Kodaly (from Music Deco)

ZOLTAN KODALY (1882 – 1967)

The aim of these biographical synopses by me is to sketch in something of the life of the composer in question without treading on Matthew’s toes in that his primary preoccupation is to open up to us the music.  Of course, he does tell us about the composer and I sometimes stray to talk about the music but in general the division works well.  I reckon I get the better deal because I do not need to touch upon modulations and augmented fourths and the like.  Our composers usually have some interesting titbits about them tucked away which might take your fancy. Others – César Franck for example –  are impeccably well behaved, never travel anywhere and leave me with no juicy bits to tell. Zoltan Kodaly seems to be one of the latter.

Kodaly, pronounced “Coe” as in Sebastian, and “Dye” as in change of colour, is best known for a handful of works, in particular, the suite “Hary Janos” and some other works from the 1930’s of ethnic Hungarian basis. He was born in Hungary in 1882, the same year as Stravinsky. Apart from a short period of study in Paris, he never moved away from Hungary although there were times when Hungary moved away from him and he found where he had previously lived had become Slovakia. His early interests leaned more towards literary studies than to music. His father was a railway official which meant the family moving on from time to time. From when he was two to when he was nine the Kodaly’s lived in Galánta, a name best known from the dances he wrote later on based on folk music from the region. Later he moved to an area, now part of Slovakia, where Kodaly studied violin and piano and sang in the cathedral choir. He familiarised himself from scores in the cathedral music library. To make up the numbers for his father’s quartet-soirées he went and taught himself the cello. By the time he was fifteen he was already composing for the school orchestra who played an overture of his, followed a year later by a mass he wrote for chorus and orchestra.

In 1900, Kodály studied modern languages at university in Budapest, but music began to exert its pull and he set out to undertake the serious study of folk tales, becoming one of the most significant early figures in the field of ethnomusicology – (what an awful word). In 1905 he visited remote villages to collect songs which he obtained from older country folk, recording them on phonograph cylinders. In 1906 he enrolled at the Academy of Music in 1906, completing a thesis entitled: “The Strophic Structure of Hungarian Folk-Songs” – it remains on my reading list.  Around this time Kodály met Béla Bartók, whom he took under his wing and introduced to some of the methods involved in folk song collation. The two became lifelong friends and champions of each other’s music.

He began composing prolifically and his interest in Hungarian folk songs took him and often Bartok also on various trips to the Hungarian interior, where they collected folk songs which they published. What they produced were modes and scales of Hungarian music, authentic and not previously known, unlike Liszt for example whose Hungarian Rhapsodies were a somewhat romantic attempt to reproduce Hungarian gypsy music which had more in common with the café pavements than archaeological efforts to preserve Magyar culture.

After gaining his doctorate in philosophy and linguistics, Kodály went to Paris in 1906 where he studied with Charles Widor and discovered the music of Debussy and other impressionists. On his return to Budapest the following year he was appointed a professor at the prestigious Franz Liszt Academy where he taught music theory and composition. He was to teach there for most of his life, retiring at age 60 in 1942 but returning there as the Director of the Academy in 1945. Whatever political leanings he might have had, his music career spanned from the Hapsburg years before the first world war through the post Versailles period with Hungary independent and the fascist takeover in the late thirties which Bartok but not  Kodály escaped, to the post 1945 Communist takeover and the Hungarian uprising of 1956 and beyond.

Returning to his early years following his appointment to the Franz Liszt Academy he got married in 1910 to Emma Gruber, a talented pianist and folk song collector and whose salon was visited by many a composer trying out his early works. She first got to know Bartok who valued her friendship and introduced her to Kodály and it seems it might have been a Jules and Jim relationship.  Anyway it was Kodály who got his woman who divorced her banker husband, Henrik Gruber and became a soul mate to Kodály sharing their mutual love for music and folk song collection. She was twenty years his senior and they enjoyed a happy marriage lasting 48 years until her death aged 95.

Back in the pre-first world war days, it took some time for him in getting known and then making headway outside of his own country, not helped then either by the outbreak of a world war nor because of his lack of pushing himself forward.  He did however continue with his folksong researches throughout the war. He had composed throughout this time, producing two string quartets, a sonata for cello and piano and a sonata for solo cello solo. These works show originality of form and content and  a blend of style of music, including classical, late-romantic, and also both impressionistic and modernist tradition coupled at the same time with a deep knowledge of Hungarian folk music and that of other Eastern European countries.

His first big public success came in 1923 with the first performance of his Psalmus Hungaricus, a powerful setting of a sixteenth-century Hungarian version of Psalm 55.  This, like Bartók’s Dance Suite premiered on the same occasion, was written to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the union of the two towns of Buda and Pest, each on the other side of the river from the other. Following his emergence, Kodály travelled throughout Europe to conduct his music which established him both as a national cultural leader, and now a figure of international standing.

