Symphony No. 7 in A, Op. 92

When it comes to innovation in the symphonic genres, few can outshine Beethoven. From the striking off-tonic beginning of Symphony No. 1 to the expansive codas of the middle period works to the choral spectacle of the celebrated Ninth, he broke more than one conventional boundary. Symphony No. 7 in A Major, written 1811-12, stakes its claim among the most rhythmically advanced works from the whole 19th century. Richard Wagner famously described this Symphony as “the apotheosis of the dance,” which is accurate but still an understatement. For Beethoven’s rhythmic inventiveness completely transcends dance to become, at each moment, the generative and expressive focal point of the entire work.
The first movement opens with a bold slow introduction using rhythmic crescendo; in other words, the melody gradually becomes more active through the decrease in rhythmic note values from half note to quarter note to eighth note, etc. The introduction dissolves as the movement’s signature galloping figure takes center stage. It is one of Beethoven’s most joyous themes, and that is saying something for a man quick to anger, enjoying few close friendships, and by this point reconciled to his complete deafness. The unexpected joy of this symphony has led more than one commentator to peruse Beethoven’s letters for evidence of a possible amorous source. His mood was certainly buoyed by the presence of sympathetic, long-standing acquaintances, including the Brentanos and Count Moritz von Fries, the symphony’s dedicatee. Even the powerful Allegretto in A minor (second movement) is less a despairing dirge and more of a carefully constructed, arcing series of variations on a theme. Beethoven uses dynamics, texture, and rhythm to build a massive crescendo lasting nearly the entire movement.
The following Scherzo then dismantles the linear approach to creating tension. Early critics could not make much sense of this Scherzo, in which the composer rends apart the symphonic texture by splitting strings from winds at key moments and tossing in destabilizing fortissimo jabs. Even today Beethoven’s scherzos continue to fascinate for their striking balance between subtlety and brash, startling effects. And it was this movement that caused Varèse’s sudden insight into music as “sounds cast into space.” The same splintered approach carries over into the Finale, which at times puts on a brave face of rustic good cheer. Now, several rhythmic motives from the preceding movements coalesce: the punctuated fortissimo tattoos (suggesting a military connection—this was the exultant post-Napoleonic period in Vienna); a rhythmic crescendo; and repetitive dotted-note patterns. As a finale, this one is less rhetorical and grandiose than the Fifth Symphony, less altruistic and poetic than the Ninth. But in terms of energy and rhythmic development, the Seventh yields nothing to its titanic brothers.

(c) Jason Stell