The Third Symphony of Sibelius

By Michael McMullin

The third, though comparatively neglected, is the first of the fully mature symphonies of Sibelius, in which his unique qualities find full expression in their own right. In the second these are emerging from a romantic background and are present as motives contrasting with this background. The work is full of conflict, Sturm und Drang, and is a struggle with the past; or it is the labour of birth. But there is no conflict of this kind in the third, nor in the fifth, sixth or seventh. (The fourth is something quite different, to be discussed in its own context.) Here we are in a new world, and not struggling to be born. In a way the case is comparable with Beethoven's third, the "Eroica", in which the real Beethoven is heard for the first time; or with the fifth of Shostakovitch.

The distinctive elements or combination of elements in Sibelius' mature symphonic style may be defined in terms of form, orchestration and philosophy, or view of the world. Or, in other words, of spiritual content, or level of reality or consciousness, or of the message or vision conveyed through his music for humanity at its present historical juncture, the form, orchestration and method, and technique generally, naturally have to be consistent with this content or message and part of it; it is the means by which it is conveyed, and all this is the subject of aesthetic analysis.

"In the opinion of Sibelius the form of a work was the necessary consequence of the musical content"• (Santeri Levas in: Sibelius? A Personal Portrait.) Our approach assumes that the musical content is synonymous with meaning; if music has no meaning, then any kind of analysis must be senseless. Meaning however implies the relation of something to everything else, ultimately to the whole of creation, and cannot exist solely "in terms of the music itself", or without reference to the "extra-musical", in spite of current prejudices on this subject. Obviously it cannot exist solely in terms of anything, as such an idea contradicts itself. Meaning is conveyed through symbolism, rooted in sense-perception, and art is symbolical in the first place through sense-perception, both direct and suggested.

It is precisely in carrying through these principles in an integral way that the music of Sibelius is so distinctive and Significant. In symphonic terms (epic) they are fully developed from the third symphony onwards, these symphonies have been called "symphonies of suggestion", and this is true in the sense that they are symphonies suggestive of a particular setting or background, of particular landscapes, or seascapes, They refer to natural forces and the contexts in which these are manifest, to vast vistas, spatial or temporal, and to the elements in nature as embodiments of cosmic principles. Ultimately we were concerned with archetypes or ultimate symbols, and symbols as the primary reality; the concrete or material world as a revelation of a higher and preceding reality. We are concerned with myth, rather than mere fact, and this is of course the world of the Kalevala.

The perception of a higher world starts however through sense-perception, "If you want to know the invisible take a very close look at the visible".1 Music exists in the first place in terms of the qualities of sound, and these are active or expressive as direct sensation* 'they are suggestive of the visible world by association, imparting both emotional and physical significance. In Sibelius' mature style the treatment of the orchestra forms an integral part of this process, the elements of the orchestra tend to correspond with the elements of nature. However generally they are interpreted, the strings, woodwind and brass are three different elements in terms of which the music is worked out, more distinctly than is usually the case. 'They are aspects of reality, or the objective forces which come into play and which are, largely, the theme of the symphony! they are not simply instruments through which the composer expresses himself, or for which he scores certain musical ideas. They are as characters which, obeying their own laws, form the drama, and which, related to a particular setting, carry a clear-cut symbolical content. It is this consistent relationship, this symbolisation of the medium in which the music is conceived, that is behind the concentrated logic of form and the singular effectiveness of Sibelius’ music. One can speak of three main colour-blocks, each of which can be further differentiated according to the qualities of each instrument (e.g. flute, oboe or clarinet), or they way they are used (e.g. strings tremolo, pizzicato or in block harmonies), the strings are often the medium or the concrete background; thus they can be the sea, the waters, in an oceanic setting, or the forests in another context (Tapiola, fifth Symphony). Thinking in terms of the fundamental four elements, this would include both water and earth or either. The woodwind then will be air, or pneuma, wind. In a sense, impetus, and motives coming from above, a higher medium, perhaps the spirit breathing upon the waters. The brass will have to be fire, or the entry of cosmic and archetypal forms: thus Ihor, or Jupiter, in the Fifth Symphony, or Tapio, the forest-god.