His reputation was enhanced by his opera, Háry János  written in 1926.  The best way a composer might get his opera music known to a larger audience is to set it as a concert suite, as did Prokofiev. It worked wonders also for Kodály with Hary Janos which has always been universally popular. It is often compared to Lieutenant Kijé by Prokofiev. Both are stories of soldiers.  In the case of Kijé, the hero never existed at all but had to be invented to cover up for a mistake uttered by the Tsar. A tsar could not make mistakes.  Hary contains whoppers told by a veteran hussar. Kodály  himself wrote “According to Hungarian superstition, if a statement is followed by a sneeze by one of the listeners, it is to be taken as confirmation of its truth.” So the whole shebang starts off with a gigantic orchestral sneeze which means the story including how Hary took on Napoleon single handed and had him begging for mercy has to be true. Kodaly also introduces a cimbalom, a dulcimer Hungarian instrument, rather like a zither but with little hammers instead of being plucked.  Interestingly Debussy used it back in 1910 for a piece called “La Plus Que Lente” which is always played on the piano, there presumably being a dearth of cimbalom players, but I am lucky enough to have a recording of it on cimbalom played by Aldo Ciccolini.

The 1930’s may have been the Depression for some but Kodály blossomed out starting with the Dances of Marosszék (1930) and dedicated to Toscanini; the Dances of Galánta (1933), all presenting an authentic Hungarian national idiom in a manner that allowed it international popularity. His other orchestral works include the ‘Peacock Variations’, sub-titled Variations on a Hungarian Folk Song (1938–39);  a Concerto for Orchestra (1939–40).  Now, as it happens, Bartok wrote his well known Concerto for Orchestra in 1943 and much has been written as to the originality of its name. No-one seems to comment that his great friend had already written a work with this title. Much later, in 1957–61, Kodaly wrote a symphony. Among his choral-orchestral are his Te Deum of 1936 and the Missa Brevis written 1942–44.

Kodály became absorbed in the problems of music education in general, writing a large amount of material on music in education and composing a large amount of music for children. In 1935 he embarked on a project to reform music teaching in schools. His work included several highly influential books which had a profound impact on musical education both inside and outside his home country. This led in the 1940’s to what became known as the “Kodály Method” and is still in use today.

A year after Emma’s death in 1958, Kodály, now aged 75 married Sarolta Péczely, his 19-year-old godchild and student of his at the Academy of Music.  This was a new lease of life in which he lived happily until his death in in Budapest 1967 at the age of 84. He died one of the most respected figures in the Hungarian arts and dare I say satisfied to boot? Hold on. Did I say “with no juicy bits to tell”?

Alban Berg

ALBAN BERG (1885 – 1935)

Alban Berg’s name and repute derive from his being a student of Arnold Schoenberg, as had also been Anton Webern. The group of three, between 1903 and 1925, became known as the Second Viennese School.  The idea of a “Second” Viennese School implies that there was a “First” Viennese School, which would have comprised Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, with Schubert sometimes added.  Personally, I think it pretentious however much one may hold the lads of the second in esteem.  It gives no credence to those in between times and I doubt that Mozart or Haydn would have accepted being referred to as a school, whilst Beethoven would have treated it with complete disdain. 

Berg was born in Vienna and apart from a few short musical trips abroad and annual summer sojourns in the Austrian Alps, he spent his life in that city. That much he had in common with Schubert. He was at first inclined toward a literary career. However, music was regularly played in his parents’ house, in keeping with the ambience of the time and place. He must have displayed a natural talent – there are some who have it and more who don’t – but encouraged by his father and older brother, Berg began to compose music even though he had not as yet received any formal instruction. During this period his output consisted of more than 100 songs and piano duets, most of which remain unpublished.

Berg’s father died in 1900 leaving very little, certainly not enough for Berg to be able to afford lessons in composition. To add to his troubles, Berg became involved in an affair with Marie Scheuchl, a servant girl in the household who became pregnant and gave birth in December 1902 to a baby girl. The servant was of course to be blamed and was dismissed. All these incidents affected Berg so much that in the autumn of 1903, he attempted suicide. In September 1904 came a pivotal point in his career when he would meet Arnold Schoenberg, an event that decisively influenced his compositional path. Fortunately, Schoenberg was quick to recognize Berg’s talent and took him on as a non-paying pupil. Schoenberg was to become the guiding factor in shaping Berg’s artistic personality as they worked together over the next six years.

Berg presented his first public performances in 1907 largely to fellow members of the Schoenberg circle.  There followed his single movement  piano sonata in 1908. Each year there followed, at a somewhat slow pace, Four Songs (1909), a string quartet in 1910, the year his pupillage to Schoenberg ended. His musical gods and influences, apart from Schoenberg were Wagner and Mahler. Wagner had died back in 1883 but his all-pervading influence still remained. Mahler was the uncrowned king of the Vienna Opera, from 1897 till 1907 when he left the Opera and The Philharmonic to take over at New York. Mahler’s leanings were different.  Mahler was the arch romantic, as OTT as Tchaikovsky.  Schoenberg had come from much the same background, fourteen years Mahler’s junior, deeply romantic to begin with as in his Verklaerte Nacht but so overripe that he realized that he would need to do something to stop the rot from further setting in. It was against that background that he sought to do away with the accepted home key centres by abolishing tonality itself.  In this Berg, a romantic himself, would follow down the same path.  Mahler on the other hand continued with tonality, pressing it to its very limits such that it was by his death in 1911 on the edge of bursting apart and stretching itself like an elastic band towards atonality.  Both schools were travelling in opposite directions and yet meeting up in the same place.  Thus Mahler was recognized by the Second Viennese School who held him, for all his romantic extremes, in great esteem.

