It was a surprise to read, in a recent review of my Stuttgart recordings of Haydn’s 12 London Symphonies, the repeated suggestion that his second movements are meant to be “slow”. I had supposed that this idea had withered on the vine forty years ago, as a result of scholarship and historical performance practice. But here it is, still around twenty years into the new millennium. The reviewer finds the “Clock” movement in Symphony 101, which I play at exactly the 60 of every clock known to man, “not appropriate”; and the second movement of 102, played at an extremely gentle quarter= 42 as “almost trivial at this hurried pace”.  Strange views indeed. I would strongly suggest that this isn’t a matter of taste, but of fact. Maybe we could by now venture past the old eccentricities of Furtwängler and Böhm, and review the historical evidence.

ANDANTE AND ADAGIO

1. Andante doesn’t mean slow. It means “move along”. I remember an Italian/American policeman in New York once saying to me “Andate fella, get a move on”.

2. An eighteenth century audience’s experience of music, outside of church services, was primarily dance. Fast or gentle, it always implied movement. Haydn’s music was written to entertain, not to fill us with awe.

3. Quantz, Turk, Koch, Pleyel, and other music theorists, wrote that Andante lies “midway between fast and slow”. Midway.

4. Leopold Mozart wrote that “Allegretto has much in common with Andante”.

5. Christian Schubart wrote charmingly that “Andante is a walking movement which kisses the adjacent border of Allegro”.

6. In recent years research  into linkage points, where two tempi meet in symphonies, and particularly in operas, have yielded a rich harvest of measurable tempi. Plain Allegro turns out to be not over fast, while Andante really moves along. Because the tradition was that when two tempi meet, with no Fermata, there was a relationship between them. Twice as fast, one third, two thirds etc.

One famous Mozart example is the first movement of his Post Horn Serenade. A slow introduction gives way to a lively Allegro. If you guess it might be twice as fast you can find the proof that you were right because at the recapitulation, as a nice surprise, Mozart  includes the slow introduction but now written out as an Allegro! There are innumerable such proofs in his music.

7. Maelzel’s metronome, being developed during Haydn’s last years, shows Adagio at 60 and Andante at around 70!

8. Adagio was sometimes spoken of as “slow” but, judging by the 60 above, seems to have been thought of as a sort of lazy Andante. It means “Easy”.

When I remonstrated with my policeman in New York, he said “Adagiati”,- “Take it easy”. Largo means “Broadly”,- pretty slow. Only Lento actually means slow, and the word does not feature in Haydn or Mozart.

BEATS AND MEASUREMENTS

1. In the 18th century, and much of the 19th, pulse was shown and felt by the quarter note in 2/4, 3/4, and 4/4, and by the dotted quarter in 6/8 . The eighth note was simply not a unit of measure. For instance Leopold Mozart declared it would be “laughable” if the director were to beat the eighths in 6/8 time. Instead he should beat in a gentle 2. That 2 in a bar would be impossible if the pace were too slow,- which again evidences a moving tempo.

2. It’s worth reminding ourselves here that Alla Breve, for virtually all contemporary theorists, meant twice as fast as Common Time. In 4/4 Alla breve the beat was the half notes, not the quarter notes.

3. Early metronome indications  were often shown in eighths. Sometimes this was no doubt for ease of accuracy, but more usually because the machines didn’t show numbers much below 40, so instead of the quarter note the eighth was used. These eighth note marks misled many 20th century conductors into supposing that they could beat in eighths. This is a serious mistake for the music. It is the likely cause for the reviewer’s concern about Symphonies 101 and102. In both cases the pulse is the quarter, not the eighth. No contemporary musician would have made that mistake. To repeat: the eighth note was not a unit of measure.

CZERNY

In the 1840s Carl Czerny published editions of Haydn’s London Symphonies arranged for Piano, with his own metronome suggestions. This was of course thirty years after Haydn’s time, but it was a period when music had actually got heavier rather than lighter. It would be possible to expect rather slower tempo suggestions.  It’s true that his Minuet suggestions were hopelessly influenced by the craze for the new Viennese Waltz, but the other movements are more informative. And in fact the second movement tempi are very much what we would expect for 18th century practice. They agree closely with the sources quoted above, and are remarkably lively. Here they are: (H means half note; Q means quarter note; Q. means dotted quarter. The numbers are rationalised to show comparison by beat).

