
1 Andante. Nobilmente e semplice 鈥 Allegro
2 Allegro molto 鈥
3 Adagio
4 Lento 鈥 Allegro
Elgar was in the habit of describing works he hadn鈥檛 yet written. He mentioned a symphony as early as 1898; it was to be a sort of 鈥楨roica鈥 inspired by General Gordon, the popular, idealistic hero killed in the siege of Khartoum in 1885. By the end of 1899 Elgar had actually written a theme, and his wife Alice mentioned hearing 鈥榮craps鈥 in 1901. But some of these early ideas probably ended up in Elgar鈥檚 Second Symphony rather than his First, and without a commission fee to allay his persistent anxieties about money (鈥業 can only get commissions to write rot,鈥 he said), he didn鈥檛 get down to work until the summer of 1907; he finished the score by the end of September the following year.
For a long time Elgar had promised to dedicate a work to the conductor Hans Richter, who had made a poor job of the first performance of The Dream of Gerontius and wanted to make amends. Richter was conductor of the Hall茅 Orchestra at the time, and gave the symphony鈥檚 first performance at one of their concerts in the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, on 3 December 1908. In those days, it was usual to clap between movements, but after the slow third movement, the response was especially warm, and Elgar was called on to the platform to take several bows. The press were there in force, and unanimously celebrated a triumph. Under the heading 鈥楾he Musical Event of the Year鈥, the Daily Mail wrote: 鈥業t is quite plain that here we have perhaps the finest masterpiece of its type that ever came from the pen of an English composer.鈥 (One wonders what Stanford and Parry thought of that.) The Birmingham Daily Post invoked Gerontius 鈥 鈥榓 Gerontius who instead of dying has continued to live and is all the better for the agony of spirit he has been through鈥 鈥 summing up: 鈥業t is a work not merely of English but of European significance.鈥
Richter, the champion of not-long-dead Old Masters like Wagner and Brahms, took the same view. When he was about to rehearse Elgar鈥檚 symphony just three days after the Manchester premiere, he addressed the London Symphony Orchestra with these words: 鈥楪entlemen, let us now rehearse the greatest symphony of modern times, written by the greatest modern composer, and not only in this country.鈥 Elgar, incidentally, thought Richard Strauss the greatest composer of the day, but then Strauss never wrote a symphony without a programme, the sort which Elgar held was the 鈥榟ighest form of art鈥.
In contrast with Manchester, the first London performance, at the Queen鈥檚 Hall in Langham Place, was packed out, and Richter had to repeat it later in the month. The American premiere followed in January, and within a year there were nearly 100 performances worldwide. The great Arthur Nikisch, who conducted the symphony in Leipzig, told the press: 鈥榃hen Brahms produced his first symphony it was called 鈥淏eethoven鈥檚 Tenth鈥, because it followed on the lines of the nine great masterpieces of Beethoven. I will therefore call Elgar鈥檚 symphony 鈥渢he Fifth of Brahms鈥.鈥
Comparisons with Old Masters may do more harm than good, but Nikisch had a precise reason for referring to Brahms; for while Elgar鈥檚 orchestral exuberance and flamboyant melodic style come close to Richard Strauss, the finale of the First Symphony is, albeit sporadically, a homage to Brahms, whose Third Symphony Elgar particularly admired. Brahms never asked for a cor anglais, nor for two very active harps, in any symphony he wrote, and the more one thinks of Brahmsian parallels in Elgar鈥檚 finale, the more personal it seems. 鈥業 am really alone in this music,鈥 he wrote.
In the first movement, the long opening theme (an unusually daring way to open a symphony!) is a 鈥榤otto鈥 for the whole work, with the distinct feeling of a procession that passes by, is glimpsed now and then from afar, and eventually returns. The main action of the first movement starts, after 50 bars, with an abrupt change of tempo (Allegro), as well as mood (appassionato) and key (D minor). The theme is terse and promising, just the thing for future passages of 鈥榙evelopment鈥. But Elgar also allows for a strong rhapsodic element, as ideas roll forth one after the other, and the pulse swings between duple and triple, even before the sweet and slightly sad second subject, in which the first violins are garlanded decoratively by a flute. When the processional motto returns at the end of the movement, it does so faintly, played by the last pair of players only in each string section, so that it is just about heard, but hardly seen. (Instead of perceiving what is there, said Elgar, 鈥榶ou don鈥檛 see that something is not there鈥.)
From A flat major, the home key of the first movement, the second shifts to F sharp minor. It鈥檚 a scherzo, scurrying along at a brisk one-in-a-bar. It鈥檚 also a quick, rather self-important march, and there鈥檚 a more relaxed playful contrast that Elgar told an orchestra to play 鈥榣ike something we hear down by the river鈥. Touches of lyrical sweetness enter even this movement. At the end, the march theme is recalled, slower and softer, to prepare the way for the Adagio, which follows without any break in continuity, the violins鈥 held F sharp providing a hinge to turn into D major.
Their new theme is actually a slowed-down transformation of the scurrying pattern at the start of the scherzo/march. Richter hailed Elgar鈥檚 Adagio as the sort of slow movement that Beethoven would have written. He was paying a compliment, but Elgar鈥檚 luxuriant melancholy and iridescent harmony are worlds away from Beethoven.
The final movement begins stealthily, with recollections (played only by the back desks of cellos and violas) of an angular motif from the first movement, followed by spooky hints of a march theme to come later.
A clarinet stretches a short phrase (it鈥檚 almost a yawn!) that is going to be a driving force later, too, and there鈥檚 an intriguingly slantwise reference to the processional motto from the first movement. The main Allegro is launched in a spirit of Brahmsian belligerence and the chief, though by no means the only, theme, when it arrives, is a strutting little march. (When he recorded the symphony in 1930, Elgar significantly speeded up at this point.) It enters quietly but takes on tremendous swagger as it鈥檚 repeated.
The Brahmsian business eventually works off its energy, and a feeling of reconciliation supersedes. The march is smoothed out into something broad and serene, and then, in all its glory, the processional motto from the first movement returns, against which all the other players, united, hurl themselves, like breakers on the sea-shore, though at irregular intervals 鈥 an unforgettable effect.
Programme note 漏 Adrian Jack