Symphony No. 7 in D Minor, Op. 70

Antonín Dvořák

Born: September 8, 1841 – Nelahozeves, Czechia, Austrian Empire

Died: May 1, 1904 – Prague, Czechia, Austria-Hungary

Piece Length: Approximately 40’.

On March 10, 1883, Dvořák’s Stabat Mater was performed at the Royal Albert Hall in London. The performance was a tremendous success and launched his reputation as an in-demand composer and conductor in England. Dvořák would visit the country numerous times in the following years to great acclaim. In 1884, Dvořák received a commission from the Philharmonic Society in London to compose a new symphony. He began work on December 13 of that year and completed Symphony No. 7 in D Minor on March 17, 1885.

Dvořák’s Symphony No. 7 stands out from the rest for several reasons. First, unlike much of his music, there are very few references to Slavonic folk music. Dvořák’s experiences with his Symphony No. 6, along with his ambition for a larger international career, perhaps played a large role in this decision. Specifically, No. 6, commissioned by the Vienna Philharmonic, had numerous planned performances postponed. While Dvořák was given many reasons for the postponements, he suspected anti-Czech sentiments played a role. While No. 6 would eventually have its premiere in Prague, it would not be performed in Vienna until 1942.

The other distinctive feature of No. 7 is the mood of the work. It is the darkest of Dvořák’s symphonies, and there has been much speculation as to the cause. Some have attributed the dark mood to the death of his mother; however, given she died two years prior, others have felt this hypothesis unlikely. Other scholars have suggested a compositional crisis Dvořák was working through at the time he wrote the work. Still others have felt the troubled political scene of the time informed the dark nature of the symphony. Some or all of this may be true… yet the answer might be simple. Dvořák had just heard his friend Brahms’ own stormy Symphony No. 3, and when the Philharmonic Society approached him for a commission, he was undoubtedly aware that the same society had commissioned Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in D Minor back in 1817. Perhaps as a nod to Brahms and Beethoven, Dvořák chose the key of D Minor for his new symphony.

The first movement, Allegro maestoso, is in sonata form, and opens with an extended introduction. Typically, the introduction’s music would be separated from the main themes that would come after, but Dvořák chooses to develop his dark, mysterious cello melody into the fiery exposition. Shortly after, the mood brightens; a contrasting, elegant melody appears in the upper winds. Our optimism, however, is short lived. An appearance of the main theme takes us into the turbulent development section, with rising tension. A bold, tutti statement of the theme brings us to the recapitulation, where an extended coda is presented: Dvořák pretending that the movement will end in triumph. Instead, the mood shifts into darkness, ending as it began: in shadow.

Poco adagio is a welcome respite from the stormy first movement. The winds play a beautiful, gentle chorale against pizzicato strings as an introduction, leading to the lyrical first theme. A moment of uncertainty occurs during the transition from the first theme to the second; the strings seem hesitant to commit to a key. The horns, however, take over, giving the music a bucolic feel, and the clarinets bring us into the development with a new melody. For most of this section, Dvořák’s music quickly moves through various keys, ramping up tension until at last, the cellos return to the first theme and original key: the recapitulation. Each of the themes from the exposition are restated, although the second theme so quickly passes by it can be easily missed. The introduction’s music returns towards the end, bringing the movement to a calm, gentle close.

The third movement, Vivace, is in a scherzo ternary form (scherzo-trio-scherzo), typical of the Romantic era. The scherzo section opens with a driving, rhythmic motif, contrasted by the relative calm of the trio section, Poco meno mosso. The trio also features thinner orchestration and more lyrical melodies.

Like the first and second movements, the finale, Allegro, is in sonata form with a long introduction. The first two notes of the theme lead to a sudden loud chord before the dynamics die away, and the theme sinks to the lowest range of the strings. Multiple attempts are made to gain momentum before the strings sweep up, leading to a loud tutti presentation of the main theme. The contrasting section contains two ideas. The first, heard in the cellos, is lyrical and perhaps comes closest to some of the melodies heard in Dvořâk’s Slavonic Dances. The second is a bolder theme distinguishable by long-short rhythms that give the music its energetic drive. The exposition’s energy tapers off, leading to the quiet start of the development section. The first theme is passed around the orchestra as increasingly rapid key changes create a sense of instability. The energy continues to grow, and it seems Dvořák is leading us towards a huge orchestral climax, but Dvořák shifts gears; the music starts to subside. Like in the introduction of this movement, this shift is just a means to restart the momentum. A combination of the first theme played in the winds with the strings playing the long-short rhythm from the contrasting section leads to a dramatic restatement by the whole orchestra and the arrival of the recapitulation. After the contrasting section is played one last time, the symphony moves to an extended coda. While the piece seems to be prepared to end with a tragic tone appropriate for a work in the key of D Minor, a bright D Major chord exultantly concludes what the British musicologist Donal Tovey called “among the greatest and purest examples in this art-form since Beethoven.”