Mystery surrounds the two movements of Franz Schubert’s unfinished Eighth Symphony.
Why, after nearly completing a piano score for a succeeding scherzo in the autumn of 1822, did he stop? Although the 25-year-old Schubert lived six more years, in the words of musicologist Michael Steinberg, “he seemed not to give it another thought,” choosing instead to move on to other large-scale works such as the “Great” C Major Symphony. Perhaps the onset of syphilis was a factor. Or, as Steinberg has speculated, perhaps “he simply didn’t know how to proceed.”
The two movements of the “Unfinished” Symphony are unlike anything that came before. They leave behind the light, airy classicism of Schubert’s previous symphonies. Schubert felt the profound influence of Beethoven, whose Seventh and Eighth Symphonies premiered in 1813 and 1814, respectively. But while Beethoven dealt in dynamism, compressed energy, and the development of compact motifs, Schubert entered a magical, expansive world of song, atmosphere, and time-altering drama. Conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt described the “Unfinished” Symphony as “having all the strangeness and surprise of a stone from the moon.”
The first movement (Allegro moderato) begins with a single, haunting, shadowy musical line, played by the cellos and basses. The melancholy home key of B minor was an unusual choice for a symphony at the time. The first theme is introduced by a colorful woodwind voice that may be difficult to identify. It is a blend of the solo oboe and solo clarinet. The theme emerges over a propelling bass pizzicato line, and a hushed, shivering figure in the violins. As the quietly anxious melody is heard again, the horn joins with a recurring two-note counter statement. Unfolding in 3/4 time, the rhythm keeps us off balance with jarring irregularities. Schubert’s music is filled with an effortless sense of modulation, and the second theme arrives suddenly in sunny G major. Introduced by the cellos, the contour of the gently waltzing melody is made up of mirror images, allowing it to continuously loop back to where it started. The movement’s haunting undercurrent returns with a sudden, stern fortissimo interruption. Listen for the shockingly dissonant chord which precedes the repeat of the exposition section. The development section begins as a ghostly whisper, and grows in strength. Foreshadowing the mighty, gradual crescendos of Bruckner’s symphonies, the music is at once majestic and terrifying. The trombones, long associated with the supernatural, are a prominent underlying voice.
Moving to E major, the second movement (Andante con moto) remains in the triple meter, now 3/8. The two movements are related motivically, and share gently rocking and syncopated underlying rhythms. In the opening bars, bassoons and horns serenely set the stage. A tender melody, played by the violins, is embraced by a cello countermelody. The clarinet introduces a second theme poised between melancholy and sunshine. Beginning in C-sharp minor, the music turns suddenly to C-sharp major as it is picked up by the oboe. In the coda, there is a brief, heart-stopping moment where the music seems to lose its way harmonically. An echo of the opening theme seems suspended in mid-air as it searches for a way forward, before fading into peaceful acceptance.
After setting aside the manuscript, Schubert entrusted it to his friend, Joseph Hüttenbrenner, who passed it along to his brother Anselm. At one point, the score was nearly accidentally burned for kindling by a household maid. In March of 1860, Hüttenbrenner passed a series of manuscripts on to the conductor Johann Herbeck, writing that among them is a treasure, the B-minor Symphony, which we put on a level with the great Symphony in C, his [orchestral] swan song, and any one of the symphonies by Beethoven.” The “Unfinished” Symphony was not performed publicly until 1865, 43 years after it was composed.
Reviewing the Vienna premiere, Eduard Hanslick wrote,
When…clarinet and oboe in unison began their gentle cantilena above the calm murmur of the violins…’Schubert’ was whispered in the audience. …And when, after this nostalgic cantilena in the minor, there followed the contrasting G major theme of the violoncellos, a charming song of almost Ländler-like intimacy, every heart rejoiced, as if, after a long separation, the composer himself were among us in person. The whole movement is a melodic stream so crystal clear, despite its force and genius, that one can see every pebble on the bottom. And everywhere the same warmth, the same bright, life-giving sunshine!
The Andante develops more broadly. A few odd hints here and there of complaint or irritation are interwoven…their effect is that of musical thunder clouds….As if loath to leave his own gentle song, the composer puts off too long the end….
The tonal beauty…is fascinating. With a few horn figurations and…a clarinet or oboe solo, Schubert achieves…effects which no refinement of Wagnerian instrumentation can capture.
At the premiere, the light, effervescent final movement of Schubert’s Third Symphony stood in as in inadequate finale. There has since been speculation that the Entr’acte for the play Rosamunde might have been the Symphony’s intended finale. But efforts to “finish” Schubert’s work seem unnecessary. The two monumental movements stand on their own.
I. Allegro moderato:
II. Andante con moto:
Five Great Recordings
- Schubert: Symphony No. 8 in B Minor, D. 759 “Unfinished,” Claudio Abbado, Chamber Orchestra of Europe Deutsche Grammophon
- Nikolaus Harnoncourt and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe
- Günter Wand and the Berlin Philharmonic
- George Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra
- Carlos Kleiber and the Vienna Philharmonic
Featured Image: a watercolor portrait of Franz Schubert (1825), Wilhelm August Rieder