At the present day music is classified into "programme music" and "absolute music", but noone has ever given a clear definition of these terms. A "programme" might properly refer to the representation of a sequence of events, but not to a tone-poem, nor to the existence of any kind of symbolism, suggestion or association, for in that case all music must be "programme music"; while "absolute music" is what Korzybski calls a "spell-noise" - i.e. a meaningless sound that can be spelled out.2 In Sibelius the association of a particular setting with each symphony is, I would say, essential to its full understanding and to an appreciation of all its implications. The symphonic view is a world view, an Over-all view, in terms of universals; but it is arrived at, or expressed, through certain kinds of experience, or through a view of nature, or in terms of life on earth ("I always have a picture in mind" - Beethoven.) In the case of Sibelius symphonies in general, they do suggest very strongly and consistently certain settings or backgrounds, and if this is not appreciated or admitted they cannot be understood. It is comparable to viewing a reproduction of an impressionist painting in black and white, only not simply the colour but the aliveness and vitality are lost. It makes no difference whether the composer was consciously aware of or intended, or would confirm, the particular associations suggested - they could as well, or even better, arise from the unconscious, and almost certainly do in many cases. One does not consciously create one's dream symbolism; and art is, in a sense, a dream, but arises from a reality superior to the conscious one. In any case the terms or ideas used to interpret or suggest the symbolism are to make one more conscious of the effect, the inter- relationships of the parts, and the over-all form and ultimate meaning. Once they have thrown light on a relationship they may be discarded, or others substituted, and the fact that music is a symbolical effect precludes any absolute interpretation and allows only a relative one. In the logic of correspondences the emphasis is not on particular manifestations but on meaning, to which all particulars relate, and the perception of meaning is not a rational process but belongs to the function of intuition. With this in mind, the third Symphony of Sibelius can be referred to the symbolic associations of the ocean, as its setting and it and the Seventh are the two oceanic symphonies. The orchestration, the themes and the Hood suggest an oceanic symbolism. One can carry the symbolism further and point out that in general, in psychological terms, water or the ocean symbolises the unconscious; that we are coming to the end of the Piscean Age, that of the Christian Era and Western Civilisation. The astrological sign Pisces is intimately connected with the symbolism of Christianity, and it represents the ocean, as well as the two fishes. The scale of G major became the dominant mode or tonality of Western Culture, and there are good reasons for associating it with the sign Pisces.3 If is therefore not accidental that Sibelius' two oceanic symphonies are in C major, as that the Seventh begins with the ascending scale of C.

The third Symphony can be understood as a seascape. The strings become the material element in this setting, and here, as in the Fifth Symphony, form the background or medium on which play the motives and forces of action, they are the ocean, in which is the potential of energy and development, from the depths of the 'cellos and basses up to the surface in the violins; or they are the material of life, and are influenced by the motives in the woodwind, in the air or space above. These woodwind motives are persistent impulses, often giving the essential note of a whole movement, and sometimes recurring in different movements, like ever present urges. The main themes themselves become motives rather than melodies, consisting, in the Third Symphony, of successions of metamorphoses of a single figure. The theme is transformed as it is expressed in different aspects or in terms of different instruments, and the musical logic is such that the whole form evolves from it, so that each movement, and even the whole work, tends to be monothematic, in the sense that all the thematic material can be felt as an evolution or development from the original motive, although Sibelius never repeats himself. Formally the first movement conforms to the sonata pattern, while at the same time representing the principles of the quite different outlook and method of the later symphonies. This may be with reference to the past and the tonality of C major, or the diatoni scale, associated so closely with the Sonata period. It does not reappear until the other C major symphony, the Seventh, which, in a certain sense, can be regarded as a vast sonata form embracing the whole symphony, and including its quasi separate movements within its continuous whole. As a whole the Third parallels the Fifth in design, though the first movement of the latter does not make any allusion to sonata form. In both, the middle or slower movement consists of variations of one theme or rhythm of a similar type and structure. In the third, the theme itself remains unchanged, but it is transformed through the accompanying orchestral counterpoint, or the development of the background. The form amounts to instrumental or orchestral variations. The finales of both lead up to a climactic peroration on a characteristic theme, which is also the climax and goal of the whole symphony. The theme in each case seems to grow out of the background which is represented by the rest of the material, and it is the only clearly defined theme in the movement. The finale of the second Symphony also anticipates this feature, and although it does have another strong theme, its second theme comes to dominate in the end, and is closely akin to those in the Third and Fifth. In the third, this theme of the en ding is a consummation of, and exactly balances, the opening theme of the Symphony, each consisting of a short rhythmic phrase repeated thirteen times in varied form, in a characteristically Sibelian sequence.

