An der schönen, blauen Donau (Blue Danube Waltz)

Johannes Brahms nurtured many passions in life, and three of the most significant are captured in the title of a well-known Strauss waltz: Wein, Weib und Gesang—Wine, Women, and Song. Brahms enjoyed good living. Earlier in life he envied the urbanity of someone like Johann Strauss—Europe’s Waltz King—and tried several times to initiate personal contact. That eventually took place around 1880, when Brahms spent his first summer in the Austrian resort town of Bad-Ischl. Strauss hosted lavish parties at his mansion there, and the Hamburg upstart seemed dazed by the glamorous surroundings and lovely women. Despite never marrying, Brahms was hardly immune to feminine charms. In Sunday’s notes I mentioned two objets d’amour: Clara Schumann and Elisabeth von Herzogenberg. There were more. But probably in silent devotion to Clara, Brahms remained a bachelor, wedded spiritually only to her and, of course, to music. And in the end, it is Brahms’ passion for music—for song, as it were—that brings us together this evening.
At one of those Ischl galas, Strauss’ stepdaughter asked Brahms to sign a keepsake for her. He jotted down the opening bars of the already famous Blue Danube Waltz and added, “Alas! not by Johannes Brahms! Time has overridden Brahms’ self deprecation, but Strauss’ Blue Danube remains one of those iconic works that transcends classical music. Overall The Blue Danube Waltz is not one dance but many; an Introduction and Coda frame five distinct waltzes. The shimmering Introduction begins ex nihilo, in playful homage to Beethoven’s towering Ninth Symphony, before passing quickly through several waltz fragments. We finally settle on the signature melody: a rising arpeggio answered by mincing chords above. The magic is that such simple, formulaic material can be so aesthetically satisfying. The answer, as one might claim in a similar way for Vivaldi, lies in rhythmic vitality. Each individual dance expresses a variety of moods, from exhilaration to wistfulness to Imperial pomp. At the end, Strauss nostalgically recalls two earlier themes before a rousing conclusion.

(c) Jason Stell