experienced in the fully diminished seventh chord of m. 6, which includes the tonic note, F. The melody at A is a healthy F major, quickly transferring to a repetition in Db major. The dominant, C major, is nowhere to be found, and only weakly in the cadence into rehearsal A. Continuing the A-Ab dichotomy, the second subject (m. 36, #4) is in the key of the over third, A major, opposite Db in relation to F. A false recapitulation at H (described later) leads to a V7-I cadence to Db in mm. 121-22, reminiscent of the block chords at the opening of the movement. The Db chord turns out to function in an augmented sixth role when the f7 returns in m. 123, prompting the true recapitulation. After the dominant has been consistently avoided, it appears accompanying the opening melody (#2) at m. 183, only it is in minor form and part of a transitional passage. A perfect cadence finally occurs placidly at mm. 214-15, to be quickly replaced by the motto and its corresponding f7, the de facto, yet unsettling dominant. The Andante settles comfortably in the previously-avoided C major, allowing the Ds and As to exist in their natural form (i.e. not flat). References to the chromatic equivalents are made, of course, most notably in the offset bars of mm. 29-30, the haunting second subject at rehearsal C, the barren passages before D and at G, and the new theme at F. The main theme of the movement remains clean of these notes, except for the blatant statement of Db major and F minor in the Neapolitan-minor plagal cadence of the closing, mm. 130-32. Depressing the wafting C major Andante, the Poco Allegretto brings back Ab in full force. The resolving measures of the melody2, 4, and 9are F minor, colored in each

instance by a 9th or 11th in the melody. The elusive dominant from the first movement, C major, appears at rehearsal A, and even resolves briefly to F major at m. 29, before stumbling back to C minor at B. The trio at letter C adds the Db we had been awaiting, further exploring chromatics not yet ventured into in the symphony. Having explored the implications of the first page of the score, Brahms sets to recapitulate the entire symphony from the beginning of the finale. The first measure refers to C, the tonic of both inner movements and pitch included in the first chord of the symphony. The B natural is part of the f7, second chord of the symphony, along with the Db, fifth chord, which also has developed a meaning of its own. The second measure is pure F minor, which retrospectively contextualizes the first measure, previously ambiguous. Measure 5 introduces E natural, leading tone to F and often used to extend the works motto in transposition, first seen in m. 7 of the Allegro con brio. Ab is reinforced as the mediant of F minor after letter A, where the Andantes second subject (#8) is reintroduced. Recall that this theme was not seen again in the second movement, except for reference to only the first two notes in the barren passages before D and at G. The theme was also one of the uncommon spots where G#/Ab appeared in the otherwise C major movement. C major and minor are further contrasted in new themes at C and E. An intense buildup before C yields to a light triplet major melody, which first succumbs to its relative minor and is eventually dragged back down to an insistent C minor subject at E. After much pondering around F and C minor, a grudgingly won F major sinks directly to F minor. The flighty triplet theme lifts its head in disbelief at L, now in F major, the proper key of

the symphony. But it too succumbs to its own brilliance, to none other than Db major, which quickly reverts to F minor in a repeat of the subject from E. In the symphonys darkest moments, after the repeated violation of the overdue F major, the clouds begin to clear and the sky opens up with a reharmonization of the finales opening motive. The first few notes are toyed with over a suddenly less menacing accompaniment, and the viola at m. 252 dares to recite the entire theme in the same triplets as the unsuccessful C major theme at C. The C major chord in m. 260 is the turning point, hesitantly adding a dominant seventh chord which briefly resolves to F in m. 262. The finale opening motto (#12) returns now harmonized to the under third Db, not unlike the Allegro con brio. The harmonization in sixths and thirds is much sweeter, but maintains the mystery of the three adjacent semitones until C reappears in m. 266it was not an anomaly before. The progression Bb maj7 G7 F7 in mm. 269-71 is vaguely reminiscent of the opening few measures of the symphony, with a more benign feel. The entrance of the motto in m. 273 reinforces the modulations by chromatic thirds found in the Allegro con brio, notably with Bb Gb in m. 273. The chorale from P to the end is mostly diatonic to F major, with the obvious inclusion of Db major and f7 in mm. 297-300, to facilitate the final cadence to F in m. 301. In m. 293, Eb refers to the prevalence of C minor throughout the symphony. In this instance, the Eb belongs to a secondary dominant that does not resolve, and appropriately raises the half step to become the leading tone to F in a C7 chord.

