Babbling Brooks and Beethoven's Symphony No 6
IV. Allegro
Symphony No. 6 in F major, Op. 68 ("Pastoral")
I'm Ludwig van Beethoven, and I'm about to explain the fourth movement of my Symphony No 6, the Allegro called "Thunder, storm". Listen to how the calm of the countryside turns dark in F minor, with a piccolo flashing like lightning, and you'll feel what a sudden storm does to a peaceful day. Anyone who wants to recognize my pieces when they start can do it on this site, where my fellow composers and I teach that, so give it a try today.
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Hold On to Your Hat, Not the Plot
I'd tell you to listen to this movement the way you'd watch weather roll in over a hillside: you don't need a map, you just need to pay attention. Follow the strings first, because they carry the restless, driving energy, and I wrote the movement in F minor, which gives everything a darker color than the happy F major around it. Then keep an ear out for the special visitors, the piccolo, the timpani and the trombones, who each show up with a job to do. You don't have to know a single instrument's name, because when something new arrives you'll hear it right away.Why I Called It "Thunder, Storm"
I gave this movement the title "Thunder, storm" because I wanted you to know where you are the moment it begins. It isn't a news report about one particular afternoon, since what I care about is the feeling nature stirs in us, and a sudden storm stirs plenty. Anyone who has been caught outdoors when the sky turned dark will recognize the unease, the rush and the relief that follows. A title like that points you in the right direction, and then the music does the rest.Choosing a Shape for a Sky That Won't Sit Still
Choosing the form for this movement was an adventure, because a storm doesn't follow a neat floor plan. So I'll walk you through it as a sequence of moments, each one growing out of the last, from the sudden start to the calm that comes after. There are four of them: the interruption, the lightning and thunder, the great chord of the trombones, and the quiet way out. I'll take them one at a time, and you'll see how they link up into one short, dramatic journey.Section 1: The Party Ends Early
The movement doesn't begin on its own, because the dance of the country folk before it breaks off and the storm starts at once. That sudden change is the first thing to listen for, since the mood flips from cheerful to anxious in the space of a breath. The tempo is Allegro, quick and urgent, and the music sits in F minor, so the sunny feeling of the dance is gone. Think of everyone looking up at the sky at the same moment, and you'll have the mood exactly.Section 2: Lightning Shows Up With a Piccolo
Now the storm gathers itself, and this is where I bring in the piccolo to suggest lightning and the timpani to suggest thunder. The piccolo is the smallest, highest voice in the orchestra, so its flashes cut through everything else like a sharp, bright streak. The timpani answer from below with deep rumbles, and the contrast between the high and the low makes the whole space feel enormous. Meanwhile the music keeps its fast Allegro pace in 4/4, so you always feel the storm pressing forward.Section 3: The Trombones Make an Entrance
At the peak of the storm I give the trombones a huge syncopated chord, which means the weight of it lands off the beat where you least expect it. That off-balance quality is what makes the moment so unsettling, as if the ground has shifted under your feet. It's the loudest, most dramatic point of the movement, and I wanted it to feel like the sky itself had opened. After this, the worst is behind us, and you can sense the energy beginning to turn.Section 4: A Flute Shows You the Way Out
As the storm moves away, the orchestra grows calmer, and the clouds seem to thin out bit by bit. Then a solo flute climbs upward in a rising scale, a little like a first patch of clear sky, and it leads us straight into the finale. I don't stop for a pause here, since the last three movements are meant to flow into one another without a break. What waits on the other side is the shepherd's song in F major, and after all that darkness the change of key feels like stepping into sunlight.Your Turn: Press Play
Now it's your turn to hear this movement for yourself, so press play and let the storm carry you along. While it plays, think back to what we talked about: the abrupt start, the piccolo and the timpani, the trombones' big chord, and the flute at the end. You don't need to catch everything, because the music works on you even when you're simply listening. I hope you enjoy the journey through this movement as much as I enjoyed building it.---
Did you enjoy making your way through this listen guide to Symphony No 6's IV. Allegro? I hope the storm now sounds a little less like noise and a little more like a feeling you already know. When I wrote it, I wasn't trying to paint a picture of the weather. I wanted to capture what it feels like when the sky darkens, the air gets heavy, and then, little by little, everything calms down again. The next time you hear that rising flute scale lead out of the storm, I hope you'll notice how much lighter it feels. There is still a lot more to explore in Symphony No 6. The other movements each have their own mood, and the symphony was first heard in Vienna in 1808, at a long concert that also introduced my Fifth. If you're curious, I'd love for you to click on the links below and keep exploring Symphony No 6. You can listen to the other movements, and I think you'll hear how the storm fits into the whole. Whenever you head outdoors, pay attention to the sounds around you, because that's where this music began.