Finally, the world-view represented by this music is more in keeping with a higher and future level of consciousness, towards which we may be moving, than that of any other twentieth century composer. It is consistent with the way in which higher thinking is developing at present on the frontiers of virtually every discipline and science, and with the new kind of knowledge coming into us. The third Symphony of Sibelius may be summed up in these lines of Rimbaud, suggested by the "Coda" of the first movement:

"Elle eat retrouvé!
Quoi ? l'Éternité.
C'est la mer melee
Au soleil."

First Movement: Allegro moderate.

The symphony opens with a primary theme in the 'cellos only, which consists of a figure repeated, in varied shapes, thirteen times. It suggests a potential, a feeling of latent development, with the orchestration in the depths of the medium, and darkness. It is followed by two versions; the first a translation into expansive energy, rising to the surface in the violins, and the second a motive of air and light in the woodwind, of dawning and new life. These seem to be active principles, and result in a third version, in the strings, a semi- quaver figure which suggests development and movement over the whole surface. It is followed by a tutti, in which there is an anticipation of the second subject in the horns, an expansion into the whole sphere of action. Here, with the end of the first subject, the subject matter of the movement has been presented, the active elements, with the resultant figure of active development in the strings, on the surface of the medium, which is to be the predominant idea in the first movement. We have risen from darkness to the light, or from the depths to the surface and the air above.

The second subject is a minor and extenuated aspect of the first theme, again in the 'cellos. It is an extension in space, and conveys not only a feeling of width but of lyrical melancholy, for the feeling of surrounding emptiness emphasises the separateness and isolation of the individual, versus the indifferent universe, and brings a consciousness of the past, of fate and death. Space is in a sense the past, or static extension, what has become, contrasted with becoming (time) 4 . Hence the lyrical, melodic is the feeling element in music and is the subjective or individual dimension. This theme is succeeded by the figure of the string development, at different levels through the medium, and becomes a motive above this in the woodwind, at its most fatalistic as a bassoon solo. The exposition ends with a codetta in which the theme is extenuated still further, as though into the line of the horizon, where there is rest and complete calm. In this emptiness, over a barely perceptible movement in the basses (ppp), part of the woodwind motive of the first subject occurs, now as a flute motive, and as though the motive that leads to the development, the only thing present in the extreme stillness of the extension.

