I know it was you, Michael. You broke my heart.

Michael Haydn: Violin and Flute Concertos

I've never warmed to Michael Haydn, who I always connect in my mind with Fredo Corleone from The Godfather 2. In the shadow of his older brother Franz Joseph, he always seems to underperform what one might hope for, considering his bloodline and the obvious advantages he must have had. So, seeing this new disc from a group which I really admire, the Capella Savaria from Hungary, under Zsolt Kalló, who also plays the solo violin (the flutist is Andrea Bertalan), I set aside my prejudices, and tried to give Michael Haydn a chance.

In his wonderful liner notes to a disc of music by Luigi Boccherini that I recently reviewed, Emilio Moreno says,

"His musical language is possessed of a 'recognisably unidentifiable' quality, that Ciceronian 'nescio quid' to which his Enlightenment era contemporaries would always describe by employing the hackneyed 'no sé qué', when owning up to their inability to define the experience, within the limits of the expressible, of the beauty, loftiness, ease, sprezzatura, lightness, spirit and inventiveness which all seem to come together in the semantic range of the 'je ne sais quoi' and 'non so che' of philosophers and aesthetes when they wanted to explain the music of the brilliant and distinctive, often misunderstood, outsider who was 'Don Luis Boquerini'." 

It's this 'no sé qué' that I've almost always found missing in Michael Haydn's music. And the mid-18th Century was a particularly dangerous time to do without a special sauce, since the galant schemas of the time were so strong and universal across European music. Without it there are only a series of hackneyed devices strung together in hackneyed ways.

I'm pleased to report that I did discover that 'no sé qué' in this album, though not where I expected it. The mature Violin Concerto in A major, probably written in 1776, is a decent piece of music, sounding more like Mozart than brother Franz Joseph. But even though there are some fine melodies the piece never takes off. Neither do the two Flute Concertos, both from around the same time. I hasten to say that this is not the fault of the excellent soloists, the orchestral players, the conductor, or indeed of the Hungaroton producer or engineers. I can't imagine more vital performances of this music, but the fact remains that these three concertos are all rather pedestrian.

It's the earliest work on the disc that impressed me the most: the Violin Concerto in G major, probably from 1764. This music is so strong that it was once mistaken for Joseph Haydn - a common enough situation at the time, to be sure, since Franz Joseph's musical brand was the most important in Europe. I believe that the big brother would have been proud if he had heard this music, especially played as well as it is here. Beauty: check, loftiness: check, ease: check, sprezzatura: check, lightness: check, spirit: check and inventiveness: check. Mozart would probably add a final quality: taste. I think we can check that one off as well.

Good work, Fredo!

Here is the first movement of the G major Violin Concerto:

Haydn Symphonies "Les Jeux et Les Plaisirs"

Joseph Haydn Symphonies 61, 66, 69

Michael Haydn Toy Symphony

Under the direction of Giovanni Antonini, the Kammerorchester Basel performs three middle-period Haydn Symphonies - numbers 61, 66 and 69 - with a special bonus for the youngsters out there. This is the 12th release in the wonderful Haydn 2032 series from Alpha; only 10 more years of these records until the project is complete and we can break out the cake with 300 candles for Papa Haydn!

This is a fun disc from start to finish. To be sure, in these symphonies Joseph Haydn makes use of the common tropes of the international galant style, but he always puts his own stamp on his symphonies. At this point in his career Haydn does not stray far from the galant schemata, but he conceals within them a complex and cunningly wrought art that seems effortless.

Giovanni Antonini is taking the long view of this immense series of symphonies; he has planned each album's program with care, taking into account the long arc of a great musical career as well as each hour and twenty minute segment. He's plucked three joyful works from 1775-76 to contrast with the more dramatic and erudite group in the 11th disc (which I reviewed here). The sense of fun is palpable in these performances; Antonini and his band are obviously enjoying playing this music, & that's immediately communicated to the listener.

Joseph Haydn's younger brother Michael has written a small kitsch masterpiece in his Toy Symphony, and it receives a spirited performance here. There are parts written for various toy instruments, from trumpet, drum and triangle to ratchet, quail, organ hens and cuckoo. The result is a splendid noise:

I was curious about the bird sounds, so I ran the symphony through the Merlin Bird ID app from The Cornell Lab of Ornithology. I was pleased to see that there was no fooling the Merlin algorithm; it heard no actual birds. As Susan Sontag says in her "Notes on Camp", 

"All camp objects, and persons, contain a large element of artifice. Nothing in nature can be campy."

As with every disc in the Haydn 2032 series, this release is matched with a Magnum photographer; in this case it's the fabulous Spanish photographer Cristina García Rodero. I was thrilled to see these photos, since I only knew her black and white pictures (which are stunning). A number included here are from García Rodero's 2020 exhibition "Holi, the celebration of love".  Holi is an Indian festival of colour, where young people throw colored powders to desire love, fortune and vitality, while they dance and sing in the streets and temples. What a follow-up to a lifetime of amazing black and white photography!

A promising start to a new series

Michael Haydn, like Mozart, wrote (more or less) 41 symphonies. Most of us didn't know what kind of music was in that series until the ground-breaking 6-CD set of complete symphonies on CPO, with Bohdan Warchal and the Slovak Chamber Orchestra. Now we begin a new series, across the border in the Czech Republic. Here is Patrick Gallois conducting a very loose Czech Chamber Philharmonic Orchestra Pardubice at the recording session. I love the bassist; he's obviously having fun!



Compare that with Warchal and the Slovaks' more buttoned-down, straighter approach. As solid as the CPO series is, it sounds more stolid by comparison.



Another reason I prefer the new recording is the harpsichord, which is brought forward in all of the symphonies on this disc. It's a charming grace note to the younger Haydn's charming but somewhat limited music. Talented as he was, Michael Haydn stayed behind in Salzburg though he had opportunities in the larger world, and his provincialism contrasts with his elder brother's cosmopolitan outlook.

In some ways Michael Haydn's music is closer to Mozart than to his brother. The highlight of the disc is the first movement of the D major Symphony, P21, from 1785, which begins with a meltingly beautiful Adagio, that's enhanced by a gorgeous harpsichord filigree here. The rest of the movement rushes forward in a jolly way, with an opera buffa feeling that's more Wolfgang than brother Joseph.

This disc is out June 10, 2016. I look forward to the continuation of this series!