Invitation to the Dance

The relevance of a piano rondo written by a German composer in Dresden in 1819, when Johann Strauss I was still in his mid-teens, might not be immediately obvious. Weber’s Invitation to the Dance was, however, one of the first examples of the structured waltz, the ordered and integrated sequence of waltz tunes later adopted and so successfully developed by the Strauss family. The joy of domestic pianists all over Europe, it was certainly known in Vienna long before Hector Berlioz - another Strauss admirer, incidentally - multiplied its popularity by making an orchestral version of it in 1841.

Having made his arrangement, for a ballet in a production of Weber’s Der Freischütz at the Paris Opéra, Berlioz took pride in the fact that “not a note has been changed” - although, to make it easier for the orchestra, he did transpose it from D flat to D major. He might also have claimed that the gentleman’s invitation to the lady in the introduction is more eloquent on solo cello than on piano and that her woodwind replies, turning him down and first and then accepting him, are more charmingly modest. As for the waltzes themselves, Berlioz applied a remarkably variety of colour, but never for its own sake. Where Weber makes a literal repetition, as of the recurrent first theme in D major, Berlioz does the same. When the second waltz wanders into the wrong harmonies, Berlioz heightens the effect with the utmost discretion. The return to D major at the brilliant end to the dance is not quite the end of the piece: the cello gentleman thanks the woodwind lady with a nice appreciation of musical as well as social form.

The relevence of a piano rondo written by a German composer in Dresden in 1819, when Johann Strauss I was still in his mid-teens, might not be immediately obvious. Weber’s Invitation to the Dance was, however, one of the first examples of the structured waltz, the ordered and integrated sequence of waltz tunes later adopted and so successfully developed by the Strauss family. The joy of domestic pianists all over Europe, it was certainly known in Vienna long before Hector Berlioz - another Strauss admirer, incidentally - multiplied its popularity by making an orchestral version of it in 1841. The Berlioz arrangement was written for a production of Weber’s Der Freischütz at the Paris Opéra, where ballet in opera was de rigeur: operas without ballet music had to be supplied with it in some way.

Decliningt the Opéra director’s flattering request for ballet pieces of his own, Berlioz insisted that any additional music must be by Weber and took pride in the fact that in his orchestration of Invitation to the Dance “not a note has been changed” - although, to make it easier for the orchestra, he did transpose it from D flat to D major. He might also have claimed that the gentleman’s invitation to the lady is all the more eloquent on solo cello than on piano and that her woodwind replies, turning him down and first and then acceptng him, are all the more charmingly modest. As for the waltzes themselves, Berlioz applied a remarkably variety of colour, but never for its own sake. Where Weber makes a literal repetition, as of the recurrent first theme in D major, Berlioz does the same. When the second waltz wanders into the wrong harmonies, Berlioz heightens the effect with the utmost discretion. The return to D major at the brilliant end to the dance is not quite the end of the piece: the cello gentleman thanks the woodwind lady with a nice appreciation of musical as well as social form.

orch Berlioz (1803-1869)

It is one of the ironies of music arrangement that a work can become more popular in a new by version by someone else than in the composer’s own original version. Weber’s Invitation to the Dance must have been the joy of countless nineteenth-century domestic pianists, but (in spite of the present renewal of interestin Weber’s piano music) it is far more familiar to us today in Berlioz’s orchestration. Written in 1819, the piano piece was one of the first of its kind, the waltz sequence so successfully adopted by the Strauss family later in the century. Berlioz made the orchestral version in 1841 for a production of Weber’s Der Freischütz at the Paris Opera, where ballet in opera was de rigeur: operas without ballet music had to be supplied with it in some way. In fact, as well as compiling the ballet music, Berlioz replaced the spoken dialogue of Weber’s opera with recitative, which was another necessary provision for the Paris audience.

However drastic Berlioz’s treatment of the opera might seem, he did have the greatest affection and admiration for Weber’s music, and he took pride in the fact that in his orchestration of Invitation to the Dance “not a note has been changed.” He might have claimed with equal justice that the gentleman’s invitation to the lady is all the more eloquent on solo cello and that her woodwind replies are all the more charmingly modest. As for the waltzes themselves, Berlioz applied a remarkably variety of colour, but never for its own sake. Where Weber makes a literal repetition, as of the recurrent first them in D major, Berlioz does the same, and he retains a similar sort of sound for the later and quite more predictable variant of the that theme in F sharp minor. When the second waltz (also originally in D major) reappears later in the teasingly remote key of D flat, Berlioz heightens the effect with the utmost discretion. The return to D major at the brilliant end to the dance is not quite the end of the piece: the gentleman thanks the woodwind lady with a nice appreciation of musical as well as social form.