Stepping Onto the Floor for Brahms's Hungarian Dance No 5
The Listen Guide

Four Hands or a Full Orchestra

When you listen to Hungarian Dance No 5 today, you might hear a full orchestra arranged by Albert Parlow or Martin Schmeling, or you might hear a piano. I originally wrote the piece for two people sitting side by side at one piano, before I published my own version for a solo pianist in 1872. In that original four-hand setting, the player on the left lays down a steady, driving two-beat pulse while the player on the right takes care of the fiery melody. The best way to listen is to pay attention to how those two parts tug at the speed, almost as if the melody is trying to run ahead while the bass holds onto its coat.

Why I Kept the Label Simple

You might wonder why a piece with so much personality carries a plain title like Hungarian Dance No 5. It is simply the fifth piece in a collection of twenty-one dances I put together from Hungarian-style tunes, starting with the melodies I heard while touring with the violinist Ede Reményi. Because I saw myself as arranging existing music rather than inventing my own from scratch, I published the set without an opus number under the catalogue mark WoO 1. The main tune here actually came from a csárdás called Bártfai emlék by Béla Kéler, so numbering the dance in my first book in March 1869 was the most honest label I could give it.

A Musical Sandwich in Three Parts

Choosing the layout for Hungarian Dance No 5 was very straightforward because the dance style naturally thrives on sharp contrast. Instead of building a complicated sonata or a long rondo, I organized the piece into a clear three-part ABA form in lively two-four time. That means we start with a bold opening section, move into a completely different middle part, and then bring the opening section right back to finish. Hold onto your hat, because we are going to walk through all three sections one by one so you know exactly what to listen for.

Section 1: Stepping Out With Drama

In the first section, marked Allegro, I drop you straight into a dark, dramatic mood in F-sharp minor, or G minor if you are listening to an orchestra. The main tune starts with a proud, sweeping climb that immediately grabs your attention and refuses to let go. Right after that bold opening phrase, I ask the players to stretch the pace with markings like poco più largo before snapping right back in tempo. It feels a bit like someone stopping in the middle of a brisk walk to admire their own reflection in a shop window before hurrying on.

Section 2: Sunshine and Sudden Brakes

For the second section, I switch the tempo to a brisker Vivace and brighten the mood by shifting into the major key, F-sharp major on the piano or G major for the orchestra. The music here feels lighter on its feet, trading the heavy boots of the opening for a nimble, carefree sprint. Even in this cheerful mood, I cannot resist playing tricks with the clock, making the melody suddenly drag its heels and then dart forward again. Those sudden shifts in speed were so vivid that Charlie Chaplin later timed a whole barbershop shave to them in his 1940 film The Great Dictator.

Section 3: Back to Business

In the third section, I bring back the opening Allegro and return us to the stormy minor key where our journey began. Hearing that fierce main tune a second time after the sunny middle part makes its dark drama stand out even more clearly. Every hesitation and sudden burst of speed is back in place, though now you know the road and can anticipate every twist. I wrap the whole dance up with three sharp, decisive chords that slam the door shut without a single wasted note.

Your Turn to Press Play

Now it is time for you to listen to Hungarian Dance No 5 for yourself. Go ahead and start the music, and let those shifting rhythms carry you along from the first beat. As it plays, see if you can spot the bright middle section and those playful moments where the tempo stretches and snaps back. I hope you have as much fun following the twists of my Hungarian Dance No 5 as Clara Schumann and I had when we first played these dances in November 1868!