The whole field of action has now been presented as well as the active elements, and the "development" or central section consists of the action in this sphere. It is therefore the principal part of the movement rather than what is understood by the idea of a "free fantasia" in the accepted idea of sonata form. It is the logical centre and contains the main idea - that of continual metamorphosis and movement. The idea is in fact development, quite literally, and in its most generalised sense. It is in three sections and the figure of development in the strings is the central theme running through it. In the first section this is in the first violins, while there is a constant reminder of the potential underlying it in the incomplete first figure of the primary theme, occurring intermittently in the 'cellos; the woodwind motive occurs twice. Both these are source of the development, which thus results from the interaction of the inner, latent energy and the external impulse. In the second section the development figure is in the violas alone, with the effect of space and emptiness and set in relation to the second subject, the theme of extension. This enters as an element of fate, in varying form and key, and in different aspects, as it appears in solo bassoon, clarinet and oboe successively. The three reed instruments have the same fatalistic quality, with different colouring, becoming more poignant and urgent until in the third section this theme is reduced to a motive based on its first phrase, like a fatal impulse extending to the whole, and leading to a climax of action. While the first violins reenter with the development figure) the motive is worked up alternately by flute and oboe, dovetailing and rising a degree each time, until at the climax it emerges as identical with the primary theme which returns in tutti with the beginning of the recapitulation.

If this theme originally suggested a potential, it is now expressed in terms of the energy of the whole* It is no longer latent but apparent, and has expanded into the dimensions of the whole orchestra. It is the summary and concentration of the metamorphosis of the development section which, driven by the urgency of the inevitable, returns to this theme now on a symphonic scale. The theme is the energy of action, but it is still potential, and the movement, though musically complete, is ideologically incomplete without the succeeding movements. It is a realisation in so far as an expansion of this theme into the whole seascape, an attainment of light, having begun in darkness as an underlying possibility. The effect of realisation is increased by the rounding off of the them in the recapitulation for the first time, and this, together with the gradular emergence of the theme in the development section, makes this first movement more closely related to the form of the last movement than to sonata form. The exposition is not a complete statement, but only a suggestion, an introduction of the elements involved, a setting of the scene; the development is a development not out of but into the theme, is not an analysis but a growth; and the recapitulation is the full realisation of the theme for the first time, risen up from the depths, and is not really a repetition but the climax. It is evident that the subject is instrumental more than melodic, and is the development of the upper strings until, at the climax, the theme is stated in them.

The second subject in the recapitulation is also in the violins and, besides being in E minor instead of B minor, has a different curve and is transformed in mood from one of restlessness to one of reconciliation. It is no longer questioning, a problem of space, but accepted as an actual extension, and is the very theme which has led up to this establishment of the upper strings. Such subtle thematic transformations are typical of Sibelius' method, and the effect of fulfillment is heightened by the transference of the accompanying rhythm to full woodwind, as if space were no longer empty but filled overhead. The following section concludes, again unlike the exposition, with a play of the woodwind motive, now in light and freedom. The coda is a new version of the codetta theme for horns and woodwind, with a quite different significance, suggesting instead of limitless extension the complete establishment of light over the whole (see the verse from Rimbaud). Intermittent with this is a recurrence of the active development motive in the strings as it originally appeared in the first subject. It gives an inconclusive end; the theme is ceaseless movement, the emergence from darkness into light, and it ends with the assertion of light and the motive of action, themes suggesting a dawning of possibilities not yet realized.
Second Movement; Andante con moto, quasi allegretto*

The form of this movement has already been alluded to as orchestral variation, there are four variations not of the melody but of the orchestration and accompaniment. It is a movement concerned mainly therefore with the background or the setting, and as we should expect it is here that the oceanic symbolism is developed in most detail. The mood is lyrical; that is, it is one of static extension. This is emphasised by the structure, which consists throughout of balanced four-part repetitions. The theme is a rhythmic phrase repeated four times, melodically varied in the second and fourth repetitions to secure a slow rhythmic rise and fall, and for articulation, to form a theme as a whole;- the characteristic structure, similar to that of the other themes in the Symphony. This theme is itself repeated four times in each of the four variations. The only motion is the slow to-and-fro movement, or rise and fall, contained in the melody, and in the 6/4 rhythm, a movement of waters, while the counterpoint or accompaniment to this irresistibly suggests the ocean. In the first variation the theme is in flutes and clarinets, with a very calm and distant effect in space, and the counterpoint is a lulling, rocking wave-figure in the violas, on the surface, and a pizzicato in the bass, the underlying depths. After the first statement of the theme there is a passing appearance in the clarinets of a motive which is to persist through the movement, in the same way as the flute motive does in the first movement. It is in strong contrast to the restful rhythm of the theme, an is like an insistent searching, an impulse against the static extension of the setting. It is the countermotive, which gives point to the whole movement.

