Symphony No. 8 in G (Le soir)

Not surprisingly, among his 104 symphonies, there are several by Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809) that seem to fit well with the various times of the day. At today’s noon concert we performed his Symphony No. 7, subtitled “Midday.” That work is the central one of three written upon being hired by Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy in early 1761. Haydn would write over 70 symphonies while in the service of the Esterhazy family, beginning with Symphonies Nos. 6, 7, and 8. In fact, the very idea to write three “time of day” symphonies seems to have come from Prince Anton himself. Taking this commission to heart and wanting to impress his new employer, Haydn penned the symphonies in quick succession. Each symphony includes fabulous solo passages for various instruments, giving each member of this excellent orchestra a chance to stand out. Ingratiating himself with his fellow musicians was a masterful first step by the new composer-in-residence.
Symphony No. 8 in G, nicknamed “Le Soir” or “Evening,” features solo strings in the concertante style of orchestration. Midway between a symphony and a concerto, this approach allows a smaller group of solo instruments to emerge from the larger ensemble at times precisely in the manner of the Baroque concerto grosso. For “Le Soir” that smaller solo group includes cello, two violins, and violone (a precursor of the upright string bass). The suggestion of evening probably stems from the Finale, which depicts a storm, for the opening movement seems entirely sun-kissed. This charming gigue already contains so much of what we admire in Haydn’s later symphonies, including the infectious theme, false recapitulation, and slight chromatic misdirection.
The second movement is built upon the solo/ensemble contrasts mentioned earlier, giving the whole a chamber music feel. In this light, it is worth mentioning that no one was more important in the development of the string quartet genre than Haydn, who penned over 80 exceptional instances. The third movement Minuet casts aside any dark overtones that emerged in the Andante, and its central Trio section spotlights solo cello. All this provides excellent preparation for the storm that Haydn uses to usher in the Presto finale. Repeated string tremolos and cascading scale runs invoke raindrops and flashes of lightning. Truth be told, this evocation of tempest is far less threatening than either Vivaldi’s or Beethoven’s. Where those were feisty or titanic, Haydn’s storm here seems firmly situated in the galant ambiance of nobility caught unawares in nature, a harmless cloudburst that intrudes upon an afternoon of merry-making.

(c) Jason Stell