Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
Symphony No.3, Op.52
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
London ffrr recording, printed in the USA
Symphony No.3
1) Allegro moderato
2) Andantino con moto
3) Moderato - Allegro ma non tanto
In October and May
Every night and every day
I was a fool
“” I was a Fool — Laura Veirs
It’s been a little while since my last post on here, in the interim some very exciting things have been percolating elsewhere. I recorded three more episodes of the Remote Podcast for Ludwig Van Toronto; had a great conversation with the artistic director of the Fall For Dance North festival to launch the Blue Riband Podcast; plus the literary arm of this platform has had some great virtual interactions: Word on the Street festival’s artistic director and owner of Toronto’s Famous Last Words bar both stopped by here to share some insights. Please check out these little kernels of activity that’s been keeping us busy and artistically fulfilled.
Cover design for smART Magazine, by Jeremy Lewis
Elsewhere, a project I’ve been working on for a couple months now finally emerged: smART Magazine is a new online publication by Lighthouse Immersive, which casts a unique spotlight on the intersection of the performing arts and digital creations. Lighthouse Immersive is the production company behind Toronto’s Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit, so the first issue of the magazine focuses on the sights and sounds and people that make the exhibit possible despite the pandemic circumstances. It was an honour to be asked by the company to develop this platform, and it’s been a pleasure to work with a very talented team of writers and illustrators to bring this magazine to reality. PLEASE check it out, it’s been a labour of love and I’ve been very lucky to be engaged in this partnership with a very innovative company in the arts.
On to the music. This week I’ve been basting in the meat and potatoes of the weekly roster of vinyl selections underlying this journal: nothing like a sprightly thirty-minute symphony to bring you back to the basics of the genre. Moreover, it’s October, otherwise known as the Sibelius solstice in this music journal—I’m glad I made my return to keeping it in time for this next four weeks of selections from the Finnish composer’s body of work.
The last three Octobers on here have been dedicated to Sibelius, the pairing feels natural but hard to articulate. I was introduced to Sibelius’s symphonic world via his No.1, which remains my favourite, but the smaller and more eclectically assembled vehicle of this No.3 is near the top on my list of works I’d like to see live post-pandemic.
The third (rivalled only by the sixth) is the least performed of Sibelius’ symphonies. Sibelius’s harmonic language is becoming more wayward, and his characteristic fragmentation of ideas makes large swathes of the symphony elusive until you get to know it — and even then, you have to accept that elusiveness is part of the point. It is also very difficult to play. “” Robert Philip, The Classical Music Lover’s Companion.
The characteristic drone on low strings that frequents Sibelius’s works—particularly the tone poems, Nightride and Tempest—is given extensive treatment in two unrelenting movements (separated by the melodically satisfying Andantino). It’s also the lightest and most cheerful thing I’ve heard by Sibelius, a composer who I’ve come to define by the dark clouds and thunderbolts of his icy Violin Concerto.
The highlights of this symphony for me are spread out through all three movements, which is bonus feature that keeps one’s attention throughout. The first movement can perhaps be describes as Nightride once more. A sleek flying things that seldom lands, owing to the steady supply of ballistic energy from brasses and timpani. A pleasing contrast arrives via the slower second movement, which introduces the main theme as an extended repetitive duet between flutes and clarinets; the movement ends with an easy and unassuming waltz-like passage. The final movement returns to the same altitude and theme of the first via a slow and organic assembly of disagreeing phrases that leads to that same self-sustained drone of the opening movement—‘taming the chaos’ and the composure put it—it is as well a seemless stitch of the lightness of a scherzo and the grandiosity of a symphonic finale. This aimlessly meandering flight characterizes the most of the symphony, the last two minutes of which features a furious and uninterrupted dart on high strings that is quenched by a halting C major chord.
Song of the Week: ‘I Was A Fool’ — Laura Veirs
‘In the Woods at Georgeborn’ Gustave Cariot, 1932
It still doesn’t feel like October. Despite the return of fluorescent leaves, the sudden chill of the morning and inexplicable encore of summer in the afternoons. Insert something about how the pandemic has changed everything here. But it really has. One feels out of step with the season, and wanders how this stretch of time will look in the rearview; in the compartments of memory, I imagine the pile of Octobers is right next to that Mays. They’re the same colour, tended to by the same mood. May must be the un-cuffing season then, if October is the designated month for cuffing, for harvesting hints dropped all summer long. It seems one resolves the other’s riddle.
Throwback to: YR3 WEEk10, YR2 WEEK10
Click here for the full 2020/2021 roster of selected recordings