Rhythm While the consideration of harmony provides one view of the unification of Brahms F major symphony, it is by no means complete without further thematic, rhythmic, and affective introspection. Brahms is known in his music, especially in the other symphonies, for metrical complexity, which often entails ambiguity. But the degree to which he stretches the rhythmic expectations of the classical symphonic form is astounding, perhaps another valid reason to distance the composer from the Beethoven totem. Not only does the rhythmic craftsmanship of the Third Symphony provide contrast, but it maintains a unification and evolution within the work, both independently and in conjunction with thematic and harmonic congruencies. The first movement is the most metrically diverse, establishing expectations which are played out throughout the course of the symphony. From the outset, the 6/4 meter is a catalyst for uncertainty. The melody of m. 3 can easily be understood in terms of two or three beats per measure, the only discrimination of which is a timpani strike on the fourth quarter note of the measure. As of m. 7, the changing of woodwind and lower string chords define a measure divided by dotted halves, convoluted already by m. 10 in the clarinets, contrabassoon, cellos, and basses. At A we find the first of many ambiguous barlines and implied irregular meters. Melodies and accompaniments are often crafted such that James Thurmonds arsis-thesis relationships can be shifted by half a measure, and the phrase takes on all new meaning and direction. What is perceived as the inhale/tensioning of a phrase might also be understood

as the exhale/release. Brahms often includes phrase-shaping dynamics to remedy the potential confusion. See score and theme reduction for details of particular passages. In mm. 28-35, staccato quarter notes straddling written barlines are a taste of the eventual shift of perceived barlines to come. Like these cadential motives, the new theme at m. 36 instills uncertainty as to where the stress belongs, elegantly and surprisingly divided by the pianissimo of m. 38 and making the net affect that much more beautiful. The three versus two conflict from the opening can be understood across micro and macro levels, corresponding with internal beats and those representing tempo. The switch to 9/4 in m. 36 swings to the favor of 3s, even though the passage is by no means purely in a thrice divided 9 (see score). As discussed below in the conducting section, passages where the barlines have made a perceived shift serve double meaning; each note must be understood both in terms of its written location and felt location in the bar for the counterpoint to be fully effective mm. 51-76 is an ideal example. The movements opening theme is felt most naturally in three at H. From m. 109, a strong sense of half note beats is given in the second horn and cello, which naturally leads an ear to perceive the return of the theme, unaccompanied, as such. For the first time in m. 116, three half notes are written in the second trombone, opposing the established notation of tied quarter notes across the midline of the bar. In a subtle twist, dotted quarter-eighth figures, the epitome of duple time, dominate mm. 116-19 just as the three feeling of the theme is most prevalent. As the already sostenuto tempo slows, the half note pulse will come to resemble the previous dotted half, implying a four-against-three polyrhythm that nicely

compliments the unfolding menagerie of keys. Similarly, the offset barlines of mm. 216-19 conflict appropriately with the return of the F f7 progression that changes with the written measures. The Allegro con brio establishes the three-versus-two conflict, to be explored and resolved in the unfolding of the symphony. At the beginning and end, the Andante is a pillar of duple stability, thrown into confusion by the contrasting middle section (see proportional analysis). Brahms remains in 4/4 time, but begins to blur barlines in m. 28 with accents on weak beats. By figure C and up through the return of the opening material at D, the metric location of the thematic material (#8) is perfectly ambiguous. This lack of clarity highlights the melodys failure to reference the motto of the first movement, as well as its foreign introduction of G#/Ab, C#/Db, and triplets to spoil the purity of duple C major. Further conflicting triplets occur in the tipsy interpretation of the opening theme at D, in the accompaniment of verbatim original material of mm. 101-7, and the replacement second theme at F. All of these examples create tense polyrhythms within the beat. The instability and lack of recapitulation of the second subject will be addressed with its reappearance in the finale, not least in its answer to the three-versus-two conflict. The opening melody of the Poco Allegretto is a pure triple until the phrase is extended past the traditional eight measures. Just as the second movement takes up the duple side of the first with C major, the third explores the triple with C minor. The extension of the phrase from 8 bars to 12, including an elision in m. 8, creates the customary offset barlines and some hint of duple meter (see score for different interpretations at mm. 6-10 and 20-23). On a micro level, 16th note triplets in violins contrast square 16th notes in violas, melody, and

