This post is as much a philosophical discussion of what a symphony is, or should be, as it is a review of two symphonies, so I’ve posted it under both Essays and Recording Reviews. While I was compiling my list of favorite symphonies and preparing to teach a new course on the symphony, I realized I needed to bring my knowledge of contemporary (post-Stravinsky) symphonies up to speed. So while accumulating recordings for my library, I began organizing my thoughts around what it means to compose a symphony – what are my expectations when I listen to a work titled “symphony”.
While the conventional, simplistic definition of a symphony as a musical form is “a work for orchestra in multiple movements.”¹, we used to be able to assume much more about a work with that title. Through the Classical Period and much of the Romantic Period, one could expect a symphony to have four movements. The first and often the last would be in the classic sonata allegro form and would be set in the “home” key. The inner two movements would typically be shorter than the outer two. One inner movement would be significantly slower and in binary form, the other would be dance-like (minuet, minuet and trio) or at least lighter in nature. Both would be in keys related to the home key, relative minor/major, sub-dominant, dominant, etc. All of these quantitative properties of the symphony would, eventually, be bent or discarded – the musical form symphony being molded to suit the composers desires and needs. Works with the title “symphony” have been composed with more and less than four movements. They may take on any formal structure, employ various key relationships between movements, and be composed for ensembles other than an orchestra. I’m fine with all of that.
There are two qualitative properties of a symphony, that, for me, cannot be discounted or ignored. First, I expect that a composer undertaking the task of writing a symphony, does so because he has something musically significant to say. That is not to say a symphony cannot be lighthearted or humorous – that it must be dark and deeply philosophical. I do expect, however, that it not be cliché, trite, simplistic or process-obvious. To compose a symphony, is in effect, to submit a work as an application for membership into the community of symphony composers that have gone before: to wish to stand among the likes of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, Schumann, Schubert, Mahler, Bruckner, Tchaikovsky, Shostakovich, Stravinsky – the list is too long to go on.
The second quality I expect hear when I listen to a symphony is craftsmanship. I believe the symphony to be a musical creation to which the composer brings all the skills he possess to bear – his musicianship, creativity, sensitivity and sense of drama – in order to make his case; to present, in the most convincing way he knows how, those musically significant thoughts he wants the world to hear. In order to do so – to create a symphony – a composer endeavors to show he is a master of his craft. These are the qualities by which I judge a work imbued with the title “symphony.” All to often I find the label “symphony” has been hijacked and applied to unworthy compositions in an effort to elevate their status. The point I’m trying to get across is that composing a symphony is not a task to be taken lightly, on a whim, or in order to simply check off an item on one’s bucket list.
With these thoughts in mind, I set out to discover what Glenn Branca’s Symphony No. 3 and Christopher Theofanidis’ Symphony No. 1 had to offer.
Glenn Branca: Symphony No. 3 (1983)
© 1993 Atavistic Worldwide
Rating: 0.5 out of 5
Quoting Glenn Branca from the CD liner notes, “The [harmonic] series is a natural phenomenon which exists as a physical manifestation of symmetry and form. The existence alone of this language in nature seems to explain itself as a reflection of its own logic. The existence of this language as music seems to indicate music as reflection of the movement of its own sound waves – not a symbolic, but a literal expression of dynamic symmetry in time. Ideally, every aspect of the tuning, instrument design, compositional structure and performance should reflect the logic of the harmonic series.”²
Well, that’s a lot to digest. I’m always suspicious of composers who feel the need to explain their work in terms of a philosophical ideal of what music is or should be. I can’t tell you if Branca’s Symphony No. 3 reflects “the logic of the harmonic series” as he states it should. To do so would require me to devote a significant amount of time in analysis (double meaning intended.) I can tell you that I heard very little in the way of craftsmanship. The work sounds as if it was written by or based on an algorithm and in my mind, algorithms are shorts cuts around creativity and inspiration. What Branca has to say in Symphony No. 3, he says only loudly and repeatedly. While the composition is largely monochromatic and static, there are perceptible undulations in color and texture. I assume that’s the point of the work, but I tired of it quickly. Please understand, while I don’t care for the work, I’m not saying it has no purpose or makes no contribution to art. I’m just saying it’s not a symphony.
Christopher Theofanidis: Symphony No. 1 (2009)
© 2011 Atlanta Symphony Orchestra
Rating: 4.5 out of 5
Let me begin this review of Christopher Theofanidis’ Symphony No. 1 by saying I eagerly anticipate Symphony No. 2. This is truly a work worthy of the name “symphony”. It’s worth noting, I think, that Theofanidis waited to composed this, his first symphony, until 2009 when he was 42. There is so much to like in this work: Theofanidis’ expansive orchestral palette, his sense of pace and drama, his thematic and motivic development – so much of his craftsmanship is apparent.
No lengthy explanation or defense of the work is required. It is not necessary that I know the composer’s motivation – the feelings and thoughts that directed his efforts when composing the work, interesting and informative as they may be. Theofanidis communicates his thoughts effectively so that I am able to hear what he says musically. A melding of that with what I have experienced in my own musical life, informs my understanding of the work. Message received.
¹ Symphony, The Harvard Dictionary of Music 4th Edition, (Cambridge, MA, The Belknap Press of Harvard University, 2003), p856, ISBN: 0-674-01163-5.
² Glenn Branca, Symphony No. 3 (Gloria), (Chicago, IL, Atavistic Worldwide, 1993), Audio CD liner notes.