Русские видео

Сейчас в тренде

Иностранные видео


Скачать с ютуб Haydn Symphony No. 101 in D Major “The Clock” в хорошем качестве

Haydn Symphony No. 101 in D Major “The Clock” 5 лет назад


Если кнопки скачивания не загрузились НАЖМИТЕ ЗДЕСЬ или обновите страницу
Если возникают проблемы со скачиванием, пожалуйста напишите в поддержку по адресу внизу страницы.
Спасибо за использование сервиса ClipSaver.ru



Haydn Symphony No. 101 in D Major “The Clock”

Haydn Symphony No. 101 in D Major “The Clock” live, January 2020 Audio and Video: Michael Lascuola Overview: Franz Joseph Haydn Born March 31, 1732, Rohrau, Austria; died May 31, 1809, Vienna, Austria Work Composed: 1793-94 Haydn’s place in music history is assured. He was one of the developers of the sonata form, the quintessential form of his era, and he both invented and perfected the medium of the string quartet. But Haydn’s role in the emancipation of composers is equally important. While he was not the first major composer to thrive without economic ties to either royalty or church – that was Handel – his example inspired a generation of younger composers. All the compositions Haydn composed before the age of 46 belonged to his employer, the princes of Esterházy in Austria. Only when he renegotiated his contract in 1779 did Haydn acquire the rights to his own compositions; Haydn biographer David Wyn Jones has called the contract “a catalyst in the next stage in Haydn's career, the achievement of international popularity.” By 1790, when the newest Prince Esterházy decided to economize by reducing Haydn’s duties and allowing him to travel, he was the best-known European composer, and especially popular in London, where, Wyn Jones writes, “hardly a concert did not feature a work by him.” German violinist and impresario Johann Peter Salomon commissioned him to compose new symphonies to be performed in London. The first six “London” symphonies were premiered during his first visit in 1791-92, and were so successful that he was engaged for a second visit. This symphony was premiered in 1794, during his second trip to London. Like nearly all Haydn symphonies, it’s formally inventive. The slow, minor introduction gives us most of the first movement’s thematic material, although in this case the material is so simple – for the most part it’s a scale – it’s hardly necessary. The allegro is a brisk 6/8, a meter that Haydn usually reserves for finales. As is customary in his sonata movements, the second theme is based on the same material as the first. The development section is unusually long, nearly as long as the exposition. With a composer of Haydn’s skill, such simple thematic material is a blessing for an audience, as his inventiveness is so clearly on display as he fragments, turns upside down, and otherwise transforms it. The symphony gets its nickname from the second movement’s more-or-less steadily ticking accompaniment. The movement’s form is unconventional but utterly convincing, with an opening statement of the theme; a dramatic minor-key interlude based on the theme; a charming restatement of the theme, with the tick-tock accompaniment now divided between bassoon and flute, more than two octaves apart; and a second interlude that leads to a triumphant restatement of the theme that reveals a close relationship to the first movement. The minuet is the longest Haydn ever composed. Witty off-beat accents characterize the opening section. The trio is famous for its imitation of a not-entirely-competent village band, with things threatening to spiral out of control but never quite doing so. (Especially remarkable is a passage in which Haydn fits phrases that are two-and-a-half beats long into a metric structure that’s three beats long.) The finale, although brief, is arguably Haydn’s greatest, in its seemingly effortless combination of simple charm and compositional virtuosity – the sort of piece that impresses us, not that Haydn is so smart, but that we are so smart for comprehending it. Like the first movement, it’s a sonata form in which the second theme is based on the same material as the first. But it takes a strange twist, and what sounds like a repeat of the exposition turns out to be the development section. The recapitulation is a radical transformation of the opening, a pianissimo fugato that musicologist Charles Rosen described as “radiant poetry and wit.” What for many composers would be an academic exercise instead sounds enchanting.

Comments