Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)

Poco sostenuto – Vivace
Allegretto
Presto – Assai meno presto
Allegro con brio

In this symphony Beethoven, not for the first time, achieved something completely new. It was too much for some of his contemporaries: even so perceptive a musician as Weber thought that the grinding five-note figure which is repeated obstinately by the violas, cellos and basses in the coda of the first movement showed that Beethoven was ‘ripe for the madhouse’. Berlioz admired the symphony, but puzzlingly found a rustic, peasants’ round in the first movement, and Wagner dubbed the whole symphony ‘the apotheosis of the dance’.

But there is no program in this symphony; its innovations are musical. The most obvious is the preoccupation with rhythm. This is clear from the moment when, after the unprecedentedly long slow introduction, almost a separate movement in itself, the orchestra seems to become fixated on one repeated note, eventually slipping into the rhythm which dominates the first movement (and the skipping figure which presumably prompted Berlioz’s comment).

The second movement is again based on a pervasive rhythm, beating constantly through the theme and the variations. The tempo marking is Allegretto, but Beethoven wondered whether he should have written Andante, a sure sign that it should be neither too slow, nor too fast. Solemn and flowing at the same time, rich yet simple in its harmonies, this movement was immediately understood, and was encored at the premiere in 1813.

The Scherzo is one of those amazing Beethoven inventions which pack a wealth of ideas and surprises into a concentrated space, but without seeming quirky or cluttered, because the composer seems so sure of what he is doing. Besides, the trio provides a sudden and remarkable contrast: small intervals, phrasing joined rather than detached, winds to the fore where strings had been before. The whole thing is worth repeating, and Beethoven does just that, but who can predict in advance how?

The finale’s power is obvious, and so is its driving, sinewy intensity. The mastery lies in making the effect cumulative and exhilarating, rather than merely wearying. The Seventh Symphony as a whole is one of Beethoven’s supreme achievements in long-range musical strategy. In some respects this was best understood a few years later by the unassuming Franz Schubert, whose own late symphonies, No.8 (Unfinished) and No.9, show the same repetition of material over large spans, but enlivened by telling modifications in the harmonic treatment.