Sergei Rachmaninov was at the height of his popularity in 1906, winged by the popularity of his Second Piano Concerto of 1901 and his early C sharp minor Prelude. During this time he composed such major works as the First Piano Sonata, the symphonic poem "The Isle of the Dead", Op.29, the 18 songs of Op.26, and most importantly, the Second Symphony in E minor, Op.27. This work was Rachmaninov's first attempt at a symphony in eleven years, after his First Symphony (a work that the composer really wanted to forget, going so far as to forbid its publication and performance) bombed at its premiere. He began the Second Symphony in October 1906, right after he and his family had settled in the peaceful surroundings of Dresden. It was finished in rough draft by early 1907, but work on it progressed slowly. Rachmaninov, who never fully recovered from his early failure, complained about the lack of interest he had for the new symphony, with the orchestration in particular proving laborious and difficult. He often wrote about the gestation of the symphony and in a letter to Nikita Morozov he wrote about his works: "As for the quality of all these things, I must say that the worst of all is the Symphony. When I get it written and then correct my First Symphony, I give you my solemn word - no more symphonies. Curse them! I don't know how to write them, but mainly, I don't want to." The Second Symphony was finished in April 1907 and was dedicated to Sergei Taneyev. The first performance took place on January 26, 1908 in St.Petersburg under the composer's direction.
The Second Symphony is an extended work, full of lyrical invention and glorious string writing. While listening to the work, it is really difficult to hear those creative struggles Rachmaninov talked about. If anything, it is pure Rachmaninov at his emotive high, with exciting climaxes, tenderly flowing melodies and tinged with that characteristic Russian melancholy and pessimism found almost everywhere in the output of the composer. The work is in the traditional four movements, with the Scherzo placed second. The entire symphony is rooted with a somber motto theme, moving like a phantom through the whole work, at times on the surface, at times beneath it, appearing in many guises, brooding and melancholy, urgent and agitated, grand and triumphant. In addition to this the motto also originates much of the new material, or at least material sounding fairly similar to the motto. Structurally the work bears a close affinity to Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony, also in E minor. In that work there is also a motto theme that moves through the work, although Rachmaninov's use of the device is much more subtle than Tchaikovsky's. Tchaikovsky's method is using the motto as an idée fixe in the Berliozian fashion, more or less simply quoting it in different places, and finally using it as the basis of the E major finale. Rachmaninov on the other hand integrates it more tightly into the fabric, the motto sometimes being almost unnoticeable, therefore making it technically a more satisfying work.
The performance history of this work has not been an easy one. The expansiveness of the symphony has tempted many conductors to make cuts in the work, ranging from petty impatiences
to some very large mutilations. The standard for many years was with the so called "29 Stransky cuts", made by the conductor Josef Stransky and supposedly approved by the composer himself. Leslie J. Rogers asked Rachmaninov whether he wanted cuts made, to which the composer had responded that he had no objections about cuts being made if it was thought that it would improve the work, although he himself would probably have presented the symphony complete. It is also well known that Rachmaninov himself often made cuts to his own works like the Third and Fourth Piano Concertos, the Second Piano Sonata, as well as many other works, so his passiveness about the Symphony's many cuts can well be understood. The new harmonic innovations made by his fellow countryman Alexander Scriabin in the 1910s and the complete dismissal of Rachmaninov's music in the progressive 1920s and '30s as "old-fashioned" (which of course is true when compared with the really progressive music of the time), caused much harm to his music. After Rachmaninov's death there were only a few works that were regularly performed, and he was mostly considered as just another forgettable anomaly in the history of music. The Second Symphony continued to be performed in its mutilated condition up until 1971, when André Previn, after performing the work with the cuts, decided to reinstate every single bar for the performances during his tours around the world at that time. In 1973 Previn recorded the work for EMI and ever since that historical recording took place, the work has been generally performed complete, even to the lengths of including the exposition repeat. Today the Second Symphony is one of the most beloved compositions of Rachmaninov and it continues to remain popular among the majority of listeners.