In 1911, Berg, came into a small inheritance and married Helene Nahowski, whom he had met in 1906, daughter of a high-ranking Austrian officer.  The couple live on in Vienna, where he devoted the remainder of his life to music. It was their world in which they took part in the cultural and  intellectual life of the city. His circle included composers Alexander von Zemlinsky and Franz Schreker, artists Gustav Klimt and Oskar Kokoschka, the writer and satirist Karl Kraus, the Austro-Czech pioneer of modern architecture Adolf Loos, and the poet Peter Altenberg.

Composers all fall into one of two distinctions. Either a composer composes inside his mind so that what comes out emerges as the finished article. Mozart and Schubert are just two such composers who appear to fall into this category. The vast majority have a rougher time of it. Their initial rough ideas once on paper or in sketch books have to be further drafted, worked on and forged into shape.  Beethoven fell into this classification. With him what we hear sounds like the work of someone inspired and not the work of a musical sculptor who has had to hammer and chisel his way there. With Berg it was worse than that with his creative activity slowed down until there arrived a sudden rush of inspiration. His fastidious and perfectionist manner of composing would explain  the relatively small number of his works. With Mozart I can imagine him whistling whilst he worked and out would come Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. With Berg? Well I can’t imagine an atonal composer whistling his note row!

In 1912 Berg completed “Five Orchestral Songs”, his first work since ending his studies with Schoenberg two years before. The inspiration for this composition came from postcard messages written by the eccentric Viennese poet, Richard Engländer under his nom de plume, Peter Altenberg. The texts of these postcards have been described as erotic. Berg felt prompted to use them to stretch further his modernism. It transpired that when two of these songs were presented at a concert of the Academic Society for Literature and Music in 1913, it provoked a near riot, in which performers and audience freely participated.  1913 was a good year for riots as Stravinsky also would discover.

The First World War would cause a general slow down on composition and performance affecting both sides of the conflict.  Berg was no exception. During 1915 he was called up for military duty in the Austro-Hungarian Army although, because of his health, always frail, he was assigned to a desk job in the War Ministry.  It was during this period that he first alighted on the theme of Wozzeck for his first opera. During the war he had found a summer home at  a lakeside in Carinthia where he could work in quiet, shades of Mahler who had had his annual summer lakeside home to compose and escape the travails of conductorship.   After the end of World War I, Berg, settled back home in Vienna, took on private pupils in composition and building  international reputation in this field of activity.

Wozzeck took a long time to hit the boards.  Although first performed in 1925 it was born out of an earlier period. The original story, entitled Woyzeck, was written by a German dramatist Georg Büchner (1813–37). Büchner, one of the famous revolutionaries of the period was best known for his play, “Danton’s Death”.  For his part in the production of a revolutionary pamphlet he fled Germany and settled in Strasbourg. He died of typhus aged 24 and it is considered he would have been ranked alongside Goethe and Schiller had he survived.   The text of Woyzeck was not discovered until 1879. Berg first began work on a libretto during the First World War, compressing 25 scenes into three acts. By 1917 he had completed the libretto  but only began composing the score after the war. He completed the opera in 1921 and dedicated it to Alma Mahler, widow of the composer.

Wozzeck is an atonal work and was first performed in December 1925 at the Berlin State Opera, with Erich Kleiber conducting. It had needed no fewer than 137 rehearsals.  Critical response was not slow in coming”

 “As I was leaving the State Opera I had the sensation of having been not in a public theatre but in an insane asylum.… I regard Alban Berg as a musical swindler and a musician dangerous to the community”. Another critic described the music as “drawn from Wozzeck’s poor, worried, inarticulate, chaotic soul. It is a vision in sound.”

Once Wozzeck was completed and produced, Berg turned his attention to music in smaller dimension. His Chamber Concerto for violin, piano, and 13 wind instruments was written in 1925, in honour of Schoenberg’s 50th birthday.

In May 1925 Berg met Hanna Fuchs-Robettin, sister of Franz Werfel who was husband number 3 of Alma Mahler. Berg secretly and cryptically dedicated his Lyric Suite to Hanna. By then he had been happily married to Helene Nahowski for 14 years, but he was increasingly prone to taking time out and his feelings for Hanna were intoxicating. Over the course of five days they embarked on a torrid affair. Hanna certainly provided the spark for the Lyric Suite, a string quartet which he completed on 30 September 1926. Berg then searched for a theme for a new opera text. He found it by a combination of two plays by the German dramatist Frank Wedekind out of which he created the central character for his opera, Lulu. This work engaged him, with minor interruptions, for a mere seven years until his death and, even then, the orchestration of the third act remained unfinished. Ultimately the Austrian composer Friedrich Cerha was able to make a completed version and given it received its first performed in Paris in 1979. Lulu was composed entirely in the 12-tone system.

