A Little Night Music Program Notes

Peoria Symphony Orchestra Program Notes

March 27, 2026 – A Little Night Music

J. Michael Allsen

This Peoria Symphony Orchestra program opens with Mozart’s delightful serenade Eine kleine Nachtmusik, a four-movement string serenade. We then turn to Haydn’s “Surprise” Symphony, which has three movements of wonderful music beyond the famous surprise in the Andante. We close with the most joyful of Beethoven’s symphonies, the glorious seventh.

 

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)

Serenade No. 13 in G Major, K. 375 – Eine kleine Nachtmusik

Mozart completed this work in Vienna on August 10, 1787. Duration 17:00.

 

Background

Travelers’ descriptions of late-18th-century Austria often remarked on one of the most beloved Austrian musical traditions, the street serenade. These works, variously titled Serenade, Cassation, Notturno, or Nachtmusik, were typically played by small ensembles hired to play for a lover, a friend, or a special event: engagements, weddings, or “name-days.” (Your name-day in Catholic Austria is the feast day of your saintly namesake.) Mozart wrote dozens of these pieces, ranging from simple marches to more substantial pieces like the famous Eine kleine Nachtmusik (“A Little Night Music”) heard here. Most of Mozart’s serenades were written for a specific commission, or in a few cases, as gifts for his own friends—but the reason he wrote this work remains a mystery. He was busily engaged with the opera Don Giovanni at the time, and must have had a reason to interrupt his work for the time it took to write the serenade (though probably just for a few days, given Mozart’s typically furious speed of composition). It is not known whether the piece was ever performed during Mozart’s lifetime, or indeed if it was played before it was finally published in 1829. A final mystery concerns the work’s missing Menuet. Mozart kept a fairly meticulous running list of his own compositions, and his entry for August 10, 1787 lists “Eine kleine Nacht Musik, consisting of an Allegro, Menuet and Trio, Romanze, Menuet and Trio, and Finale.” However, at some point, someone removed the first Menuet and Trio from the manuscript. (A few modern performances include a movement reconstructed from one possible candidate for the missing Menuet suggested by Mozart’s biographer Alfred Einstein, but this is not generally accepted as authentic, and nearly all performances today are in four movements.) What is left, however, is a jewel of a work: essentially a little symphony for strings. All these mysteries aside, Mozart’s final serenade—and his only one for strings alone—is today one of his most enduringly popular works.

 

What You’ll Hear

The opening Allegro is set in sonata form and has two main sets of ideas: the first a bold fanfare-like figure and the second a more lilting idea with a chirpy conclusion. After treating these themes in a miniature development that begins abruptly in the minor and contains several surprising harmonic twists, the movement ends with a recapitulation and a brisk coda. The Romanza that follows is one of Mozart’s typically lovely slow movements, laying out a pair of gentle and relaxed main themes. These alternate with a pair of contrasting episodes, one dancelike and the other slightly agitated. The main theme of the Menuet is more folksy than usual for this courtly dance, with some similarities to the popular “German Dance” that was all the rage in Vienna’s dance halls in the 1780s. The central trio also sounds like peasant fiddling. Mozart rounds out Eine kleine Nachtmusik with a brisk rondo-form finale (Allegro). The main theme is an energetic idea heard at the beginning. In the course of the movement, he presents contrasting music, but always finds witty ways to work back to this main idea.

 

Franz Josef Haydn (1732-1809)

Symphony No. 94 in G Major (Surprise)

Haydn composed this work in 1791, and the first performance took place in London on March 23, 1792. Duration 23:00.

 

Background

When his longtime patron Prince Nicolaus Esterházy died in 1790, Haydn was presented with almost total freedom to compose and travel. Johann Peter Salomon, a London impresario, wasted no time in engaging Haydn for his spring concert series. After some initial hesitation—which was overcome by Salomon’s promise of 1200 pounds—Haydn agreed to come to England. His first English tour in 1791-92 was wildly successful: Salomon’s receipts were tremendous, and the concert series was helped by friendly competition from a rival London series of concerts by Haydn’s former student Ignaz Pleyel. Haydn subsequently contracted with Salomon for a second trip to London in 1794-95. Under the terms of his contract, Haydn composed twelve symphonies for Salomon’s concerts during his two visits: nos. 93-98 during his first visit, and nos. 99-104 during his second.

 

Of course, the Symphony No.94 is most famous for the “surprise” that appears in the second movement. The tale is well-known: Haydn, frustrated by well-fed aristocratic patrons who dozed off during after-supper concerts, inserted a loud Paukenschlag (drum-stroke) during an otherwise quiet movement to jolt them awake.  It’s a good story, and there might just be a grain of truth to it—Haydn himself apparently circulated a rumor in London that the Paukenschlag was intended to “make the ladies scream.” However, it is more likely that this was simply introduced as a humorous novelty for his London audiences. Years later, when one of his early biographers asked him about the “surprise,” Haydn denied that he had had ladies or sleepy patrons in mind, and said “…it was my wish to surprise the public with something new, and to make a debut in a brilliant manner, in order not to be outdone by my pupil Pleyel…the first Allegro of my Symphony was received with countless bravos, but the enthusiasm reached its highest point in the Andante with the kettledrum stroke. Ancora, ancora! sounded from every throat, and even Pleyel complimented me on my idea.” This is borne out by contemporary reactions, which also included some fairly imaginative explanations for the drum-stroke—one London reviewer of the first performance wrote that the Andante was “…equal to the happiest of this great Master’s conceptions. The surprise might not unaptly be likened to the situation of a beautiful shepherdess, who, lulled to slumber by the murmur of a distant waterfall, starts alarmed by the unexpected firing of a fowling-piece.”