In the second variation the theme is in the first violins, transferred as it were to another plane, in the extension of the surface itself. The orchestra counterpoint is increased; the wave-figure is in the violas and second violins, and has more movement, while the woodwind and horns have a figure from the end of the theme, a note of endlessness and unchangeability, the countermotive occurs again in the same place, this time in flutes and oboes.

Between this and the next variation there is the first of two episodes. It begins with a slow passage in divided 'cellos, of great calm, and extending to tike horizon as a background. In the darkness and emptiness prepared by this comes the countermotive in full woodwind, and in greater length. All the emphasis is here put on this searching motive, which leads into a figure in 4/4 time in complete rhythmic contrast to the theme, bringing the whole course of the movement to a temporary halt. After this the 'cello passage occurs again, and two marcato notes on the horns lead into the third variation.
It may be that this episode has "no structural significance" but, far from being no more than a relief between the variations, it has every significance of emotion and idea. The bass, going down to the depths of the ocean, forms a dark contrast with the woodwind motive* "The horn marcato, which continues through the next variation, seems to be a note of foreboding, and a movement starts in the body of the ocean, a pizzicato up and down in depth instead of horizontally on the surface. In strong contrast to this rhythmic energy the theme is again in flutes and clarinets, from afar, and then in flutes and oboes, with the added poignancy of these instruments. In the fourth repetition added expectancy is created by the omission of the theme, leaving the pizzicato accompaniment only, which increases in tempo and leads into the second episode. An impulsive woodwind figure in rapid semi-quavers resembles the flute motive of the first movement, as though in answer and opposition to the nostalgic searching motive of the previous episode. There is in it a wild note of insistent necessity, leading to the fourth variation.

The theme is again in the violins, with the counterpoint now in the vertical aspect, as in the preceding variation. The pizzicato is this time a great swell, rising and falling, combined with the horizontal wave-motion of the theme, an almost waltz-like lilting rhythm against the mass of the underlying swell. This is the climax, the movement and energy of the whole, with full-bodied harmonies. In the succeeding coda the movement concludes on the essential note prevailing through it, the woodwind countermotive, with its last phrase left expectantly in mid-air, looking to the possibilities remaining to be realized.

Third Movement: Allegro ma non tanto.

The third movement, entirely original in form, contains the fulfillment which seems to be awaited in the note of questioning and incompleteness on which the other two movements end. It is in two parts, the first of which is the growth of the theme against a general stirring up of the whole background, and the second is the Symphonic Theme itself, the climax of all three movements.

The first part is mainly a development of the background out of which the theme gradually emerges, a generation of movement and energy under the influence of motives in the woodwind. The first section of it consists of two germ phrases, the first in the oboe, and an answering phrase in the clarinet which ends in two emphatic notes. These phrases are like active impulses. The first, slightly reminiscent of the counter-motive in the andante, but become active, is followed by a ripple of movement in the violas, which also ends in two emphatic notes giving a feeling of suspense and dynamic possibilities. The second phrase in the clarinet is like an active impulse, a gust foreshadowed by the first. As though these were the beginnings of a little breeze, they are followed by a stir of movement in the medium or background, a semi-quaver spiccato figure in the violins; this is related and contrasted with the former condition of rest in an allusion in the woodwind to the theme of the second movement, by which the feeling of expectant stir in the whole is enhanced. The first section is one of anticipation generally.

