Franz Schubert’s short life roughly coincided with that of Beethoven’s—both passing away within about a year of each other. But what a difference there is between the life and music of these two giants of early romantic music! Beethoven–world renowned with fiery temperament, and master of struggling to hammer out profundities from modest ideas—strode across the musical landscape of Europe as a conqueror. Schubert, on the other hand, lived quietly within a circle of close friends, rarely capturing the public’s imagination, while turning out an immeasurable wealth of melodies, apparently with little effort. In his brief career Schubert composed orchestral music, dabbled in opera, produced masterpieces of chamber music, and created a significant body of compositions for piano.
But his glory, and the world’s musical treasure, lies in his Lieder (German songs). It is astounding that he composed over six hundred of them, and they constitute the defining repertory within that genre. No one else—not Schumann, Brahms, Wolf, Strauss, nor Mahler—come close to the defining mark of Schubert. Almost single handedly he created the first masterpieces of German song, and so many, at that. They are constituted of marvelously imaginative piano accompaniments (which really are equal in importance to the vocal part); innovative harmonies; poetic texts of high artist quality; and an unprecedented gift for an endless variety of exquisite melodies. And it is an understanding and appreciation of the centrality of song in Schubert’s oeuvre that informs our encounter with his instrumental music, including his symphonies.
The “Great C Major” symphony was Schubert’s last completed symphony (variously and confusingly designated number seven, eight, or nine), written in the waning years of his life. Upon its composition Schubert sent it to the Vienna Philharmonic Society, but it did not receive a public performance until Robert Schumann found it and sent it back to Leipzig. There, it was given in a concert conducted by Mendelssohn in 1838. So, the composer never heard it. It is a rather long work for the time of its composition—and can be, today, if all repeats are taken (not recommended!). It makes innovative use of the brass, as one can hear throughout the first movement, with its prominent use of the horns and trombones. Schubert was the first composer—Beethoven’s use notwithstanding—to employ the trombones in a symphony in a varied and imaginative orchestration.
Listening points in this magnificent work include Schubert’s characteristic colorful harmonies (not unlike that of America’s great popular songs of the 1930s), and his inimitable gift for melody. There are those that carp about Schubert’s supposed weakness in developing ideas, simply restating his great tunes in different contexts as a substitute. That is misplaced criticism, for one will enjoy and appreciate the various guises in which his melodies constantly reappear in this symphony—it’s simply what differentiates Schubert, from, say, Beethoven. What to take away from a performance is the magic of his tunes, the romantic colors of his orchestration and his harmonies.
The first movement begins with a rather long introduction. Right off in this introduction the horns announce the chief idea, followed by the woodwinds—it will be important throughout the whole movement. Schubert works through several variations of it, set in his arresting signature harmonic richness. Finally, the tempo increases and we spin right into the movement, proper—in sonata form, of course.
Sonata form was never a strict vessel for accomplished composers, and the astute listener looks for and enjoys how creatively composers alter and vary the structure. And so it is here. There are several ideas in succession, led by the skipping motive first heard in the strings. When we arrive at the “second” theme (actually a collection of them), Schubert teases us with E minor, before getting to the “correct” G major. More surprises are in store as the last of the themes in the second group is softly intoned and elaborated by the trombones—their prominence in the symphony was a major innovation for the times. Moreover, they’re in the remote key of Ab minor; this kind of surprise is a signature of the composer. But, tradition calls, and Schubert ends in the “correct” key of G.
But not for long, for the development changes the trombone key to Ab major and begins a long dazzling examination of all the tunes heard so far. Working through a multiplicity of great ideas is just as “legitimate” a development as beating to death just one or two, and Schubert shows us just how ingratiating his way is. Even when reaching the recap, it begins not in the usual home key (C major), but C minor, and so it goes. When other composers might content themselves conventionally by reinforcing the basic key of the movement, Schubert rather cannot contain himself and leads us through a truly refreshing array of keys before settling in to conclude the affair with a vigorous and sparkling romp in C major. A measured, stentorian pronouncement of the opening motive nails the end.
The second movement is one of Schubert’s most delightful. Marked Andante con moto, it is a case study in exemplifying musicians’ traditional interpretation of “andante” as “walking along.” For it’s nothing if not a stroll, heard first in A minor in the ingratiating solo oboe, soon joined by a clarinet. Schubert, typically, doesn’t take long to shift to the parallel major. In an extended movement, Schubert takes his time to explore the possibilities of this first idea. And for that exploration, he builds out a movement with the elements of both the sonata form and a bit of a rondo, as well. So, after the second group of new themes in the pleasantly contrasting key of F major, the composer returns to the opening material in the original key (easy to spot, for it’s announced by softly “tolling” horns)—this is the rondo idea. And then, lo, finally, a kind of development, and again easy to hear, for the harmonies, the dynamics, and the texture all suggest something really different. It doesn’t last long, and Schubert ends with a return to all that heard in the first half, but in reverse order, to conclude. A series of soft chords from the trombones lead to the brief coda, and our long walk is over.
The scherzo movement is probably the chief culprit in leading Robert Schumann to make his famous characterization of this symphony’s “heavenly length,” and long it is, replete with multiple themes. Conductors take all of the many repeats at their peril. It’s a dance movement, of course, in this case, a lilting waltz tempo. The main scherzo section is symphonic in its fullness, with developmental sections. But, we’re saved from ennui by Schubert’s signature harmonic richness. The trio in the middle is in A major—not the classical G major—we should expect no less from Schubert, the proto-romantic. In contrast to the granular ideas of the scherzo, the trio is a “huge single melody,” serving well in every way as a foil. After which, in the usual fashion, an exact return to all of the opening scherzo section will bring it all to a conclusion.
The finale is a bold and assertive affair, with appropriately incisive ideas. The opening subject is a three-note “fanfare,” and the second subject has been deemed “grotesque.” In fact, when Mendelssohn conducted what was probably the first performance, the horns’ entrance with the latter’s powerful, repeated four notes caused a ruckus of derision in the orchestra. From these concise ideas Schubert builds up a finale of large dimensions and scope—altogether fitting for the breadth of the whole. The development begins in the suitably distant key of Eb, and in a masterful stroke of whimsy, so does the ostensible “recapitulation.” And after a typical delight on Schubert’s part in traipsing through all manner of keys in what should be a convention reinforcement of C major, he finally gets to the home key. But, the coda has its own surprises. For such an imposing work, it starts almost imperceptibly soft—and of course, not in C major, but in a chromatic ooze from A through Bb up to C. As the momentum builds to the end, Schubert teases us with emphatic outbursts of all manner of interesting and remote harmonic competitors for tonic, but, of course, massive C unisons finally seal the deal to his “Great” symphony.
–Wm. E. Runyan
© 2025 William E. Runyan