Symphony No. 6 in D (Le matin)

Artists have always been drawn to the expressive moods evoked by different times of day. Painters key into changing light, as in Monet’s series depicting the façade of Rouen Cathedral. Poets and playwrights interpret the arrival of darkness in symbolic terms, as a progression from life to death in miniature, ultimately redeemed by the sunrise and its promise of new horizons. In past concerts we have celebrated, for instance, music of the night for its combination of mystery, romance, and the power of the unknown. Tonight we broaden that perspective to embrace music “From Dusk to Dawn,” from the sentiments of nostalgia and rest that accompany sunset to the feelings of renewed hope and energy that come with first light.
As is often the case with Haydn’s symphonies, a nickname gets attached that usually bears only minimal relation to the entire work. In the case of Symphony No. 6, Le Matin (“Morning”), the evocative gesture occurs right at the outset. An Adagio introduction, scored initially for unaccompanied violins, expands gradually like the coming dawn, drawing out the other instruments in turn. Solo flute then takes the lead at the outset of the Allegro main theme, perhaps redolent of twittering birds at first light. These naturalistic touches led by solo winds mark the remainder of the exposition. One noteworthy detail, looking ahead many years to Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony, is the premature solo horn entry just moments before the true capitulation occurs.
In the second movement one will hear the similarity between the symphony circa 1761 and the earlier concerto grosso tradition. Features like the reduced texture (minimal strings supporting solo violin), use of accompanying harpsichord, and the simple chord progression hearken back a generation. The solo writing later spills over from violin to cello, and the pair enjoy moments of delightful dialogue. Returning to the Adagio material, Haydn seems poised to parrot a late Baroque transition and finish with a traditional Phrygian half cadence. But he eschews this expectation with a simple V–I cadence, rounding the movement off before proceeding into the next one. The Minuet features solo flute, but the clearest demonstration of Haydn’s intent—which is to explore concertante textures, even moments that approach the quality of true chamber music—comes out forcefully in the delightful D-minor trio and the bustling finale. Even though there seems to be nothing beyond the opening page of the symphony to suggest “morning,” the evident charm and striking use of soloistic writing sets these “time of day” symphonies apart.

(c) Jason Stell