Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Op. 27

Program notes

About the Work

Rachmaninoff’s Second Symphony is one of the glories of late Romanticism: a vast, glowing, intensely lyrical work that represents the composer’s triumphant return to the symphony after disaster. His First Symphony had failed catastrophically at its 1897 premiere, sending him into a deep depression; a full decade later, having rebuilt his confidence (and living quietly in Dresden to escape the distractions of Russia), he produced this richly Romantic masterpiece. It was premiered in St Petersburg in 1908 with the composer conducting, and was an immediate and lasting success.

The symphony is everything its predecessor’s premiere was not: assured, expansive and overflowing with the long, soaring melodies and dark, autumnal Russian melancholy that are Rachmaninoff’s signature. At full length it runs close to an hour (Rachmaninoff thinks in broad, unhurried paragraphs), and it builds to one of the most famous slow movements in the repertoire, whose great clarinet melody is among the most ravishing tunes ever written. It is music to be luxuriated in: warm, passionate, nostalgic and ultimately triumphant.

What to Listen For

The symphony grows from a brooding motto in the low strings at the very opening, a germinal idea that recurs throughout the work, binding its huge span together. Listen for the first movement’s slow, dark introduction giving way to a surging, melancholy main movement, full of Rachmaninoff’s characteristic long-spun melody.

The second movement is a vigorous scherzo: listen for the striding horn theme and the energetic drive, with a broad, sweeping lyrical contrast and a chattering fugal central section. Then comes the glory of the symphony: the Adagio, opening with a great soaring melody in the violins and, soon after, the famous long clarinet solo, one of the most beautiful melodies in all music, unfolding with seemingly endless breath. Let it wash over you. The finale is a blazing, festive movement that gathers up the symphony’s themes (including a return of that ravishing slow-movement music) and drives, through surging climaxes, to a triumphant, bell-like close in the major, the hard-won affirmation of a composer who had once thought himself finished.