countermelody (cello mm. 13-), perpetuating the conflict through the length of the movement. The trio, beginning at C, manages an unsettling shift of barline one eighth note to the left. Again, the arsis-thesis properties of the resulting layout need to be internalized both as read and as felt. It is important to note that the cello enters one 16th behind the winds in m. 52, as it does with the countermelody in m. 13, one 16th after the downbeat of the melody. This is a supporting argument, along with the placement of the decrescendo and slur, that beat three throughout the trio is not an anacrusis, but the stressed point of the bar. Hints of 3/4 time, stressed across two 3/8 bars, occur in mm. 91-98, suggesting a triple feel on the macro level and a duple feel on the micro. The coda, beginning at figure I, features alternating offset and correctly placed 3/8 bars, with luscious, pure 2/4 in mm. 156-60 to round out the movement. With a return in sentiment of the first movement, the Allegro finale epitomizes duple meter in its agitated, minor moments, featuring dotted rhythms and accented eighth notes occupying the and of beat four. Nearly convincing the listener that this grave rigidity is the true substance of an F minor symphony, Brahms releases awkward utterances of major mode triplets. The first such interlude at A features an Ab major triad neighbored by minor sixth and seventh scale degrees, remaining very much the mediant of F minor. The motive is, of course, the forgotten second subject of the Andante, rudely interrupted at B by continuing F minor desperation. As suggested above, the fleeting triplet C major melody (and later transpositions) is notoriously unstable. From a rhythmic standpoint, the busily walking bass line, in quarters against the melodys quarter note triplets, is no way to sustain a key.

The ensuing buildup contains both duple and triple elements, becoming increasingly menacing until the mood swing at N, where the finales opening motive is translated to triplets, foreseeing the coming chorale. The last throes of the minor buildup of the fourth movement are worked out in their original duple form, and the fundamental elements of the symphony remain: The opening motto from the first movement, the unresolved second subject of the Andante, and the first four notes of the finales opening motive. The product is soberly duple, but the triple holds validity in colorful chords before relinquishing to the finales opening theme at m. 297. One final ambiguity arises at the return of the symphonys opening theme at m. 302. The alternation of quarter and half note tremolos in the first violin can be shaped into 3/4 sections, reminiscent of the 6/4 versus 3/2 dichotomy in that location.

Theme For a comparison of the symphonys thematic material, see attached pages. There is little doubt that the themes in the F major symphony relate in functional analysis. It has been said that Brahms melodies are often reminiscent of folk tunes and even unoriginal. Whether intentional or not, the themes of the Third Symphony coincide in their pleasing balance of long and short notes, varying expanse within and outside of the octave, ambiguous or dual-meaning momentum, and relation to the opening motto. While comparison of themes can be enlightening, P.A. Browne writes concerning the resemblance of Brahms themes to other material, The explanation may lie partly in a kind

of unconscious cerebration, partly in a recognition by Brahms that the treatment of a theme is what identifies and characterizes a composer far more than the theme itself(13). One facet of the opening motto heeds discussion. After the ascension of the opening motto in mm. 1-2 (through the minor third), an insistent pulling down of the high F occurs repeatedly in the theme. The descending fourth becomes a characteristic of the distant high note, a far reach from Brahms typical low tessitura, and first leap of the sweeping downward arpeggio of mm. 3-4. The upward motion of the subject at A starts on an A and ends unresolved in an interrupted manner. The second theme of the movement at m. 36 returns to address the note, now F#, but rises only simply, to noodle within a sixth of the starting F#. The horn solo featuring the motto as a new melody at G also fails to sustain the top note, descending characteristically through a perfect fourth. The result of all this comes in the last measures of the symphony. The final chord has a single flute on high F, having arrived there via the motto in mm. 299-301. The second flute remains on the A of the motto, now natural, a full sixth below the first flute. These are the only two players above the staff in the final chord, giving an instability to the high F that beckons for its descent into the C below, if not lower. There is, in fact, only one player on the fifth of the chord, C, in the octave below thata clarinet. The oboe and violins noticeably avoid it. If the rest of the symphony did not cast doubt onto the sincerity of frei aber froh, here is one more opportunity.