- - MOVEMENT BY MOVEMENT ANALYSIS - -
I. Largo - Allegro moderato
The symphony opens with a long introduction in the cellos and basses, pianissimo, presenting the work's motto theme that will resurface throughout the symphony. The winds answer the low strings with an imitation on the first three chords, that is followed by a full presentation of the motto in melancholy strings. This flowing, descending pattern is repeated again a step lower which brings us back to the opening measures on the lower strings. The section is repeated again and it is followed by rapidly succeeding imitations on the motto, slowly working its way to a climax from where we descend rapidly to the close of the introduction. The melodic flow of this introduction is absolutely gorgeous, with the layered strings creating a wonderful surge of passionate feeling. As the strings descend, a lonesome cor anglais ruminates briefly on the events just passed, bringing the introduction to a close. Soft tremolando strings play a fragment of a rising scale and begin the exposition. The first theme is yet another variant on the motto theme, urgent and forward-thrusting, at times passionately romantic, at others excitedly agitated. The clarinet signals the appearance of the second subject, a more gentle and pleasant melody in G major, though it too has tendencies to grow very impassioned. And even though this theme sounds new, the shadow of the motto can be heard flitting in and out of the fabric, yearning to the darker E minor. One of Rachmaninov's ever-descending bass lines brings the exposition to a close, after which the composer asks for the exposition to be repeated, although this direction is rarely followed. The development begins with the motto theme, intoned by a solo violin, followed by a brief stormy orchestral exclamation. This is again repeated, with the violin being repalced by flutes, after which the stormy music is allowed to expand. There is a small pause followed by some fateful brass chords with the cellos playing the motto in the background. The storm begins to stir. The strings get more vehement, with the brass getting more prominent as the heart of the storm approaches. This is followed by some semi-triumphant fanfares, but they don't sound reassuring, with the motto again showing up in the background. Suddenly the music gathers more vehemence than ever, reaching a tremendous climax with crashing cymbals, swirling strings and brass ejaculations. After this the storm subsides, exhausted, and reaching the home key of E. But instead of the first theme, we get the second theme (the G major theme that is). In fact, the fragments we heard in the tempest are the closest we are going to get to the opening theme. Rachmaninov extends this theme to great lengths, indulging in the glorious romantic feelings of this theme. The coda brings back the stormy music for a moment that extends into a very powerful ending, with the last E minor chord being followed by a thump on low E with cellos and basses alone. This last thump I have found to be a little too grotesque and irrelevant to really sound good, making me wonder why Rachmaninov decided to end the first movement in this way instead of that last E minor chord before it.
II. Allegro molto
Next in line is the Scherzo in A minor, a thoroughly vivid and energetic movement, quite uncharacteristic of Rachmaninov. It opens with galloping strings, accompanied by trombones and quick surging woodwind trills, with the glockenspiel adding a nice touch a little later. This energetic main part is soon followed by one of those big romantic tunes that Rachmaninov is known so well for, relaxing the proceedings for a while. This tune is followed by a kind of stalking transition back to the driving main theme which, however, soon disintegrates and brings the main scherzo part to a close. There is a small pause, followed by an unexpected and very loud cymbal smash (be aware if you don't want to get stratled), signalling the beginning of the Trio section. This is a brilliant fugue, began by the second violins and based on the main Scherzo, with traces of the motto thrown in. There is even a pseudo-militaristic march heard, complete with snare drum, cymbals and an optimistic happy-go-lucky attitude. After the horns and trumpets begin an excitement building moment there follows a tremendous crescendo that brings back the main Scherzo with minor alterations. As the Scherzo is nearing its end, it is capped off by the most explicit reference of the motto, played very solemnly by the brass, sounding very liturgical, and the movement is brought to a quiet pianissimo conclusion.
III. Adagio
The A major Adagio is one of Rachmaninov's finest achievements, truly the epitome of romantic longing. It begins in mid-phrase with the violas winding up long garlands of triplets, over which the violins play a very beautiful phrase (I'll call this the yearning melody). This is definitely the tune that will stay haunting in your memory long after the symphony is over. This, however, is but an introduction and it is succeeded by the real main theme of the movement, a long, expanded melody played by a solo clarinet, derived from the first movement's second subject. The melody, although never actually repeating itself, rotates around a few notes within a limited sphere. After nearly three minutes the violins take over the theme, expanding it still further, and finally culminating on the yearning melody. This long paragraph over, the motto theme suddenly makes its appearance, played twice as fast than in the introduction of the first movement. The motto yields new material for the violins, for cor anglais and oboe and finally for full orchestra to expand upon. All this again culminates in the grand entrance of the yearning melody, now reaching a radiant C major, after which the music quickly drops to pianissimo. There follows a long, heartfelt pause, after which comes one of the most magical moments of the entire symphony: the yearning phrase is taken up by various solo instruments, beginning with horn, and followed by violin, oboe and flute, while the the violins gently support the melody with the motto theme. This lovely and intimate passage now proves to be a transition back to the clarinet-led melody, only this time it is presented by the violins. The woodwinds decorate this theme with the yearning melody and these themes, as well as the motto theme, bringing the movement to a gentle and quiet close.
