Date of composition: 1884-1890
Premiere: 18 December 1892 in the second version in the
Vienna Musikvereinssaal by the Vienna
Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of Hans Richter
Duration: 87 minutes
Performances by the Berliner Philharmoniker:
first performed on 29 October 1906, conductor: Arthur
Nikisch
“Half genius, half fool” – Hans von Bülow’s description of Anton Bruckner was not kind. The erstwhile chief conductor of the Berliner Philharmoniker’s paradoxical description is not atypical. Throughout his life, Bruckner struggled with the dichotomy between his high honours and his low origins, between intellectual flights of fancy and earthly irritations. Born the son of a village schoolteacher, his first contact with music was as a choirboy. He went on to become the organist of his native St Florianʼs Abbey and in Linz, and then court organist and professor of counterpoint in Vienna. However, he never shed his baggy suits, and never lost his heavy provincial accent; the latter has been handed down in phonetic transcriptions.
Just how badly he floundered in high society is amply demonstrated by the letter he wrote to Emperor Franz Joseph I in 1890, asking him “at the highest throne at the highest of his feet” whether he could dedicate his Eighth Symphony to him. As the letter continued, Bruckner practically drowned in obsequious phrases: “Your Emperor and Royal Apostolic Majesty; graciously wish to dedicate this Eighth Symphony to him. Your Imperial and Royal Apostolic Majesty will most graciously deign to grant the most reverent dedication in the case of the highest honour and most magnanimously permit the most submissive dedication to be placed on the title page.”
Fortunately, His Majesty obliged, and paid for the printing. Bruckner worked on the piece for a good three years (with interruptions). In the end, he had written the longest symphony in music history. The Adagio alone is 25 minutes long! The sombre, fateful opening of the first movement signals a drama that builds up repeatedly over long stretches until its powerful climax. Admirers will recognise Bruckner’s hallmarks, such as his signature rhythm of two crotchets and a triplet, or the peculiarity of using groups of instruments in blocks, like an organist pulling out different stops.
Bruckner wanted to commission his friend, the Munich conductor Hermann Levi, to conduct the premiere in 1887. There were two reasons for this: firstly, Bruckner had seen him conduct the world premiere of Wagnerʼs Parsifal in Bayreuth five years previously, and was deeply impressed. Secondly, he himself had a difficult time with the Viennese music press; his admiration of Wagner’s music rubbed prominent critic Eduard Hanslick up the wrong way, and he regularly heaped scorn upon the hapless composer. So the new work was initially intended to be performed abroad.
But to Brucknerʼs horror, Levi refused, recommending a reworking, which the composer – once the initial shock had been digested – set about doing. As a result, the woodwinds are scored in three parts throughout, allowing for maximum differentiation of sound. The Wagner tubas – a type of horn invented by the revered master himself – are no longer only heard in the finale, but also in the previous movements. This was the only Bruckner symphony ever to require harps, and the revision also gives them more playing time. His comment: “A harp is in no other symphony of mine, but I needed help!”
He also changed the form, which Levi had criticised as “mould-like”: he swapped the middle movements so that the first movement is now followed first by the more easy-going Scherzo, then the hymn-like Adagio. And he revised the ending of the first movement, which now fades out quietly, instead of its first powerful apotheosis. In doing so, he created a more plausible overall dramaturgy: While the first version seemed top-heavy, and had shot its powder early on, everything now leads up to the finale, which is described as “solemn”. The alterations proved effective; at the premiere, in late 1892, which was given in Vienna after all, the audience received the piece with enthusiastic cheers. After every single movement (!), Bruckner had to take a bow on stage. Enthusiasm for the work continues to this day.