Berlioz "Symphonie Fantastique"

When I mentioned a few posts back that I would write about Symphonie Fantastique at some point, I meant soon. Very soon. Like now. Because I just listened to it again today and it's as fun as I remember. Also, I'm itching to tell the story behind it. But first, a little background on the Romantic period. One needs to understand the emotional context of this century, and though I touched on it in the last post, Romanticism needs more than a "touch."

The Romantic era was not subtle by any means. Actually, "not subtle" is a gross understatement. Said era was catapulted by Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, which was debuted in 1808. People--as in grown adults--would hear this symphony, and leave the theatres fainting, crying, etc. And this was considered normal. Part of me gets that, Beethoven's Fifth is an emotional piece of music. But really? REALLY? Man up. Anyway, for the next 100 years, the vast majority of composers were succumbing to this affected, histrionic sort of atmosphere. To be fair, I'm not saying that all music during this period was like that, but much of it was. It was emotionally charged.

Hector Berlioz was the King of Romantic. Romantic with a capital R. A capital R fifty stories high with flashing neon bulbs. The story behind this massive symphony stays true to his character. The whole thing started (Once upon a time) in 1827. Berlioz happened to see a performance of Othello, and fell ferociously in love with the woman who played the character of Ophelia, Harriet Smithson. (Her name lacks romantic flair, but she was an actress, so we forgive her short-coming.) He started writing her many impassioned love letters, but obviously she had no idea who he was, so the letters went for the most part unanswered. Berlioz, as expected, felt anguish beyond the power of description at his lover's scorn. The fact that he was practically stalking her didn't seem to register. So, in what I believe was a last-ditch effort to win her love, he composed for her a *massive* five-movement programmatic symphony. (As a side note, I think that symphony-writing is a legit route for capturing that ever-elusive lover. It's pretty impressive, and not often attempted. My boyfriend hasn't written me a symphony, just saying.)

On to the actual symphony, and then I'll reveal whether or not it actually won dear little Miss Smithson's heart.

As previously mentioned, this symphony is programmatic. The program notes for all five movements are written out here. The program notes are incredibly specific, so there's not a whole lot for me to say. I'll give a brief overview of each movement, and talk a little bit about the musical idea which is supposed to represent the ideal woman, and how it changes through several of the movements.

The first movement is entitled "Daydreams and Passions." You're on the edge of your seat already, I can sense it. Listen here. A young man (read: angsty musician/Berlioz) falls in love with the beautiful woman of his dreams (read: saucy actress/Smithson). The little melody representing the ideal woman starts at about 6:03, when the violin comes in, and goes to about 6:40-ish. It shows up in every movement, but is changed.

The second movement, "A Ball", can be listened to here. In this movement, the little ideal woman melody shows up quite a bit. It's supposedly symbolic of the thoughts of this woman constantly disturbing the poor man's thoughts. Even in the midst of this enchanting party, he still sees the face of his beautiful would-be lover. *SIGH*

Movement three! "Scene In the Fields" Part I and Part II. Incidentally, this tends to be everyone's least favorite movement, because it's long and pastoral. And no piece of music should be precocious enough to attempt to be both. It's just rude. Young man (Berlioz) literally "reflects upon his isolation." Oh goodness. This movement is the young man saying, "I'm going to go off into nature and wrestle with my feelings." But it's okay, because the fourth movement makes up for it!

Listen to it here. Its title is "March to the Scaffold." The young man is so overcome by grief that he decides to poison himself with opium, then proceeds to have one of the craziest dreams EVER. It's a drug trip musical! He dreams that he kills his ideal woman, and is led to the scaffold and executed. This is great though, if you listen at 4:15, that loud, sudden chord is his head being chopped off, and then rolling off the scaffold. (I'm going to write what you're thinking, and what I'm thinking--ahahahahahahahaha! Yes, I laugh, every time, I think it's terribly funny.)

Anyway, in the final movement (listen here), titled "Dream of a Witches' Sabbath", the young man dreams that all of these horrid creatures have gathered for his funeral. Including, guess who, the lovely ideal woman, who, incidentally, is not so ideal anymore. She reappears in the form of a witch. If you listen closely, you can hear that original ideal woman melody, though now it's turned into a grotesque sort of folk dance. For those who don't know, the Dies irae was a well-known Gregorian chant. Berlioz took it and turned it into a witches' dance, quite a gutsy thing to do at the time.

I spent almost the entire post teasing Berlioz, but this really is a great piece. Sometimes I just can't help myself. But do listen, because it is a masterpiece of Western music, despite being overly-romanticized. And I suppose Berlioz couldn't help that. By the way, Berlioz did finally get Miss Smithson to marry him, and they had a terribly marriage. They couldn't stand each other, and got divorced nine years later.