It was from Germany during the time of the Weimar Republic that Berg derived the greatest source of income, most of which was to dry up once the Nazis came to power in 1933. Neither Berg nor Webern were of Jewish descent as was Schoenberg but they too were regarded as representatives of “degenerate art” and performances of their works in Germany became banned. There was a similar knock on effect in his native Austria which caused particular anguish for Berg. Abroad, however, he was recognized more and more as an Austrian composer, and his works were performed at leading musical festivals.

Berg’s last complete work, the violin concerto, originated under an unusual mix of circumstances. With diminishing income he was in need of new commissions. In 1935 he received one from the Russian born American violinist, Louis Krasner, for a violin concerto. It was a musical form he had not previously tackled and, as ever, he was slow to in getting going. What changed it was news of the death from polio of Manon Gropius, the beautiful 18-year-old daughter of Alma Mahler (by then Alma Werfel, ex-wife of Walter Gropius). Berg began to treat the work as a kind of epitaph, inscribing its dedication to the “memory of an angel”. Suddenly he had found his inspiration and worked at fever pitch in the quiet of his Carinthian lakeside villa. He completed the concerto in six weeks. It was first performed by Krasner in Barcelona in April 1936 but by this time it had become a requiem not only for Manon but for Alban Berg himself as well.  He died on Christmas Eve in 1935 having after having received an insect bite and contracted septicaemia.  He became very ill and, shortly after entering hospital, his death came suddenly. The violin concerto has become one of the major works of the genre, of highly personal, emotional content achieved through a 12 tone note row but which itself included a theme from a Bach chorale.

He is described as man of strikingly attractive appearance with reserved aristocratic bearing.   In looks he reminds me a little of the actor Robert Donat. Possibly, as a result of his youthful looks comment is often made as to how young he was when he died. Yes, 50 is young but Tchaikovsky was 51 when he died and his 51 from his photos makes him seen well, veritably venerable.

With Berg one feels there was so much more to have been said. Sadly. we will never know.

Haydn (The Esterhazy Years)

 

JOSEF HAYDN –  THE ESTERHAZY YEARS – From 1761 to 1790

 

Matthew is about to get us going again with a new series dealing with Haydn’s years in the service of the Esterhazy family.  It is by no means the first time that Matthew has devoted either a lecture or a series to Haydn who is very much one of his favourites.  Six years ago, he embarked on the first in a series dealing with the history of the string quartet with Haydn at the prow.  Earlier he had devoted a whole series to Haydn in London, which covered the two visits in 1791 and 1793 including many of the twelve ‘London’ symphonies. Then, two years ago in 2015 Haydn appeared in another series, Orchestral Splendours, in which his two great oratorios, The Creation and The Seasons, were featured.  I myself had previously written an outline Haydn biographical sketch for the Quartet series. For the two oratorios, I thought I could give him a miss. But, as I wrote at the time, you can’t play Hide ‘n Seek with Haydn and so I produced an article based on the London years and After.

Well, here we are again, this time going back to have a peek at the Esterhazy years. It covers almost thirty years in Haydn’s life and an enormous proportion from his total output. Yet the music from this period is not so well known as that of the London period when he had superior orchestral forces available to extend the range of his writing. Performances of his earlier symphonies are less frequently given and thus less familiar.  This may lead to an impression that these are lesser works, lacking maturity, which is far from the case.  It was not until the mammoth project of recording all 104 of the Haydn symphonies by the Philharmonia Hungarica under Antal Dorati in 1965 that all the symphonies could be obtained on disc. Dorati opened our eyes and ears to a whole sound world of music composed by the man who in his time was the greatest composer on earth.

Such stature has become a little lost on us today compared with his own time.  Mozart was his much younger contemporary but whose reputation during his own short life did not receive the same acclaim as that of Haydn. As night followed day, so Beethoven followed Haydn adding a considerable degree of weight and drama that would come to overshadow his great predecessor and, at one time, teacher.  Certainly, a good few of those Haydn symphonies are known and played, particularly where they have names attributed to them. Nevertheless, do not run away with the idea that Haydn just churned out run of the mill eighteenth century symphonies.  He is always teeming with new ideas, experimental sounds, always inventive and not just a joker as commentators might have us believe.  I would go further and say that as a composer he was a maverick who knew he could somehow get away with it.  It is that aspect which changed him from a bewigged kapellmeister to a genius.

I should also add that the thirty year stretch must have involved many interesting episodes but in biographical changes there is little to relate. The same might be said of a solicitor spending 30 years in Blackheath which in retrospect seems a bit samish. In the article below which I wrote six years ago I summed up life with the Esterhzay’s in one paragraph.  What follows is an expanded rehash of that article.

 Haydn very deservedly has been merited with the label, Father of the Symphony.  Yet this is not strictly qccurate. There were symphonies before Haydn, although it was he who put the symphony on the map with 104 of them.    There can be no question however that he would have been entitled to the name, Father of the String Quartet.  Before Haydn there were no string quartets.  There was chamber music, frequently with two violins and harpsichord or cello continuo but the string quartet itself was devised, almost by accident, developed and sculpted into shape by the one man. Early versions contained usually five or more movements including two minuets. It was not until the Esterhazy years that it settled into the standard four movements, two outer ones fast and in between a slow movement and minuet, following sonata form as in the symphonies.

