Despite being so renowned for his ability to express a Finnish national identity through his compositions as to have been featured on national currency, Jean Sibelius would have rather been a concert violinist. Given his first violin at 10 years old by his uncle, he became an accomplished player. However, his playing never rose to the level of his composing, which at 18, he started to do “on rainy days.” By his late twenties, he discarded his ambitions as an instrumentalist, stating, “I had begun my training for the exacting career of a virtuoso too late.” Within a decade of that declaration, Sibelius had composed the symphony you’ll hear Dec. 11.

Sibelius began to compose his second symphony while on holiday in Italy. Ruminating in his diary, he declared:

I was sitting in the dark in my castle when a stranger entered. I asked who he could be again and again — but there was no answer. I tried to make him laugh but he remained silent. At last the stranger began to sing — then Don Juan knew who it was. It was death.

Beside this thought, he jotted down a melody which would ultimately become the opening melody for the second movement. Several other of Sibelius’ influences are apparent throughout the symphony, including his love for nature, his love for Anton Bruckner — whom he at one time regarded as the greatest living composer — and his love for Finnish folklore and folk music.

Sibelius’ second symphony was composed later than many other “classical” works, just after the turn of the 20th century. Despite still fitting the category of “symphony,” Sibelius would stretch the genre to its limits. Instead of clear-cut themes in movements of predetermined forms and keys, Sibelius’ style often involves several shorter motifs and gestures. These motifs are built up, cut apart, and mixed together in such a way that it is sometimes difficult to know exactly where one ends and another begins. 

However, we can identify several patterns, some common to Sibelius and some unique to this symphony. See if you can pick some of them out: 

  • Three-note rising pattern: It is often claimed much of the symphony is a study on this very pattern. Listen for rising (and falling) runs of three consecutive notes.
  • Repeated notes: three or more of the same note in a row
  • Notes of contrasting duration: melodies that have very long and short notes juxtaposed
  • Rising and falling passages, including long scales, or simply passages in which the music moves in the same direction for an extended period of time
  • Hemiola: times when two instruments are playing notes in ratios of length 3/2 or 4/3, leading to a very uneven feel
  • Syncopated accompaniment: times when the pulse does not align with what an instrument is playing
  • Melodies with large leaps, especially in the downward direction: Most melodies have notes that are close together. Listen for places in the melody where it seems to “jump” downward, often at the end.
  • Wind duets: Many melodies are written for wind instruments playing the same rhythms but on different notes
  • Ostinato: when the accompaniment plays a repeated pattern

You can hear two of these patterns in the opening measures of the work, namely a three-note rising pattern in the violins where each note is repeated several times. The winds enter with a duet in the oboes and clarinets that includes sequences of three descending notes. 

The second movement, a traditional “slow” movement, contains four melodies that weave over its quarter-hour length in three parts. The first is a recitative, a chant, presented by the bassoons. It’s notable for the eighth-note rhythm and harmonic simplicity set against the triplet accompaniment. The second is introduced in its “fast” form by the strings as the pace quickens, and can be recognized by the descending leap between the final two notes. The third melody follows in the winds and is recognizable by its two opening quick notes, followed by a longer held note. This third theme serves as the climax terminating each section of the movement. The second section of this movement introduces the final melody, played in unison by the oboe and clarinets. Beginning this section, we also hear the “slow” version of the second melody, again coming from the strings.

The third movement is both the shortest and simplest in form of the work. It contains a fast section and slow section, which are each played twice. The melodies dominating each section draw substantially from first movement tropes. The “fast” melody is prepared by three unison strikes interrupting the flourishes of the string section. It is introduced by the bassoon and flute in unison, and with its hemiola shows similarities to motifs from the first movement. The slow melody is first heard in the oboe. Its first note is repeated several times, drawing from the motif that starts the symphony. A crescendo leads the work, without halt, into the final movement.

The finale starts triumphantly with six notes, grouped as two sets of three notes rising in the strings, and is returned with a herald from the trumpets. These two gestures dominate the first of two themes in the movement. The second is indicated by an ostinato scale in the cello section and violas. The melody is imbued with a tragedy or loss as irrevocable and incessant as its accompaniment. The second hearing of this theme is greatly extended, reinforcing its inconsolable nature, and leading the symphony to its cathartic ending.
Sibelius described this symphony as a “confession of the soul.” But the work is even more meaningful to Finns. At the time of its premiere, Finland faced increased oppression from the Russian Empire, which aimed to “Russify” the nation. The symphony’s triumphant conclusion is taken by many as a political statement. It is an ever-present reminder that music does not end at the composer’s intent but represents a unique relationship between the composer, performer, and listener. — Kevin Kauffman