Waltzing Down the River with Johann Strauss II's The Blue Danube
The Listen Guide
The Blue Danube, Op. 314

I'm Johann Strauss II, and this is the listen guide to my waltz The Blue Danube. You'll follow the ten minutes of this waltz, from its hushed opening through the five waltz tunes that follow, and learn to tell each tune apart as it arrives. Here on this site, my fellow composers and I also teach you to recognize our music when it plays, so why not take the Trainer for a spin ?
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Where to Put Your Ears
Before you press play, I'd suggest you don't try to catch everything at once, because this waltz is happiest when you simply let it carry you. Start with the violins and the other strings, which give the music its rocking swing, with a gentle lean on the first beat of every bar. Then listen for the woodwinds and the horns, which pass the melodies around like neighbours handing a dish along a long dinner table. The harp adds a light shimmer here and there, and the percussion quietly dots the i's, so you never need to chase them.The River Is Not Actually Blue
In German I called it An der schönen blauen Donau, and people have been asking about that colour ever since. The title comes from a poem about the Danube by Karl Isidor Beck, and the refrain of that poem gave my waltz its name. The poem is set in Beck's hometown of Baja, in Hungary, so it isn't even about Vienna, which may surprise anyone who thinks of this waltz as purely Viennese. As for the river itself, it usually isn't blue at all, so the title is a bit of poetry and not a weather report.A Waltz With Many Rooms
Choosing the form was an adventure, and I'll tell you right away that it's not a sonata or a rondo, but a chain of waltzes, which suits dancers far better. It opens with an extended introduction, then comes a series of waltz themes labelled 1A to 5B, with short intradas placed between the sections. Near the end there's a coda, followed by a final codetta that closes the door gently behind you. I'll take you through each section one by one in the next paragraphs, and a typical performance of the whole thing lasts about 10 minutes.Section 1: Please Wait While the Dancers Find Their Places
Since 1863 I'd been Music Director of the Court Balls, so I knew that a room full of dancers likes a moment to get ready. That's why the introduction is so extended, staying in A major and taking its time before any dancing begins. Small phrases rise and fade, as though the music were quietly clearing space on the floor. When the first waltz finally arrives, the mood turns from hushed expectation to an easy, open-hearted swing.Section 2: The Tune Everybody Hums
The first waltz is in D major, and it holds the melody that most people recognize even if they've never heard my name. It comes in two parts, labelled 1A and 1B, and the second part answers the first the way a reply follows a question. The mood is relaxed and confident, with the strings out in front and nothing standing in their way. Afterwards, listen for the intrada, a short passage that tidies up one section and points you toward the next.Section 3: The Keys Start to Wander
With the second waltz the music starts to travel, because as the piece goes on it moves through new keys, B-flat major among them. Each change of key is like turning a corner and finding a different view, and your ear enjoys it even if you've never learned the names. Between 2A and 2B the feeling shifts from lilting to a little more playful. Notice how the intradas keep linking everything together, so the music flows along and never stops and starts.Section 4: A Small Cloud Over the Ballroom
Somewhere in the heart of the piece the harmony visits both G major and G minor, and the difference between them is easy to hear. G major keeps things bright and friendly, while G minor lets a little shadow fall across the floor. In the third waltz, with its 3A and 3B tunes, that shadow never lingers and never turns into real sadness. It's more like a thoughtful pause in the middle of a good conversation, and then the lilt carries on.Section 5: Back Into the Sunshine
The fourth waltz brings in F major, which gives the music a warm, open feeling after the shade of the section before. Here the tunes 4A and 4B feel full and generous, as if the whole orchestra were smiling at once. This is also where I like to let the rhythm bounce a little more, so the dancers feel lifted off the floor. If you only have attention for one moment of pure cheerfulness, this is a very good place to spend it.Section 6: The Last Waltz Before the Bows
In the fifth waltz, with its 5A and 5B tunes, the music settles back into A major, the same key where the introduction began. A cadence in F-sharp minor adds a brief touch of shade, a bit like a passing cloud on an otherwise sunny afternoon. Hearing A major again feels like recognizing your own street after a long and happy walk. The mood here is full and satisfied, and you can sense that the evening is moving toward its end.Section 7: My One Regret, Allegedly
The coda is where the evening winds down, and the final codetta adds the last bow. The story goes that I regretted only the coda, and wished it had been a success. That was in the early days of the choral version, which had only a mild success when it first appeared in 1867. Audiences have forgiven me since then, because the waltz is now often called Austria's unofficial second national anthem.Your Turn, Press Play
Now I invite you to try it for yourself, so press play and let the music wash over you. As you listen, keep in mind the swaying strings, the wandering keys and the little intradas that link one waltz to the next. And if anyone claims it was easy to write, remember that Brahms once wrote its opening bars on the fan of my stepdaughter Alice von Meyszner-Strauss and added a note saying, sadly, they weren't his. I hope the journey through my waltz feels as joyful to you as it did to me when I made it.---
I'm Johann Strauss II, and I hope that after all these pages you hear my waltz a little differently than you did before. A piece that began as a choral song with cheeky words, and then travelled so far from its first small performance, still surprises me. Did you enjoy getting to know The Blue Danube through this listen guide? I like to think that the next time those soft violins begin, you'll lean in just as you did the first time, only now you'll know what is coming. There is still plenty more to discover about The Blue Danube. Brahms once wrote the opening bars on a fan and added a note saying, in effect, that it was unfortunately not by him, and that's a story I'm happy to see you chase further. You can also find out how Stanley Kubrick used the waltz in his film 2001: A Space Odyssey, where it drifts through the quiet of space. If you'd like to go on exploring, please click on the links provided here and follow whichever one catches your curiosity. Whenever you return to the waltz, I hope it feels a little more like an old friend.