In the second the two germ phrases are combined in a flute motive, a realisation of the active impulse, as though the arrival of a breeze. This is, in a sense, the theme of the first part of the movement, heralding what is to come, and leading to a figure of development of energy in the strings, which is followed by the first string figure again, like a play of movement over the whole surface. The two emphatic notes grow, as two crotchets in the woodwind against the three quavers of 6/8 time, and become prominent as two sforzandi in the second violins, separated by the length of a bar.
In the third section in the combination of these two figures a phrase em erges in the horns in which the symphonic theme is clearly discernible, over the second string figure, a generation of power in the medium. The entry of the horns introduces a new quality in combination with the theme, and has the effect of transcending or penetrating through all that is already there, of an element from a different plane. The whole works up to a crescendo and climax in which the heavy brass enters, the trombones with the two rhythmic emphases, in anticipation of the dramatic elements.
Under the influence of this, the fourth section consists of confused movement in all directions, an interplay of the two string figures and movement throughmany keys, a generation of energy in the whole background, until it merges into and is dominated by the theme. This is established in the violas, while the other movement gradually subsudes, everything being concentrated and summed up in this motive that transcends the whole.

The second part of the movement is an orchestral build-up on the theme. It is first stated fully in the 'cellos, leading into the violins (as in the first movement), and is made up of thirteen varied repetitions of a rhythmic phrase, the two parts of which are the equivalents of the two germs that have been growing throughout the earlier half. Its structure therefore is exactly the same as that of the first theme of the Symphony. It seems to be a realisation of the potential expressed in this, a transformation, like all the material in the work. It completely pervades the whole, and is the outcome of all the former motives and forces, to which direction is now given. It is built up as a symphonic assertion, bracing the whole orchestra, to the final climax of the brass tutti, where it is expressed in terms of dramatic forces. Over this the woodwind has a new sustaining figure, looking into the future.

The third movement then contains the main theme of the Symphony, the final climax to which the rest has been leading. It is not, as in the typical "classical" symphony, added on to the end of a work which has its main emphasis in the first movement; but the whole is an integrated organic growth and development. The themes within each movement arise from one another, or from one germ, and there is a thematic relationship through the movements. The sonata form was never classical in a spiritual sense, the classical period having ended with Bach. Sibelius seems to return through this form to a new classical spirit, which finds its own form in his later works.

The three movements may be imagined as the presentation of the subject matter the theme of action; the contemplation of this at rest and the searching for a direction and meaning, the lyrical and reflective aspect; and the realisation of the Symphonic Theme, giving direction into the future. Or, most generally, as present, past and future, the three phases of art. The expression of the Syphony as a whole may best be estimated by comparison with those most closely related to it, the Second and fifth. The most important feature that they have in common is in the final movements. In all three the movement is dominated by one theme, and in each it is the same kind of theme, a persistent and pervading motive. In the Second Symphony this motive is still a second subject, though it finishes by overshadowing all else and the final orchestral climax is built up on it. In the third Symphony the form of the movement is based on the growl of one theme, which is now no longer a premonition of something but an assertion. It seems to be an assertion of a motive that, in the preceding symphony, has been called up from the past, and which here is justified and leads to a new heroic motive, ie the spring of a symphonic current flowing into the future. Here it is objectified or extraverted, is very much part of the present scene and the ocean. In the fifth Symphony the last movement is similar in construction, but the theme is stronger and seems to have entered into another dimension the realm of the archetypes or pure forms. As such it belongs to the future, or to all time.

Footnotes:
1) Quoted from the Talmud by Peter Baumann, in his notes to Qunther Wand's recording of Bruckner's Fifth Symphony.
2) Alfred Korssybski, "Science and Sanity" - Institute of General Semantics, 1933
3) of a Tone Zodiac proposed by me in the Astrological Journal, Spring 1984.
4) Kant, in the Prologue to the Critique* See also the citation from Spengler in my "Critique of Pure Music", M.R. Vol.45 N0. 1