HISTORY AND STYLE

Despite having fashioned a sound that could come from none other than his own pen, critics and supporters find it irresistible to rationalize and often trivialize Brahms music in relation to Beethoven and borrowed thematic material. According to Burnett James, some ardent Brahms supporters refer to the C minor symphony as the Tenth, while he prefers to liken the composers music with Bach and Haydn. While the evolution of style is necessarily a product of historythe hour produces the manit is somewhat pointless to conceive a persons work by bits and pieces of other individuals achievements, in ignorance of the Gestalt that makes up a composers personality. In addition to being viewed through the eyes of the past, Brahms assumed a style that divided him from his contemporaries, namely Richard Wagner. The progressive ideals of Wagner, Liszt, and Brckner, among others, acknowledged the great masters of the past but aimed to take their music to a different plane. Brahms was content with the formal ideals of his ancestors, namely counterpoint, symphonic and sonata form, and orchestration. Brahms completed counterpoint exercises throughout his lifetime, and was particularly enamored with the release of the Bachgesellschaft Edition. But conservatism on somewhat superficial levels does not predispose him to composition in a stagnant, unoriginal style. Utilizing an orchestra identical to that of Beethoven and a symphonic form very similar, Brahms crafted a unique voice that transcends ancestry, without feeling the need to fabricate wild new forms to embody his musical ideas. Nor was he oblivious to the juxtaposition of structured, diatonic classicism with new age, liberated romanticism. He

borrowed from the subtle genius of both, but only to a point where each side could still declare him outcast. Brahms struggled early in life with the conflict, most notably in the fluidity of the Ballades and rigidity of the Serenades. P.A. Browne writes, The dominant characteristics of the symphonies are intellectual and spiritual power and depth rather than sensuous beauty or startling brilliance(13). The criticism that Brahms music is purely academic, contrapuntal contraptions belonging in the past, ignores the emotion laden within frameworks that were historically devoid of such sentimentality. It is that the affect of much of Brahms music is not readily characterized, to the point that it can be considered cold in its reluctance to be identified in terms of conscious, surface feelings. The symphonies were composed rather late in life, at the age of 40 for publication of the first, an indicator to Barnett James that each is a product of a fully matured composer. That there is evolution of Brahms craft in using the orchestra as a voice between the first and fourth there is no doubt, but the composer was in no hurry to step into the world of symphonic composition. The First Symphony was some 20 years in the making, followed within a year by the Second. This and the notion that he was also reluctant to compose string quartets until later in maturity, point to the idea that Brahms was acutely aware of his social responsibility to succeed Beethoven. The Third Symphony was composed in a matter of months in 1883 at the mountains of Weisbaden. It was premiered to great acclaim by Hans Richter in Vienna, with drowned-out hisses from the minority Wagner school present. The unprecedented unification of the F major symphony is matched by an avoidance of traditional key progressions: modulation by thirds, reluctance to move to the dominant, and a minor third

movement and mostly minor finale. A relatively brief total length is characterized by significant inner movements, which are primarily responsible for developing the symphonys fundamental material. At the surface of interpretation floats the enigmatic F-A-F: frei aber froh: free but glad. It is a variation of Brahms friend Josef Joachims F-A-E: frei aber einsam: free but lonely. The F-A-F motto can also be found in Brahms second Ballade for piano, Op. 10 No. 2, but existing in a much simpler context. The first mystery is the opposition of free and glad with aber. If that uncertainty alone were not sufficiently perfect to characterize the Third Symphony, the A is given as Ab in its introduction in the second measure, harmonized by a diminished seventh chord which also includes the pitch F. In subsequent statements of this motto, a fourth note B is often added (though usually in transposition), to harshly split the octave Fs symmetrically in half by a tritone. Through all the appearances of the motto throughout the work, the tritone split and diminished seventh chord remain in the last bars of the symphony. 1-3-7 (F-A-E) does make an appearance in mm. 2-4 of the Poco Allegretto, in the unusual and ethereal minor which is the emotional climax of the symphony. Likewise, one wonders if Brahms had a word for F-A-D (1-3-6), which appears frequently as a compression of frei aber froh. The seemingly nave statement of being free and happy is further characterized by the prevalence of minor keys and the constant violation of innocent, major themes: the modal ambiguity of the opening theme in the first movement, the replacement of the C major Andante with the C minor Allegretto, and the repeated decay of the flighty C major triplet theme of the finale.