Haydn, the son of a wheelwright, was born according to his birth certificate on 1st April 1732, a most propitious date for someone who is best remembered for his humour. His birthplace was close to the Austria/Hungary border on the Austrian side of the river and Haydn is claimed by both of these countries. He started displaying his musical gifts from an early age. He was hardly a wunderkind à la Mozart but his parents sent him to live with their relative, Johann Matthias Frankh, the schoolmaster and choirmaster in Hainburg, who promised that he would train Josef in music. As a young child, he learned to play various musical instruments and received some basic training before being sent to Vienna to become a chorister at St. Stephen’s Cathedral. There discipline was rigorous and teaching was done on the cheap by older pupils passing their knowledge down to others as did Josef for his younger brother Michael who became an even more renowned pupil. There was no formal instruction in music theory and Josef learned on his own from studying scores. He was eventually dropped after nine years at the cathedral at the age of 16.  According to most accounts, this was because he was given the red card for the prank of cutting another choirboy’s pigtail.  In reality, his voice was beginning to break and he could no longer make the high notes.  One authority suggests that there had earlier been discussed the possibility for an extended career for Josef by an operation which would have resulted in him becoming a permanent soprano. However, his father objected. And I venture to think that Haydn himself, given the choice, was content with the eventual outcome. No-one now regrets the loss of a prospective castrato but it can be safely said that the world was left with a better legacy (as was Haydn) and the output of one of the most gifted of composers.

On leaving St Stephens, Haydn lived a rough life in Vienna for some twelve years, dossing in a garret with a friend and his family. For those who perceive Haydn as just a musical lackey, compared to the freelancing Mozart and Beethoven, it may come as a surprise that Haydn was doing the streets, scraping by playing in street bands, teaching and looking for odd commissions.  He lacked theoretical instructions but he studied closely the scores of others, particularly the keyboard works of C P E Bach. He then managed to gain the position of valet-accompanist to Nicola Porpora, a crusty old opera composer, from whom he took lessons to improve his technical knowledge of playing and composing. His writing of string quartets came about fortuitously round about 1757. He had been teaching the daughters of Baron Furnberg, a gifted amateur musician who wanted some music especially for him to play with his colleagues.  The instrumentation that was available for the purpose happened to be two violins, viola and cello.   His compositions for Furnberg proved most satisfactory and led to a recommendation in which he was appointed kapellmeister to Count Morzin in about 1758 and in charge of an orchestra of 12.  Present at the very first Morzin concert turned out to be a most important visitor, Prince Paul Anton Esterharzy.

Now with the security of a permanent job and a good salary, Haydn reckoned the time had come to settle down and marry.  He had a soft spot for Theresia Keller, a pupil of his who was the daughter of a court wigmaker in whose house Haydn was lodging at the time. She however did not return his affections and instead she became a nun.  We do not know why exactly but Haydn seem to have felt guilty about this and offered to marry instead her older sister, Maria Anna. At this time, employees were not allowed wives under the Morzin regime and so Haydn concealed this fact of his marriage in order to safeguard the job. By all accounts it was never a happy marriage or a love match and their separation was probably a relief to Haydn even if a bone of contention with Mrs H.  One should also bear in mind that employment often necessitated long periods from home, there being no means of commute between home and the workplace.  There are various references to the marriage being loveless and childless.  Mrs Haydn is variously described as a shrew and a religious bigot. They were to all intents living apart and both of them were said to be carrying on their private affairs. She seems to have been some kind of groupie amongst priests and monks.  Doubtless opportunity presented itself to Haydn in his teaching sessions with young trainee sopranos. Most accounts are from his side and perhaps posterity has been unkind to her.  She probably saw another side to her husband, unperceived by others.  Who might know what life is like living with a genial genius!  It has been difficult to unravel this aspect of their respective domestic lives. One is left with the impression that during the thirty years of his working for the Esterharzys they lived apart if only by force of circumstance and only coming together again on his leaving the Esterhazys. However, I have come across contrary reference to Haydn having his own accommodation at Esterhaza and later buying a cottage there with Frau Haydn living in.  This would fit with the account of Frau Haydn using Haydn’s written manuscripts for scouring the saucepans or twisting into curlers. The truth seems to be somewhere in between and that, apart from a short period, they had settled for the fact that they were married in the eyes of God and the law but it suited both of them to keep their distance. Later on, Haydn made his two London visits, each of eighteen months, in 1791 and 1793 and his lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of his return when his wife was mentioned has always caught the remarks of commentators. By that time however Haydn had left the Esterhazy palace and the two were planning at her suggestion to house-share in Vienna, she upstairs and he downstairs.

