Haydn London

These two symphonies were composed for Haydn's second visit to London, during the winter months of 1794-95. He knew the musicians for whom he was writing, and they were a virtuoso ensemble. Therefore these are among the largest scaled, most technically demanding among all his symphonies.

This release from the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen under conductor Paavo Järvi inaugurates a new series of Haydn's 12 London Symphonies, the last works he wrote in the genre. These are popular works with no shortage of interpretations on the market, but Järvi's readings are distinctive, and the album landed on classical best-seller lists in the spring of 2023. Järvi places Haydn's characteristic humor in the context of high-intensity, high-energy readings. Consider the Trio of the Minuet in the Symphony No. 101 in D major ("The Clock"), where a remarkable rising flute figure rises to a ninth above the tonic, a move not really sanctioned by Classical-period harmony.

These two last symphonies by Haydn (beautifully performed here) crown a lifetime of musical experimentation and orchestral mastery. No. 103, as the title implies, begins with a drum solo–a shocking innovation at the time, and one which "excited the deepest attention" in contemporary audiences. The creepy introduction reappears just before the end of the first movement, and it's a strategy that Haydn's pupil Beethoven immediately copied in his famous Pathetique Piano Sonata. The London Symphony had a longer reach still: The finale of Brahms' Second Symphony pays affectionate homage to one famous passage, but all of this music is just as valuable for itself as for its impact on later generations.

The Surprise Symphony was, before the Mozart craze of the early 1990s, the most famous piece of classical music after Beethoven's Fifth, and if it gets into some feature film it could well regain it's former position. It says something for Haydn's ability to write consistently interesting and witty music that the most popular, "named" part in a symphony (this one included) is likely to be the slow movement. In other words, Haydn is often at his most entertaining just when other composers are putting you to sleep. Symphony No. 93 also has a surprise in its slow movement–a highly scatological comment from the bassoon at the very end, followed by what can only be described as orchestral laughter.

"What is striking in the Symphonies 97 en 98 are the beautiful slow movements: Haydn again shows us that he is the master of our feelings. The menuets are catchingly dansant, the trios are refreshing. The first movements of these symphonies start with - as often is the case with Haydn- with a short, slow introduction and directly after that they burst into a fast tempo full of joyfulness and inventiveness. He makes simple themes develop into masterworks in an unsurpassed way. The closing movements, fast in character and starting off with only the strings, are astonishing because of their vitality and structure. Haydn is at his best in the 12 London Symphonies."

Most often performed in an arrangement for string quartet, this recording of Haydn’s The Seven Last Words of our Saviour on the Cross is a unique proposition – offering Haydn’s original instrumental meditations alongside their choral counterparts.

Recorded in St John's Church West Norwood, London in March 2022, Florilegium release their 31st Channel Classics album: Haydn Symphonies Nos. 6, 7 and 8. This recording involves 18 members of Florilegium, the exact same number Haydn had at his disposal when he composed these symphonies shortly after arriving at Esterhazy in 1761. Haydn’s first symphonies for his new employer, Prince Paul Anton Esterházy, form a group of three entitled Morning, Noon and Night. Perhaps these were a result of the Prince’s suggestion that Haydn write something programmatic along the lines of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.