ORCHESTRATION

The orchestration of the Third Symphony can be considered typical of Brahms and fairly conservative. The instrumentation is unchanged from that of Beethoven, whose last symphony was written 55 years before Brahms first. Brahms contemporaries, such as Wagner and Brckner, had been using ensembles of massive proportions and any number of extra instruments. Natural trumpets and horns are called for even though valved versions were available. Double basses capable of low C were also in existence, though Brahms never wrote below E. The timpani is the only percussive instrument despite the appearance of significant batteries in other German music of the time. Brahms tendency to write in a low tessitura is characteristic of his orchestral voice. Considering the warmth of gut strings used, the result is a rich, dark sound which some might say compliments his tendency toward gloom. Much of the first movement contains concrete woodwind chords supporting sweeping motives in the strings, including brief leaps into their upper registers. Horns and trumpets, characteristic of their natural form, are employed mainly to give weight to chords, excepting of course the majestic horn solos in the first and third movements. Here the horn contributes a powerful, yet solitary sound. Trombones appear only sparingly until the coda of the finale, where they play a central role in bringing the symphony to a close, perhaps a reference to their traditional role in religious exaltation. The heavy brass do have concise chordal statements at the end of the first and second movements, and use their force to punctuate the more dramatic cadential sections of the Allegro con brio (m. 69,178). This stoicism from the opening, rife with passion but sparse

in sentiment, will return in the finale. It is contrasted meanwhile with the textures of the first movements second subject (m. 36) and the majority of the inner movements. A reference to chamber music is appropriate for these passages, with clearly outlined lyrical melodies supported by simple, uniform accompaniments. The introduction in the first movement of a folk-reminiscent, playful melody (m. 36) is a stark contrast to the wall of orchestral sound experienced from the opening bars. The Andante again features as its spokesman the clarinet, in elegant simplicity. In quartet with the bassoons, the opening maintains the luscious, overtone-rich timbre in the otherwise bright key of C major. The strings play a supporting role except for their short-lived emotional outbursts at mm. 28-32 and mm. 108-115. Where the Andante features the winds in simplicity and navet in C major, the Poco Allegretto unleashes the strings in all their pathos in a distant and depressed C minor. The compass rarely takes the string players above the staff in their futile, curt ostinatos. Not until the last statement of the melody (m. 138) do the violins divide into high octaves, sweetened further by a third octave of cellos and the sighs exhaled by descending flute and oboe. At m. 156, all of the treble instruments collectively inhale in thick, parallel chords, over the top but not quite to the high C, before a final sigh into C minor in m. 159-61. After the lush outcry of the Allegretto, the finale brings a return to the ambivalence and candor of the opening Allegro. The majority of the movement utilizes the full force of the Groes Orchester, with powerful and sustained accompaniments, homophonic realizations of motives across sections, apostrophizing syncopations, and intense string arpeggios and scales. When the mood changes at N, the gravity is lost and light textures prepare the return

of the symphonys opening motto among last conversations of thematic fragments. With the start of the coda at P, muted strings assume the vernacular groundcover as the winds and brass unite in chorale. The emotion is simply not suited for words (absolute music at its finest), except for the understanding that the affect of all of the previous music is now present simultaneously.

Brahms was notably open to variations in orchestra size and seating. His Second and Third Symphonies premiered in the large orchestra of Vienna and the Fourth the small, intimate Meiningen ensemble, all with results agreeable to the composer.1 Given the strength in projection of modern strings, I would utilize a smaller string section to achieve optimum balance. The importance of the unique wind and brass timbre throughout the Third Symphony demands an equal voice between the three. If a traditional seating style was required, I would opt for antiphonal violins as it would have been done in Brahms day. The frequent alternation between string parts, especially in accompaniments, would prompt a more balanced, stereo violin sound. Brahms did give approval of a more unconventional seating plan, where each of the sections is spread evenly across the stage from left to right.

Walter Frisch, Brahms: The Four Symphonies. Schirmer Books, 1996.

CONDUCTING

I.

