Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 6, No. 6 (1932-03)

March 1932, Vol. VI, No. 6 103 Of all the great names in music that of Haydn figures almost least on contemporary programs. Many of his some 1000 works have never been published. A complete edi- tion was begun around 1909, the hundredth anniversary of his death, but it has been pursued very sporadically and is still far from completion. His historical importance as the codifier of the sonata and symphony forms is universally recognized (indeed often over-emphasized), but the influence of his music today is entirely negligible. Strawin- ski may “go back” to Handel or Halffter to Scarlatti; Bach, Gluck, Mozart, and Beetho- ven still cast a potent spell on composers. But who goes back to Haydn? He has been damned by the affectionate nickname that suits him so well in some re- spects, so badly in others. He is “Papa” Haydn to us, a naive, happy-go-lucky, some- what garrulous old gentleman in a pig-tailed wig, whose music is nicely adapted for ap- preciation work with children and the musi- cally immature, or as a breathing space on a program devoted to weighty fare that re- quires close attention. Berlioz came close to sealing Haydn’s fate years ago when he wrote so cleverly of a Haydn symphony as belonging “naturally to the kind of naively good and gay music that recalls the innocent joys of the fireside and pot-au-feu. It goes and comes, never brusquely, noiselessly, in morning neglige, clean and comfortable; it hums a tune and now and then cracks its little joke; it opens the window to profit by a warm sunbeam; a poor man passes in the street, one is moved to humble pity and gives a sou or a bit of bread, and is satisfied within, and thanks the good God for having a sou and a bit of bread for the poor. Then one prudently takes an umbrella, and goes to the cafe to play dominoes and drink a pot of beer seasoned with inoffensive gossip; and at nine o’clock goes home, puts on a white cotton nightcap, says a prayer, gets into a good feather-bed and sleeps there in the peace of the Lord. The orchestra understood perfectly the style and ways of this amiable composition; it has drawn its claws, mewed gently, drunk its milk with a charming gracefulness, without opening wide its great lurid eyes, without bristling its long whis- kers, without shaking its tail, like a virtuous cat of the presbytery. The audience was de- lighted. No wonder: one likes to drink a bottle of good wine with an honest fellow when one meets him.” Well, no one can deny that Haydn is often the musical embodiment of the honest fellow and safe bourgeois. But is Berlioz’ the last and final word? Listening to the recorded performances of some of his best works one is seized with doubts. Not everything fits perfectly into the neat classification in which Haydn has been placed. A little study de- voted to the works that have been heard so often complacently and thoughtlessly, and one begins to realize than another French- man has said the truer word: “The smallness of the frame, astonishing at first and at which some are inclined to smile, envelops the minutest details in an atmosphere of in- timacy in which the charm of very simple language is felt. One submits to it willingly, and it is only later, when the times comes for analysis and reflection that one discovers how wrong was the first impression of a careless childish, spontaneous art. Haydn sings ingenuously, from-" the depth of his heart: composes scientifically with all his in- telligence.” It is not too late, even after two hundred years, to reconstruct our notions of Haydn and to gain a keener insight into his music. Instead of a perfunctory performance of a few familiar works, we can best honor him by a thoughtful hearing of some of his best works, preferably those less well known, to be heard and studied as carefully as we would hear and study an entirely new and stirring work by a modern composer. The list of recordings is small, but still offering considerable more scope than the average concert season. For the most part they have been done quite well, considering that Haydn’s music is seldom as easy to play well as it might seem on the surface, and also considering that many works of his time or earlier have been sadly over-weighed or dis- torted in contemporary performances. Of the one hundred and three symphonies (150 or more if we include the various over- tures and suites that used to be classed among the symphonies), only seven have been recorded, but this is not a bad propor- tion when it is remembered that scarcely more than a dozen are ever played in concert. Passing over the “Surprise” and “Clock” symphonies as already familiar, I need only say that both have been recorded superbly, the former by Koussevitzky, the latter by Toscanini and Harty. The “Military” sym- phony was one of the first by any composer to be recorded in this country. Unfortunate- ly the old discs by the Victor Orchestra have long since been withdrawn and the only electrical version, conducted by Kleiber for the Vox company in Germany is probably known only to a few unusually avid collectors. I recommend most strongly the splendid sym- phony in G known variously as No. 13, No. 88, or No. 8, according to the edition. It is