93  Largo cantabile Alla breve H=38

94  Andante 2/4 Q=63

95  Andante cantabile 6/8 Q.=34

96  Andante 6/8 Q.=38

97  Adagio ma non troppo Alla breve H=56

98  Adagio 3/4 Q=54

99  Adagio cantabile 3/4 Q=54

100 Allegretto Alla breve H=80

101 Andante 2/4 Q=58

102 Adagio 3/4 Q=48

103 Andante piu tosto Allegretto 2/4 Q=66

104 Andante 2/4 Q=58

No sign of “slow” tempi here, apart perhaps from the Largo in No. 93. My own performances are not influenced by Czerny, rather by 18th century theory. Yet when I compare them with Czerny they are, in every case, almost identical. This was initially a big surprise, but it turned into a very instructive one. For here, in the new era of Early Romanticism, an experienced composer and performer is still regarding Adagio as  a pleasant 54, and Andante as a lively 63, very much echoing the traditions of the 18th century. You will notice that in 101 my tempo is virtually identical, and that in 102 I am actually slower than Czerny!

BEETHOVEN

Already by 1814 of course the metronome was bringing scientific accuracy to the question of tempo. Beethoven was busy with his contemporary, Maelzel, giving many of his works, and particularly his symphonies, clear metronome indications to accompany the descriptive Italian terms. Just as with Haydn and Mozart, Beethoven’s second movements are rarely “slow”. Here they are. (I show some relevant comparisons with Haydn’s London Symphonies alongside):

1 Andante con moto 3/8 Q.=40 (Haydn S.96=38)

2 Larghetto 3/8 Q.=30 (Haydn S.95=34)

3 Adagio assai 2/4 Q=40 (Haydn S.102=48)

4 Adagio 3/4 Q=42 (Haydn S.102=48)

5 Andante con moto 3/8 Q.=30 (Haydn S.95=34)

6 Andante con moto 3/8 Q.=36 (Haydn S.96=38)

7 Allegretto 2/4 E=76 (Haydn S.100=80)

8 Allegretto 2/4 Q=88 (Haydn S.100=80)

9 Adagio molto e cantabile Q=60 (Haydn S.98=54)

So we can see that, well into the 19th century, the “profound”, “serious” Beethoven is still advocating quite cheerful 18th century speeds for his symphonic second movements. That encourages me to think that Czerny too is likely to be valid and relevant for Haydn. The fact that so many twentieth century conductors arrogantly chose to defy the Master does not mean that they were right and he was wrong. On the contrary, the metronome marks are a part of the score. The conductors should have followed the evidence.

In point of fact this sense of movement was not uncommon for the whole of the nineteenth century. Mendelssohn, Schumann, Brahms and Mahler show many metronome examples of up-beat “slow” movements. It’s true that the ethos was changing: during the century slow movements tended to get slower, and fast ones faster. Back in the eighteenth century those movements were all grouped closer together, and ponderous pacing was a thing of the future.

CONCLUSION

There is still an unreasonable and unhistorical yearning for “slow movements” in music of the Classical period. Even today far too many conductors instinctively fall into that comfy, but insidious armchair. But instinct isn’t enough in dealing with music of the past; one must have a clear head for the evidence as well, and be prepared to open one’s mind.

Following the evidence of all of the above, a rule of thumb would seem to be that there are no really slow movements in Haydn’s music (or in Mozart’s or Beethoven’s for that matter). Sure, there are steady movements, particularly in the church music.  But slow? Nah! This is the Age of Enlightenment. Haydn’s is the world of Jane Austen, not Charlotte Bronte; of Pope not Tennyson; of Constable not Turner. His second movements are delightfully bright, witty, and charming,- entertaining.

Of course on recordings there are still crowds of sad old performances, whose tedious second movements still give pleasure to some. But let’s be honest: the evidence and indeed the music tell us otherwise. And with that evidence how glorious the music does sound!

Roger Norrington, 2023