A balance between showing the large, compound 6/4 and the immense detail

contained within it must be maintained. A broad two-beat pattern (.=56) will show the contour and progress of the large phrase, while strict rhythmic accuracy should be implied to keep the lower strings together from the opening. It is customary to take a little time on the anacruses to mm. 5, 7, and similar measures, so a clear beat two and predictable momentum toward the next downbeat should be given prior to these rubatos. Likewise, the final quarter note of mm. 19, 20, etc. must be placed accurately within the large beat. The repeat of the exposition should be taken, both for proportion of the movement and content. Modulations to Db and A will be more meaningful the second time through, after having returned to F. Interruption of momentum in the first ending by the return of the motto will make that realization and the subsequent minor theme even more powerful through the second ending. Throughout the movement and the symphony as a whole, the conductor must respect Brahms metrical ambiguities, both in offset barlines and implied foreign meters (especially hemiola). The trouble begins in m. 3, where a quick, even accompaniment does not establish a strong point in the measure, supporting a theme that can be understood in 6/4 or 3/2a struggle addressed throughout the work. Of utmost importance to the conductor is that the musicians understand where barlines occur. While the notation may be limiting to Brahms grand metrical scheme, it is necessary for communication between conductor and players. The baton tip must place the barline and subdivisions of the

measure consistently, while subtleties of accentuation are given in combination of wrist, arm, elbow, left hand, eyes, and head. A psychological division between formal beat structure and actual phrasing accents needs to be well established and articulated. Metrical ambiguities should be nurtured in this music so that later resolution is meaningful. A balance between a melodys independent phrase structure and its setting within a meter will allow tension and uncertainty to be resolved by Brahms superior craftsmanship. The scalar motive in mm. 15-18 gives perfect uncertainty as to where a barline is located, but a conductors sense of shape and sensitivity to accompanying figures will reward the listener with a convincing downbeat at m. 19. Likewise, the second subject entering at m. 36 gives no definite sense of meter, but is punctuated beautifully by a pianissimo in its third bar, which must be a clearly contrasting volume from the preceding piano. The layout of descending arpeggios mm. 51-58 describe both offset barlines and dual eighth-note pickups to the actual barlines, as written. To favor one of the above impressions does not serve the duality of the counterpoint. This is true of all such metrical shifting throughout the symphony; while the ear may be completely convinced of a shifted downbeat, the brain should maintain a relative sense of the movements universal pulse. The epitome is found in mm. 70-76 , where the written barline is the weakest point of the measure, which is shifted fully one quarter note left. Beat one should be shown with the baton as appropriate gestures are given to encourage accents on beats 6 and 3. The overall affect would not be the same had Brahms aligned the barlines with the actual phrase, even with the subtle shift using a weak extra quarter at the end of m. 76. See score for many other ambiguous passages.

Measures 112-119 represent the height of the movements hemiola, a section that I would conduct in 3: the entire texture supports half note beats (prepared by horn and cello mm. 109-111), the ritard would be easier to control, and the slowed half note resembles the length of the Tempo I dotted half in m. 120. The result would be an interesting transition from a duple-16th divided beat to a triple-8th divided beat.

II.

The opening of the Andante requires showing subtlety of dynamics to the level of

rhythmic subtlety in the first movement. The alternation in timbre from winds to strings in the opening bars requires foremost control of total orchestral dynamics: in m. 4, the sum of the winds final note and the strings first note must not result in a total volume higher than the established piano. The decrescendo in the clarinet in m. 6 is a warm accent on the F, trailing through the next few notes. The same occurs in m. 16, where the decrescendo is a slight accentthe phrase does not fade in to the pianissimo in beat 4. Rather, like the second subject in the opening movement, the dynamic contrast must be sudden, punctuating the phrase. The conductor must not give indication of the pp too soon; stillness might even be the most effective way of achieving the pp, a lack of motion where it was expected into beat 4. String entrances in m. 20 and 22-23 are now pp, and the players must be shown in their cue that the dynamic at which they will enter is not the dynamic that they are hearing in the winds, like it was before. The busier and thicker texture at B should total the established piano, despite more motion and more instruments playing. Unlike many recordings I have heard, I believe that the oboe entrance should preserve the tranquility from the opening, to be transcended with

the crescendo in m. 25. This entire section up to C should never pass the written forte dynamic, since the emotional level in this movement is so much more innocent than the previous Allegro con brio. From C to D, metrical ambiguity should be nurtured until the tipsy, love-drunk elaboration of the opening theme. At E a hesitant stasis is maintained until the recapitulation is realized in m. 85. I would push the tempo slightly here to regain momentum, and pull it back to below the initial tempo (=66) at the eighth note triplets and mysterious long note at F. The clarinet solo at m. 122 is the movements concluding thoughts and should be taken at the opening tempo.

III.