Under Morzin, Haydn was in charge of an orchestra varying between eleven and sixteen musicians and it was for this ensemble that he wrote his first symphony as well as numerous divertimenti for wind band or for wind instruments and strings. These early musical compositions were still conventional in character, yet a certain freshness of melodic invention and sparkle. Estimates and approximations vary as to how many symphonies he wrote in that period. These vary between the experts from eleven to twenty.  His symphonies are now numbered from 1 to 104 but that is by no means the order in which they were composed, or first played. The orchestrations vary according to the instruments that were available from time to time. One good example is that symphony no. 31 known as “the Horn Signal” has four horns. So does symphony no.71 (“La Chasse”) which, it turns out, was written two years before No 31!

Eventually Haydn did inform the Count of his marriage which did not create for him the difficulty he had feared.  At that time Haydn and the orchestra were away from Vienna at Morzin’s summer palace, Dolní Lukavice near Pilsen in Bohemia. What did bring about the end of their relations was Morzin’s profligacy.  Like many of the aristocracy he had no understanding of there being a limitation to his wealth. He was fast heading for bankruptcy and amongst the first of the cuts was the orchestra. It must have come as a blow to Haydn who would have seen himself back on the streets of Vienna.  However, he now had a good CV. It may well be that Morzin put in a word with Prince Esterhazy but at any rate, in 1761, Haydn was engaged as a vice Kapellmeister at Eisenstadt, about thirty miles from Vienna, to Gregor Josef Werner by the even richer Prince Paul Esterhazy and at twice his previous salary.

The Esterhazy family was one of the richest and most influential within the Austro-Hungarian empire. As well as their Palace at Eisenstadt, the permanent residence of the Esterhazys, they owned castles throughout Austria/Hungary. They lived royally and reigned like sovereigns within their principality. As deputy Kapellmeister at Eisenstadt an important period of Haydn’s life had begun, “it is where I wish to live and to die”, he wrote in a letter in July 1776. His first compositions there are thought to be the symphonies No 6, “Le Matin”, No 7, “Le Midi” and No 8, “Le Soir”. As I mentioned earlier, do not be misled by their numbers. The titles are thought to have been suggested by the Prince. Haydn occupied rooms at the Musicians’ House near the Bergkirche until 1766 when he purchased a house of his own, close to the Franciscan Monastery.

When Haydn commenced his duty at Eisenstadt he was initially employed as deputy Kapellmeister to Werner who was getting old and sick but officially remained in charge and director of the orchestra. De facto, Haydn’s duties involved his taking over the whole caboodle, except for religious music. Records show that a bit of under the counter money accountancy took place to hide from Werner the fact that Haydn was being paid more than him.   Haydn’s contract stipulated that he should conduct himself soberly and dress accordingly and that he set an example to the musicians and compose music on request of the Prince. His duties encompassed the maintenance of instruments, cataloguing of musical scores, lecturing, composing and performing concerts. The Prince had a glasshouse within the Palace Park converted into a theatre and Haydn was able to augment the orchestra having likely as not recruited some of players from the Morzin band. 

In March 1762, less than a year after Haydn landed the job, Prince Paul Anton died and doubtless Haydn might well have had thoughts as to whether he would be returning to the Vienna streets. However, if anyone could claim to have Lady Luck on his side it was Haydn. Prince Paul Anton was succeeded by his brother, Prince Nikolaus. His musical requirements were as mammoth as the Esterharzy schlosses which he continued to expand as though they were Barratts Homes. Prince Nikolaus  was dubbed “The Magnificent”, proof of his delight in spending over the top to host extravagant entertainment and special celebrations.  Haydn, would become his third most highly paid official, after the property manager and the personal physician of the Prince. Not a solicitor in sight. This financial ranking shows the important status Haydn had gained and the high esteem in which he was held. Even more magnificent than the investiture of Prince Nikolaus was the wedding of his eldest son

the following year. For that occasion, in 1763, Haydn wrote his first opera for the Esterházy court, Acide.

Here I am going to quote from my earlier article from six years ago when I summed up Haydn’s thirty year stint with Esterhazy in one paragraph as follows:

“His years with the Esterhazys were contented and busy. His duties which he took in his stride included all matters musical.  He attended on the Prince twice a day to discuss the musical requirements.  He was in charge of the purchase of musical instruments, looked after the library, edited the music of others, took the Sunday services at the organ, rehearsed the orchestra, became their virtual shop steward in handling their grievances, took choir practices, gave music lessons, rehearsed operas both those which he wrote and those of others.  In the evening, there were performances of the music including at one time 150 opera performances a year. And on top of this he composed a bit of music including a weekly baryton trio especially for the Prince to play, about 70 quartets, numerous sonatas, about 80 symphonies, various concertos and masses. He also found time to carry on an affair over 12 years with Luigia Polzelli, a rather untalented Italian opera singer, with a much older asthmatic husband, and who claimed Haydn to be the father of her second son. Little wonder he would return home to the moans of his unmusical and querulous wife – if she was around –  and lucky for there to be left out a plate of cold wiener schnitzel”.

Let us take a closer look. In 1764 Prince Nikolaus travelled to Paris over which he was enraptured, none more than for the Palace of Versailles. This gave him ideas of his own. On the south easterly shore of Lake Neusiedl the Esterhazy family owned a hunting lodge. Prince Nikolaus was especially fond of this place and decided to transform the building into a splendid palace to become the Hungarian Versailles. It would be positioned within a waterlogged corner of the lake to be called “Esterhaza”. It was substantially completed within two years and would include an opera house, a puppet theatre and other buildings, making it a cultural centre. During the summer months Esterhaza was to become the centre of Haydn’s activities.

