Today’s three protagonists allow us to glimpse the romantic movement development throughout the 19th century: Beethoven’s aesthetic and orchestral foundations, Brahms’s flamboyance and solidity, and the inspiration out of the traditional musical roots that mark Sibelius’s nationalism.

It is well known how Brahms feared the symphonic genre, which he considered to have reached its peak with Beethoven’s figure. Johannes Brahms’ (1833 – 1897) bonhomie was one of his defining traits. However, behind his figure as a composer rooted in tradition and impeccable formal structures is one of the musical creators with the most romantic and passionate heart about the entire mid-19th century.

In 1883, Antonin Dvorak visited Brahms in Vienna, who played this symphony’s opening and last movements for him. Dvorak clearly noticed the melodic motifs’ great beauty in Symphony No. 3, and his great friend Clara Schumann also grasped the formal condensation of each of the four beats. One element that stands out in this symphony is its significant density, cohesion, and variable rhythm, which moves across binary and ternary accents. An oscillating harmony between the major and minor modes should be added—a hallmark that allows Brahms to capture all the emotional tonalities.

The third of his symphonies can be defined as a flood of emotions that often displace those of the audience. Over the first half, the different topics tumultuously blast through. Brahms masterfully uses the woodwind to mark intersections that soothe the strings’ voices, which then rise in energetic and passionate waves that fluctuate amidst great rhythmic richness. At the same time, the motifs are lightly strung, cut short by the small pauses from the wind instruments setting the topic’s development. The second movement is headed by a calm start, the melodic ideas gradually developing between brief, calm passages to retake a more graceful nature. It is difficult to define the third movement of unique finesse. The soul of the purest romanticism dwells within this orchestral writing gem; there are no cracks in a music piece that captures fleeting beauty.

The opening movement’s energy returns in the fourth. Brahms uses motifs from previous sections, such as the second movement’s first theme – a trait that holds the work together and brings it closer to a symphonic poem’s design, with a programmatic idea behind it.

The Violin Concerto in D minor by Jean Sibelius was redone after the first première (1904) did not go as planned… Sibelius prefers a violin’s sustained prominence instead, so it is better to brace for a concert of significant technical difficulty. Right from the start, the soloist emerges with an almost unreal voice that soon stirs up a nearly silent orchestra, maintaining this tireless dialogue between soloist and orchestra throughout the three movements. Sibelius combines it with small groups of instruments that draw on a unique character far from a simple accompaniment, which brings it closer to the symphonic genre. The unreal world flair appears again in the last movement, with false harmonics by the soloist that deepen an otherworldly atmosphere. However, the concert holds a rare quality: a sharp contrast between passages beaming great beauty and an often dark and gloomy sonority.

Beethoven didn’t seem to care for jokes, but when the overture Leonora is scheduled, one wants to ask him: «Which of them all?» Beethoven did not have much luck with his opera Fidelio—it was poorly received, so he revisited his work, particularly the opening. Finally, the most frequently performed of the four versions is this evening’s Leonora No. 3.

While keeping the sonata form’s standard structure, Beethoven gradually adapted opera’s musical pieces: a slow introduction ends up interrupted by clarinets and bassoons that recall the aria sung by Florestan in prison. The violins contravene an arch-shaped piece that will give way to the supplementary piece, lyrically introduced by flutes and violins. After a highly dynamic section, a distant trumpet announces Florestan and Leonora’s release. Here, Maestro Beethoven lets himself be carried away by unleashing.

Four tries, indeed. But Leonora No. 3 is worth it.