The Poco Allegretto is the emotional peak of the symphony and must not be hurried in

its sentimentality. Nearly every recording I have consulted does not give full value to the first and third full measures of the melody. Giving these measures three full beats exudes the timeless-ethereal quality of the movement, and prepares the listener for the great sighs of the following bars (m. 2,4). The contour of the melody craves to be felt in one beat per measure, but the tempo (=72) requires that 3 beats be outlined. Rubato should be given to accentuate some of the musical sighs (but not all) and to separate them slightly from the following anacrusis. The gesture of m. 8 that bridges the phrase (furthermore) can be pushed in a subtle acceleration to give meaning to the rest of the melody. The theme of this movement becomes a fixture and should share a duet with the countermelody, appearing first in the cello at m. 13 and later in the winds. On a fundamental level, the movement is incredibly simple and does not require great assertion

from the conductor; in parts it plays as chamber music (with competent musicians). The ground tempo should be stable while rubatos and accelerandos weave among the underlying pulse. Fluctuations of tempo, swelling dynamics, shapes of phrases, and clarity of offset barlines and embedded 2/4 bars are the primary concerns of the conductor. Each of the last three measures of the movement must be given full value; the contrast of the implied 2/4 bars mm. 156-60 needs resolution in light of the movements overwhelmingly triple meter.

IV.

Rhythmically, the Allegro finale is the most straightforward movement of the

=

symphony. A tempo around

92 remains fairly stable with little rubato until Un Poco

Sostenuto, which can be more flexible surrounding the chorale. While the lining up of polyrhythms between sections could prove difficult, the most significant challenge of the finale is to present a coherent conclusion to the symphony. Themes bearing polarized affects alternate in a stream-of-consciousness manner reflective of the progression from monumental first movement to sweet and simple woodwinds of the Andante and unearthly emotion in the strings of the Allegretto. A conductor must maintain a symphony-wide sense of tempo (momentum), dynamics, and character in order to exhibit the unity of the work as a whole. The result in the finale will be heavily contrasting themes with very different characters, synergized by the grand yet humble coda chorale. With the return of thematic material from the symphonys first measures, the whole piece could be considered preparation for the final 33 bars.

CONCLUSION
I feel that I now have an intimate knowledge of the score, including both technical and metaphysical ideas about the piece. The deeper I get, though, the more I realize that there is an infinite array of information about the symphony, the percentage of which I know less and less. The ideas evolve from being practical and traditional to a level that borders on the subconscious brain. As the work becomes a coherent whole in my mind, I find the emotional exploration of the piece to become very human. Listening to a variety of recordings was in the beginning very helpful, but I eventually found myself wanting to spend time with the score alone. The aid of recordings to build a tonal picture of the symphony in my head was very useful, but limiting in the ways I would imagine conducting the piece differently. The piano would not have been much help considering my playing ability, but I found that singing the themes was very helpful, especially when they would randomly pop into my head wherever I happened to be. Mental organization of themes, especially in the early morning and late at night, verging on sleep, turned out to be a crucial step in my better understanding the piece. The opportunity to hear the piece repeatedly live would, of course, have been the best way to learn the subtleties of the piece. Being a member of the ensemble (especially as a trombone player) gives a unique vantage point, especially being able to hear the maturation of the piece through rehearsal and slight adjustments in interpretation from the conductor. I would feel comfortable conducting the piece on the level of understanding and interpreting. Since there is a limitless number of ways to read the musical meaning of the symphony, I feel I have viewed it from enough angles to be able to put together a coherent

interpretation. In conducting technique and knowledge of the intricacies of the orchestra I would feel greatly unprepared. Brahms obviously had great knowledge of his instrument, the orchestra, with which he made countless technical decisions in writing the symphony. I would want a better understanding of these technicalities probably taken for granted by experienced conductors.

BIBLIOGRAPHY
P.A. Browne, Brahms: The Symphonies. Oxford University Press, 1948. James Burnett, Brahms: A Critical Study. Praeger Publishers, 1972. Norman Del Mar, Conducting Brahms. Oxford University Press, 1993. Walter Frisch, Brahms: The Four Symphonies. Schirmer Books, 1996. Julius Harrison, Brahms and His Four Symphonies. Da Capo Press, 1971. John Horton, Brahms: Orchestral Music. University of Washington Press, 1968. James Morgan Thurmond, Note Grouping: A Method for Achieving Expression and Style in Musical Performance. Meredith Music Publications, 1991. Roger Sessions, The musical experience of composer, performer, listener. Princeton University Press, 1971.