Program Notes

Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904)

Symphony No. 6 in D Major, Op. Op. 60 (1880)

Scored for two flutes and piccolo, pairs of oboes, clarinets and bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, one tuba, timpani and strings  

In 1880, Antonín Dvořák was on cloud nine. His family life was happy, his Moravian Duets for two voices and his Slavonic Dances for piano, four hands had made him famous in the last couple of years, and he had won the Austrian State Prize. He was now seeing more performances of his works and his publisher was always pushing for more. The Slavic folk style that was so essential to his work had proven a huge success with the public, and this is no doubt what prompted the conductor Hans Richter to program the orchestral arrangement of the third of Dvořák’s Slavonic Dances in one of his concerts. Richter was so impressed and the public response so overwhelming that the conductor asked Dvořák to write a symphony for him and the Vienna Philharmonic.

This was an amazing opportunity for the Czech composer and he lost no time getting to work on it. The symphony was written between August and October, 1880, and the work was schedule to premiere the following month. But just as Dvořák was making his travel arrangements he received an apologetic letter from Richter postponing the performance. Further postponements were forthcoming over the next few months and the nature and variety of Richter’s excuses made Dvořák suspicious. Not withstanding the truth of these excuses, the composer turned out to be right.

There existed within the Vienna Philharmonic a certain anti-Czech feeling amongst some of its members. They felt that too much of Dvořák’s music was being programmed, and unfortunately had enough influence to effect the decisions. So the premiere was rescheduled once more, but this time it was relocated to Prague and entrusted to the direction of Dvořák’s friend Adolf Čech. As might be predicted, the performance was a rousing success.

The Sixth Symphony reflects Dvořák ’s contented state of mind in music that never fails to delight. The brilliant orchestration is so natural, so completely right that it seems almost as if it were born of its own free will rather than that of its composer. Despite its many influences – Brahms, Beethoven and Schubert among them – it is never anything less than a completely original statement in Dvořák’s uniquely personal voice.

The first movement’s main thematic idea is full of the joyful exuberance of Czech folk song. This gentle opening soon builds to a mammoth statement. Two more theme s are heard, one on horns and cellos, the other on solo oboe. From these humble beginnings, Dvořák presents us with an opening statement of almost constant development and boundless imagination. The development section is a delightful re-working of material mainly derived from the main theme, and eventually builds via rising figures leading the way for a re-statement of the opening music in the recapitulation. In the expansive coda, the music swells to immense proportions before slowly receding to a satisfied sigh. But just as the movement seems to be over, a final outburst of unbridled joy settles the matter.

The second movement begins in peaceful serenity. The dialogue between strings and woodwinds is handled with intimate delicacy. A passage of powerful resolve briefly interrupts the calm, but is quite happy to step aside after having its say. The tragic drama of the middle section comes upon us unawares, but its state of mind cannot be sustained here. After a further outburst of determination from the orchestra, the coda is breathtakingly lovely.

The third movement scherzo is a thrilling Furiant, a piece that relies for its character on a brisk pace and the alternation of triple and duple meters. Sudden dynamic contrasts add to the excitement. Contrast is swept away in the gentle middle section, where winds, especially the piccolo, take center stage. When the Furiant finally returns it is with a vengeance and the concluding bars are staggering.

The assertive finale presents a dazzling array of themes and moods. We are once again struck by the brilliantly diverse instrumentation and spellbound by the mightily confident spirit displayed throughout. Many have pointed out the similarities to Brahms’ recent Second Symphony that exist here. With so many other tributes present in this symphony, it is certainly not unimaginable that Dvořák was paying tribute to his friend, whose music he greatly admired. The work ends with an overwhelming presto dash toward its stirring conclusion.