Sinfonia domestica Op.53

Richard Strauss (1864–1949)

Sinfonia domestica Op.53

“Home Sweet Home as written by Richard Strauss – Papa and Momma and Baby Celebrated in Huge Conglomeration of Orchestral Music.”

The New York newspapers the day after Strauss conducted the first performance of his Symphonia domestica in Carnegie Hall in March 1904 were understandably incredulous. Indeed, it was remarkable that a composer who had devoted a mere tone poem to a universal theme like Death and Transfiguration was inspired to write nothing less than a symphony on his family life – which, though happily shared with his wife Pauline and their six-year-old son Franz (affectionately known as Bubi), was in no way out of the ordinary. It is still more remarkable that his creativity was so spontaneous and his technique so over­whelmingly masterful that he not only got away with it but actually produced a masterpiece of sorts.

The symphonic element really does extend beyond the title. Three years before Schoenberg accomplished much the same thing in his Chamber Symphony, Op.9, Strauss set out to combine the four sections of the conventional symphony with the three-part function of conventional sonata form, structuring the whole thing in one continuous movement. So, after an opening section which exposes three main groups of themes, there are scherzo and slow-movement sections representing the development, and a finale which is also a recapitulation.

The three groups of themes, not unnaturally in the domestic circum­stances, are devoted to Richard, Pauline and Bubi respectively. The composer himself is represented in five different moods in quick succession – in good humour on cellos, dreamy on the oboe, grumbly on clarinets, passionate in a longer phrase on first and second violins, cheerful in a little trumpet call. Pauline’s first theme (in a non-feminist inversion of her husband’s first theme) represents her in petulant mood on first violins and flutes. She is more thoughtful on lower strings and woodwind, sentimental on solo violin. Bubi’s theme is in two violently contrasted parts – angelically asleep on oboe d’amore, noisily awake in shrill woodwind trills and muted trumpet squeals – each one provoking the appropriate reaction from his parents. “Just like Papa,” say his aunts on muted trumpet on a rising reflection; “Just like Mama,” reply his uncles on muted horns and trombone with an inversion of the same motif.

Bubi is the chief protagonist of the scherzo section. The main theme here is a playful variant introduced by the oboe d’amore again. His parents join in the game, the climax of which is the angelic theme in both versions at the same time. Though interrupted by a short rest, it leads eventually into the bath, with predictably vociferous results. After that it is time for bed and a lullaby (based on one of Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words), which sleepily fades away just as the glockenspiel strikes seven.

The transition from here to the Adagio – sketched in at first on oboe and clarinets rather than fully elaborated as the composer registers his emotions on beholding his sleeping child – is one of the most beautiful passages in the whole work. A little snatch of folksong indicates the harmony that exists between husband and wife at this stage before he goes off to his study.

The slow movement itself is in two parts, the artist at work and the artist in bed. To judge by the hard work involved in the one and the inspiration in the other, he is more creative in the latter case. Indeed, the matrimonial love scene, beginning and ending with tender little folksong fragments and rising to extraordinary heights of passion in the middle, aroused much moral disapproval a hundred years ago – which was quite an achievement for a piece of purely orchestral music. Today we can be more indulgent about it, particularly in view of the ensuing dream sequence, which we can now recognise as surrealism long before its time.

The glockenspiel strikes seven again, signalling both a new day and the beginning of the finale. Bubi in an aggressively active version of his angelic theme, bursts into life and becomes the first subject of a double fugue, beginning on bassoons and then involving bass clarinets, oboes, trumpet, and horns. The second subject of the fugue is an irate variant of Pauline’s first theme, introduced by violins. A family row develops, achieving a peak of intolerable ferocity. But the whole point of a row is the reconciliation, which in the Strauss family’s case is another very simple and quiet folksong, scored this time for wind band.

From this point on, it is all recapitulation and celebration, sustained longer than one would consider possible and so frenzied at times that some instruments, not least timpani and horns, get carried away in extraordinary feats of Bubi-inspired virtuosity. When the end does come, however, it is the father who has the massively augmented last word.

Gerald Larner©2008