 

What You’ll Hear

True to form for most of Haydn’s late symphonies, the Symphony No.94 begins with a slow introduction—in this case a relatively brief passage (Adagio) with lovely solo lines and a brief turn towards the minor at the end. The body of the movement (Vivace assai) is in sonata form, and is set in 6/8. One interesting feature of the jaunty main theme is that it begins on an upbeat—a subtle effect, but one that gives a bit of rhythmic instability to the music that seems to be resolved only in the final bars. There is a slightly more subdued second idea, but most of the movement is dominated by the main theme, which is developed in many ingenious ways, particularly in elaborate counterpoint.

 

The famous Andante is a theme and variations. The theme is simplicity itself—and apparently a favorite of Haydn’s, as he recycled it a few years later in his oratorio The Seasons. The “surprise” comes at the end of the first phrase and again at the beginning in the first variation. The movement concludes with a series of highly diverse variations and a brief mock-serious coda. 

 

Though Haydn maintained (or rather established) the 18th-century tradition of using a Menuet as the third movement, his Menuets are seldom effete, powdered-wig affairs. The third movement of this symphony is a typically good-natured country-band Haydn Menuet, just a bit too fast and heavy-footed for courtly dancing. 

 

The finale (Allegro molto) is a lighthearted movement whose main theme has the same sort of deliberate rhythmic quirkiness heard in the opening movement. The second theme is gentler, but no less offbeat. The movement combines sonata form with the lighter Rondo—a minimum of serious development and a maximum of good tunes. The coda begins with a sudden loud drum-roll—another surprise?—and ends with a decidedly tongue-in-cheek gesture from the woodwinds.

 

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)

Symphony No.7 in A Major, Op. 92

Beethoven’s seventh symphony was completed in 1812, and performed for the first time on December 8, 1813. Duration 38:00.

 

“I am Bacchus incarnate, to give humanity wine to drown its sorrow… one who divines the secret of my music is delivered from the misery that haunts the world.” – Beethoven

 

Background

Beethoven’s seventh and eight symphonies, which were composed at roughly the same time during 1811-1812, are among the last products of what is come to be known as his “heroic decade”—the remarkable period of creativity between 1802 and 1812. The sublime optimism and joy of these symphonies are their most “heroic” qualities—these were works written when the composer had become almost entirely deaf, when his ill health and loneliness could have dried up his inspiration. The seventh, which Richard Wagner called “the apotheosis of the dance,” is particularly exuberant, and was one of Beethoven’s own favorite works. 

 

The Symphony No.7 was first performed in December 1813, at a benefit concert for Austrian and Bavarian soldiers wounded at the battle of Hanau. Beethoven also included his hastily-composed “battle symphony” Wellington’s Victory on this program. The Symphony No. 7 was warmly applauded, but Wellington’s Victory was a huge hit with the audience. For his part, Beethoven was disgusted with the public’s rapture over what he considered to be a shoddy piece of work, and more than a little disgusted with himself for writing it. Since then, however, Wellington’s Victory has lapsed into well-deserved obscurity, and the Symphony No. 7 has been recognized for what it truly is, one of Beethoven’s most joyful and subtle works. Despite its lightness of feeling, however, the seventh is the most complex of the symphonies, save the ninth, and displays a confident compositional virtuosity in its form and thematic development.

 

What You’ll Hear

The long introduction to the first movement (Poco sostenuto) is almost a movement unto itself, with two themes exposed and fully developed in the course of its 64 measures. However, at the point we would expect to hear a recapitulation, the texture begins to thin, finally leaving only violins and upper woodwinds to echo one another. The rhythmic fragment that is passed between them blends seamlessly into the beginning of the Vivace. Immediately, there is the distinctive three-note rhythm that will dominate this movement. The opening theme, played by the flute, emerges from this rhythmic figure and is gradually taken up by other sections of the orchestra. There is a brief hold, and a sweeping string figure leads back into a statement of the theme by full orchestra. A second theme is also built from the same rhythmic material. In the extended development section, Beethoven shows his mastery of contrapuntal writing. A grand crescendo and a forceful passage by full orchestra leads to a recapitulation of the opening theme. Even at this point, Beethoven is able to pry further surprises from his thematic material, before bringing the movement to a close with a lengthy coda.

 

The second movement (Allegretto) begins as a solemn theme and variations. The theme is first heard in the low strings, and the timbre becomes brighter as the first three variations proceed: first the second violins are added, then the firsts, and finally, the entire orchestra is added to the mix. After the third variation, Beethoven abandons the theme briefly in favor of a new pastoral melody. The movement then moves on in the manner of a rondo: introducing new material, but always returning to elaborate variations on the original theme.

 

The scherzo is one of Beethoven’s most charming symphonic movements Here he expands the traditional three-part form of symphonic third movements to a five-part structure with elements of sonata form. The opening section is a good-natured scherzo theme (Presto), and the trio contains somewhat slower and sweeter music (Assai meno presto). Following the trio, the scherzo theme is stated again and developed. Another statement of the trio and a return to the scherzo round out the form. As a parting joke, Beethoven begins the trio melody yet again, now in a mournful D minor, but after only four measures, brings the movement to an abrupt end in the original key.

 

One writer has described the finale (Allegro con brio) “a triumph of Bacchic fury.” This movement is filled with good humor and incessant energy. The opening theme is clearly dancelike in nature, recalling some of the pastoral feeling of the sixth symphony. The second theme is softer in nature, with mincing dotted figures in upper woodwinds and strings. As if to counterbalance the massive introduction of the first movement, Beethoven provides the final movement with a huge coda extending for well over 100 measures. This extensive closing section serves almost as a second development, exhausting the possibilities of thematic material.

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program notes ©2025 by J. Michael Allsen