Not so for poor old Werner, the kapellmeister. He would never have made it for the new venture as he died that year, 1766. Haydn hardly needed to step into his shoes as he was de facto wearing them already, except for church music which Haydn was happy to take on.  He was given a new three year contract, renewable at will by the prince, an arrangement which continued until the Prince’s death in 1790.  After that Haydn would still be retained to write masses and would go on to receive a pension for life. It was only after Haydn had become kapellmeister that he purchased the little house in Eisenstadt next to the monastery. Unfortunately, the house burnt down twice, the problem with candles most likely.  The Prince had it rebuilt at his own expense, one indication of how much he appreciated his kapellmeister.

After the transfer of the Court to Esterhaza , Haydn turned his attention back to opera with “La canterina” (1766), “Lo speziale” (1768) and “Le pescatrici” (1769). Haydn is of course known for his symphonies, string quartets, sonatas, other chamber music and masses but not for his operas of which he wrote 15 for performance at Esterhaza. Between 1780 and1790 he conducted over a thousand opera performances.  Gustav Mahler almost would burn himself out as a composer and conductor but Haydn in his time seemed to have managed effortlessly.

Maria Theresa is supposed to have commented “If I want to hear good opera I must come to Eszterháza”. Given that she only went on one occasion for two days in 1773, she might as well have suggested Glyndebourne instead. The great celebrations for that occasion were reported thus:

“On the first day, there was a banquet (at which three gamebirds, killed with one shot by Haydn, were on the Empress’s plate), the inspection of the Park, a performance of Haydn’s opera “L’infedeltà delusa” in the opera house, followed by a fancy-dress ball which lasted till dawn.  During an intermission in the ball the Prince showed the imperial party his new Chinese Pleasure house.  The walls were covered with mirrors which reflected the light of innumerable Chinese lanterns and candles.  Haydn and the orchestra played a symphony and other works. The main ball took place in a 40 metre long Chinese gallery adjoining the opera house.  Eleven chandeliers and 600 candles illuminated the room and the musicians were dressed in Chinese costume”.  The next evening’s entertainment started with a specially composed marionette opera by Haydn. “The auditorium was flanked on both sides by caves domed with rockery and sea shells in the rocaille style. Some of the caves were embellished with fresco paintings, others with miniature fountains. The puppet opera was followed by a festive supper after which the Prince led the Imperial party through an avenue illuminated with coloured Chinese lanterns to the site of a spectacular firework display.  Once seated the Empress lit the first fuse.  After the fireworks, an outdoor ball took place in a special arena, lit by more than 20,000 Chinese lanterns and with over a thousand young peasants performing local dances”

Prince Nikolaus himself had his own favourite instrument which he played called the “Baryton” (viola di bordone), It was already obsolete but he required his Kapellmeister to write music for the instrument. The baryton was similar to the cello, but it not only had strings on the front to play but also had them attached to the neck at the back of the instrument so as to be plucked. Haydn composed some 125 trios for baryton, viola and cello, almost on a weekly basis, numerous solo pieces, duets and instrumental music with solo parts for one, sometimes even two, barytons which Haydn himself learned to play.

It was only with the easing off from composing for the baryton that Haydn returned after some long period to the string quartet.  Esterharza has been described as damp and sodden in winter creating a depressing atmosphere and it was against this background that he wrote his first great set of string quartets, his opus 20s, known also as the Sun Quartets.  Tovey, the great critic, likened the opus 20’s for Haydn to the Eroica for Beethoven. Hitherto the quartet was dominated by the first violin or two violins but now they were moving into equality and fraternity. One can be forgiven for thinking that the opus 20’s must be early but in fact they were written in 1772. It is the opus numbering which is deceiving.  Previously Haydn’s works were not his to publish but he prevailed on the Prince to allow him to do so as others were beginning to filch them. Haydn engaged the publishers, Ataria, for his quartets and they attributed their own opus numbers when releasing them. Like the majority of Haydn’s quartets, the opus 20’s come as a compilation of six.  None of the individual quartets has a name but the package is called “The Sun Quartets”, not to be confused with “the Sunrise” opus 76 No 6.  This is not intended to represent Haydn bursting into sunlight but a somewhat darker hue than hitherto. The only reason for the name is that the front cover of the manuscript by Ataria contained a picture of a sun.

It is interesting that the best known works of composers are often those with names, like Haydn’s “Surprise” symphony.  Haydn’s works contain a number of interesting appellations like “How Do You Do” in his Opus 33’s.  I have myself accorded to Op 20 No 4 a sub-title of my own which I hope will cotton on.  I call it “the Bus Conductor” because, in the scherzoid last movement there keeps being repeated a short staccato phrase followed by a curious buzzing, just like a bus conductor pressing the bell and presumably calling out “Hold very tight please”.  Haydn would not of course have known what a bus conductor was; nor perhaps might some of the younger members of our group.

