Antonín Dvořák (1841–1904)
Symphony No. 9 in E minor, Op. 95
‘From the New World (1893)
1. Adagio – Allegro molto
2. Largo
3. Scherzo: Molto vivace
4. Allegro con fuoco
It would be hard to exaggerate the impact
of America on Dvořák. Although he travelled
frequently in Europe, these relatively brief exposures to
foreign culture did little to prepare him for the pace of life
in New York. Dvořák was both fascinated and faintly
appalled at the rich variety about him, ranging from judging an
opera competition to a visit to Buffalo Bill’s Wild West
Show. He arrived in New York at the end of September 1892, just
in time to experience the 400th-anniversary celebrations of
Columbus’s ‘discovery’ of the New World.
While the crowds and marching bands had a more palpable effect
on portions of the cantata, The
American Flag, which he completed
early in the new year, the welter of impressions delivered in
rapid succession in this bracing city doubtless had a profound
effect on the new symphony.
Dvořák worked on his symphony
‘From the New World’ between January and May 1893.
The premiere was given at Carnegie Hall on 16 December the same
year, to huge public acclaim, by the orchestra of the New York
Philharmonic Society under the baton of Anton Seidl. Curiously
enough, although the symphony has enormous popular appeal,
critics rarely give it the unqualified approval accorded his
Seventh Symphony. In style, the ‘New World’ Symphony
differs considerably from Dvořák’s earlier
works in the genre, avoiding the pervasive seriousness and
dense technical argument of the Seventh, but also steering
clear of the free-wheeling formal experiment of the Eighth.
During his first year in America, Dvořák adopted a
much simpler view of musical structure, allowing the familiar
processes of sonata style to shape his ideas to a far greater
extent than in recent works completed in Prague.
This new simplicity of outline may in part
have resulted from Dvořák’s work in the New
World as a teacher – after all, he had come to New York
as the Director of the National Conservatory of Music, to high
hopes within cultured circles that he would found a new
American school of composition. It is thus significant that at
the first performance of the symphony, along with his wife and
daughter, Dvořák shared his box with two of his
American pupils. Although there are no actual spirituals in the
symphony, the composer claimed them in part as inspiration.
Thus he may have intended the work as a model for American
composers, showing the way in which topical music might be used
within a straightforward classical framework. There is also an
extramusical element in the symphony. Mrs Jeanette Thurber, who
had brought Dvořák to New York, was very keen that
he should write an opera and in the background to the symphony,
and the slow movement in particular, are sketches for such a
word based on Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha. Although critical opinion has tended to emphasise
the symphony’s Czech qualities, the composer certainly
saw the work as a repository of reactions to the vast and
variegated country in which he found himself and clearly
adopted a new approach for a new audience.
The qualities of melodic freshness and
rhythmic variety that have commended the symphony to listeners
since its first performance are apparent throughout. To create
a sense of expectation, Dvořák provides
introductory passages to each of the four movements: in the
Scherzo and finale, these are little more than curtain-raisers,
although for the Largo he provided unforgettable, expansive
chords by way of a prelude to what has become his most famous
melody. The slow introduction of the first movement is the
broadest in the symphony and builds energetically to the main
theme of the Allegro, foreshadowing many of its principle
features. The melody itself is both hummably memorable and an
effective linchpin for the powerful development – it
also does sterling service as a motto theme in the later
movements of the symphony.
The clarity of design in the slow movement
allows the full beauty of its celebrated main theme to emerge
unadulterated. Basically in a three-part outline, there are
subtle links between the melodic elements in the movement and
other parts of the symphony. This is made explicit by the
introduction of thematic fragments from the first movement just
before the return of the Largo’s main theme. A similar
recall of material marks the end of the Scherzo when, after the
presentation of Scherzo and Trio – a radiant,
waltz-like interlude – Dvořák plunges into a
vigorous reconsideration of material past and present.
The finale threatens to founder on the
same principle: after a thrilling initial theme and some
driving subsidiary material, we are treated to a kind of
potpourri of the main motifs from the previous three movements
with little sense of the drama and purpose which informed their
reappearance previously. But with the reprise of the main theme
Dvořák collects himself and offers much more subtle
transformations of earlier melodies. The conclusion comes in a
blaze of glory with valedictory glances at earlier themes, some
of the most grinding dissonances the composer ever essayed, and
a heartfelt final chord that dwindles memorably into silence.
Programme note © Jan Smaczny