IV. Allegro vivace
The Finale opens with whooping good-humor, now in E major. Here Rachmaninov unleashes unbridled festivity, but soon thinks better of it and descends into a jaunty, hushed march. This interlude is soon over and we return back to the celebratory music, that soon yields to another Rachmaninov "big tune", one of his finest ever and giving a wonderful sense of unity to the work that the motto theme really can never fully provide. The music again descends to pianissimo and is followed by the sudden appearance of the Adagio's yearning theme for just six measures, after which the high-speed music resumes, though completely different from the celebratory character it had before. There follows an intricate set of descending scales, slow and fast, high and low, syncopated and straight, with the motto theme again flitting in and out of the fabric. After this passage we are back at the celebrations, this time even more delirious than before. The progress of the movement from here is very much similar to the initial exposition, with the hushed march making another interlude, followed by the hectic celebrations and finally by the "big tune", the crowning culmination of the Finale's progress, which leads to the blood-stirring coda. Here the motto rings in a grand and triumphant major, with cymbals clashing and the brass blaring, and the work is finally sealed with Rachmaninov's favourite ending cadenza, YUM-pa-ta-TUM (although here he makes it YUM-pa-ta-ta-TUM).
- - RECORDINGS - -
At the very top of my recommendations stands the historic 1973 recording made by André Previn with the London Symphony Orchestra, the first complete recording of the work. This recording pretty much dominated the catalogues for a decade after its release and has in its favor a passionately commited reading, often taking the music to great romantic heights while never indulging in excess sentimentality or sacrificing the lyrical and beautiful nature of the whole. This recording has now been released as one of EMI's Great Recordings of the Century with much improved sound and also including as a bonus a beautiful account of the Vocalise and two excerpts from the opera Aleko. Close behind I would rank the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra's account under Andrew Litton, that includes the rarely performed exposition repeat, making the first movement very long indeed. The recording is warm, with a nice fullness of timbre. I especially like the crooning strings in the lyrical moments of the first, second and fourth movements. Mariss Jansons' St.Petersburg Philharmonic recording is of very good quality, although it is far too fast for my liking, but the red-bloodedness of the performance does create much dramatic power to the work, which is also helped by a first class recording. This is particularly true in the very energetic Scherzo, while the Adagio's clarinet solo has a real authentic Russian feel to it. At budget price on the EMI Encore label it is an affordable version, which is all the more enticing for the inclusion of the Vocalise and the early 1887 Scherzo in D minor.
Ling Tung's version with the Philharmonia Orchestra is civilized, but not without a great deal of romantic ardour. With fine recording values it also stands high among the recommendations. Vladimir Ashkenazy's performance with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra is a thoughful performance, but is held back somewhat by the sound quality that could be better by today's standards, as this is not exactly a historic performance anyway. Mikhail Pletnev's recording with the Russian National Orchestra dates from the 1970's and has an unusually good recording quality, but the excessive speeds (most specifically in the Finale) tend to cause the work to get out of hand at times. The Naxos budget version with Alexander Anissimov and the Irish National Orchestra has good recorded sound, but the performance itself is a bit redundant, with the Finale featuring some odd cuts, particularly when you consider it was recorded in 1997. In a highly competitive market this is not a first recommendation on any front.
- - SUMMA SUMMARUM - -
So there you have it. If gloriously lyrical and romantic orchestral music is your thing, then you can't afford to be without this work. It is pretty much everything that has made Rachmaninov so popular among the general public and should please everybody who decides to buy it. It is truly a work of beauty and emotions.
exceptional by (33%):
very helpful by (67%):