Ten years after the Opus 20’s came the Opus 33’s. In December 1781 Haydn gave musical instruction to Maria Feodorovna, the wife of Grand Duke (later Tsar Paul I) of Russia. The string quartets from Op. 33 published a short time later are dedicated to the grand duke and are consequently known as the “Russian” quartets. 

There is something wonderfully original and improvisatory in all of Haydn’s music giving each work a unique freshness.  One always finds new ideas appearing, strange expressions and never the feeling of “I have heard this before”.  His quartets have a classical form but never is there a feeling that each work has been written to fit the same template apart perhaps the minuets when they come from the stable of the hotel owning O’Reilly, as to which Matthew himself will enlighten your curiosity!!

In tandem with all this, Haydn had his workplace routine and his private life. He would have made a good tightrope walker. His position placed him in charge of his band of players to ensure their discipline but at the same time he was their trusted spokesman for which he got the nickname of Papa Haydn. Best known of course is the story of his symphony number 45 (“Farewell”).  On that occasion, the summer season at Esterhaza had become extended into October when it was becoming damp and cold and the musicians fed up with not knowing when they would return to Vienna and their families. Haydn, instead of relaying their grumps to the Prince, added a coda to the end of his new symphony where, one by one, the musicians blew out their candle and left the stage until only two violins were left playing.  The Prince got the message and next day everybody had packed up and were on their way back! I imagine it would have taken even Haydn just a little time to write the music, rehearse it, or for the wind down to be effected so quickly. There is no doubt that it happened but still it has probably been dolled up a bit.

No doubt Haydn had his dalliances. In 1779 Luigia Polzelli, a 29 year old singer and her elderly asthmatic husband, a violinist, were engaged at Esterhaza. Haydn appears to have been instrumental in extending their stay beyond their shelf life. Numerous letters show that Luigia became Haydn`s mistress. She was not apparently possessed of a particularly beautiful voice, but she did have other assets, enough for Haydn to arrange her arias as advantageously for her as possible. Eventually she gave birth to a baby boy said by her to be Haydn’s. Her husband, Antonio, died in 1791, by which time Haydn was in London, and she returned to Italy. They never saw each other again. Haydn did however provide her with financial support and, after his return to Vienna, took on responsibility for both of her sons.

As one moves into the 1780’s changes were taking place.  Although he might have been the last to realize it, Haydn’s reputation was spreading internationally.  Guests were prepared to pay to get into Eisenstadt or Esterhaza to see and hear the great Haydn. In 1780 Haydn received his first major distinction from abroad. The Academy at Modena nominated him to be an honorary member. Orders for compositions arrived from various European countries. From Cádiz came a commission for the orchestration of his quartets, The Seven Last Words of Our Saviour on the Cross. In France Haydn compositions were being widely circulated. The Paris Symphonies Nos. 82-87 and Symphonies Nos. 88-92 were ordered by le Comte d`Ogny , initiator of the Concerts de la Loge Olympique and a freemason. As we have seen Haydn was beginning to be allowed some freedom to publish his own creations and these became nice little earners. Here Haydn displayed an ability for a touch of double dealing, tch, tch, tch.  He was not averse to selling a score to one punter (his opus 64 quartets) and then doing the same with another, tch, tch, tch!  Well, if one was in Paris and another in London, who would know anyway?

Haydn and Mozart are thought likely to have first met late in 1782. There is written record of their playing in a quartet together, Haydn, first violin; Dittersdorf, second violin; Vanhal, cello and Mozart, viola. Perhaps it should have been called the Composers Quartet! Haydn was then 50 and Mozart 26. We do not know what prompted Mozart but he wrote six quartets which he dedicated to Haydn. Mozart had written string quartets and by then would have known and likely to have played the opus 33’s with their composer. How did Haydn re-act to these quartets? The evidence is contained in the famous letter he wrote to Leopold Mozart.  “Before God and as an honest man I tell you that your son is the greatest composer known to me either in person or by name: He has taste, and, furthermore, the most profound knowledge of composition.” This, coming from the greatest composer alive, was praise indeed and meant. It was Mozart who introduced Haydn into freemasonry in which Haydn had expressed an interest and which was increasingly popular at the time. In February 1785, he was inducted as a member of the True Harmony lodge. It was the following day, after Haydn`s acceptance, that the private play through of Mozart’s Haydn quartets took place.

As the 1780’s came to an end, Haydn expressed his restlessness in letters to Marianne von Genzinger, the physican’s wife.  Theirs was a platonic relationship but which one feels might have been otherwise had she given him half a chance. London had beckoned but one suspects that Haydn would never have moved on. His choice was made for him by the death of Prince Nikolaus in 1790 and the accession of Prince Paul Antony II. He had decided to cut out the lavish expenditure and to let Haydn go. Notwithstanding, he did retain him on full salary for life.  The way was now open for Haydn to consider the offers previously turned down.

The impresario and violinist, Johann Peter Salomon, happened to be in Cologne at the time seeking out new talent for the 1791 London season. On learning of the death of Prince Nikolaus, he travelled post haste from Cologne to Vienna. There he introduced himself to Haydn. “I am Salomon from London and I have come to fetch you”.