Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique See also Texts and Documents ; Berlioz and his music: self-borrowings The Symphonie Fantastique was initially composed in 1830 and first performed in December of the same year under the direction of Habeneck. Berlioz however revised the work extensively during his trip to Italy in 1831-2 and in subsequent years and did not publish it until 1845. The work as we now know it is thus substantially different from the original of 1830, which can no longer be reconstructed in full detail. The Symphonie Fantastique has always been the work with which Berlioz’s name is most closely associated. The composition of this revolutionary masterpiece marked a breakthrough in the composer’s career, at once the culmination of his years of apprenticeship, and the starting point of his mature work as a symphonic composer. The impact that Beethoven had on Berlioz is evident in the work, but no less evident is Berlioz’s originality in opening up new paths that Beethoven had not explored, and the sound world of Berlioz is entirely his own.

The programme on which the symphony was initially based went through a number of changes between 1830 and 1855. It does not need to be repeated at length here (the full text of the two principal versions, those of 1845 and 1855, is given in Texts and Documents ). Under the influence of opium (in the 1855 version), a young and sensitive artist (Berlioz himself), experiences a series of visions – the different movements of the symphony – in which his beloved figures as a theme, the idée fixe, which recurs in every movement, though each time in a different form (cf. the Memoirs chapter 45 in relation to Harold in Italy ). The theme had already been used by Berlioz in his cantata Herminie written for the Prix de Rome of 1828 (H 29), though it is much more fully developed in the symphony than in the cantata. The idée fixe pervades the volatile and tempestuous first movement. The opening melody of the slow introduction (itself taken from an early song composed by Berlioz, cf.

his Memoirs chapter 4 ) alludes to it, and prepares the listener for the first full statement of the theme at the start of the allegro (bar 71 and following). The allegro is in sonata form, but hardly has a second subject. After a series of long and stormy developments the end of the movement alludes retrospectively to the introduction. The second movement, an elegant waltz rather like a rondo in form, makes a complete contrast with the first. The movement is notable for its scoring, at once delicate and brilliant, and the use of two harps gives the music a festive glitter that is characteristic of Berlioz – compare the harps in Part II of Romeo and Juliet , the last movement of the Te Deum , the Trojan March , and Berlioz’s orchestration of Weber ’s Invitation to the Dance . The idée fixe is heard twice, in bars 120-162 in its complete form, then more briefly in bars 302-319 before being swept away by the whirlwind which brings the waltz to a brilliant close.

The autograph score of the symphony contains a part for solo cornet added by Berlioz at a later date, but not reproduced by him in the full score of the work published in his lifetime. Performances and recordings of the symphony sometimes include this part for cornet. The movement is presented here in two versions, the first without and the second with the cornet part. The long third movement is the musical heart of the symphony, as well as the pivotal point in the drama: from the world of imagined reality in the first three movements the music moves to the world of imagined nightmare in the last two. The origins of the movement are complex, though Berlioz fuses the different elements together to form a seamless whole.

The main subject (bar 20 and following), briefly hinted at in the first movement (bars 4-5), is now known to have been used previously in the Gratias of his early Messe Solennelle of 1824-5 (rediscovered in 1991), though as well as a change of key from E major to F major, the treatment of the theme in the symphony is much more elaborate and varied; the movement is in effect a set of variations on the main theme. The shepherd’s piping heard in the introduction (bars 1-20), then again at the close of the movement (bars 175-96), recalls through its similarity of key, instrumental colour (the use of the cor anglais) and mood the romance of Marguerite in the Huit Scènes de Faust composed not much earlier, in 1828-9 (H 33), as though these were two versions of the same idea. Beyond this the movement is also an obvious homage to Beethoven whose discovery in 1828 put Berlioz firmly on the path of symphonic music.

The movement recalls the Pastoral Symphony , written in the same luminous key of F major, and there are intentional echoes, notably the discreet allusions to the bird song of the end of the second movement of the Pastoral Symphony in bar 67 and following. The mood of isolation which pervades the movement is, however, very different from Beethoven’s celebration of nature in dance and song. The idée fixe, briefly alluded to early in the movement (bars 38-41), reappears in the stormy middle episode in the wind and in a modified form in the basses (bars 87-102), then again more quietly in the concluding pages (bars 150-4). Two technical points on this movement: (1) In several places in this movement the viola section is divided in two. In this version, in order to preserve the evenness of tonal balance, the viola parts have been notated throughout as divided, even when they play in unison (except for the final bars 197-9).

(2) In order to obtain a semblance of crescendo and decrescendo on the timpani rolls at the close of the movement, it has been necessary to notate some bars using shorter note values than what Berlioz wrote (bars 177, 182-3, 188-9; the same applies to a few passages earlier, bars 14, 16, 159). A transcription of bars 175-196 as notated in the original score is available on this site; in this notation the crescendi and decrescendi of the timpani do not reproduce as they are meant to. The fourth movement originated as a march of the guards in Berlioz’s early opera Les Francs Juges (H 23), composed mainly in 1826 and revised in 1829.

In adapting the piece for the Symphonie Fantastique Berlioz added a strikingly unexpected reference to the beginning of the idée fixe at the climax of the march: the artist, led to execution for murdering his beloved, remembers her on the scaffold, but the melody is abruptly cut off by the fall of the guillotine and the concluding uproar (bar 164 to the end of the movement). The fifth movement is the most obviously provocative of the whole symphony and goes well beyond anything that had been attempted in this kind of music before. The nearest model available at the time, the Wolf’s Glen scene at the end of Act II of Weber ’s Der Freischütz, is only partly comparable: it uses a mixture of speech, song, melodrama and orchestral music, whereas Berlioz relies solely on the orchestra. The movement is also the freest in form of the symphony’s five movements, though is actually very carefully constructed. After a brief introduction which sets the atmosphere (bars 1-20), the idée fixe makes its last appearance, only to be subjected to musical vilification and quickly dismissed (bars 21-78).

The real business of the night can then begin: first the Dies irae (bars 127-221), then the Witches’ Sabbath (bars 241-347), with in the end the inevitable coming together of the two as the music hurtles to its headlong conclusion (bars 348-524). More than most other orchestral pieces in Berlioz this movement exposes all too clearly the limits of the Midi system, which can only give a very imperfect idea of its extraordinary range of sonorities. In particular, there is no adequate equivalent for the deep bells that Berlioz had in mind (bars 102-223) and instead a piano sound has been used for this passage – a practice followed by Berlioz himself in his concert tours when suitable bells were not available. Nor is there a proper col legno sound for the violins and violas in bars 444-60: a xylophone has been substituted here as an admittedly unsatisfactory replacement.

To improve the realism of playback a few passages have been notated in full and not in abbreviated form, notably the string sextuplets in bars 4 and 15, and the rolls for timpani and bass drum in bars 306, 311 and 316. Music History 102 Born: La Côte-Saint-André, Isère, December 11, 1803 Died: Paris, March 8, 1869 Sent to Paris by his father to study medicine, Berlioz instead studied music, supporting himself by writing about music and giving lessons. Berlioz may well have been the first great composer to not be able to play a musical instrument, nor to have shown any musical talent at an early age. But he perservered, and became interested in the vast possibilities of orchestration and the different combinations of instrumental sounds. In 1844, he wrote a book on orchestration (Traite de l'Instrumentation - Treatise on Orchestration), which is still widely regarded as one of the best in the field. Berlioz' advances in this area contributed greatly to the growth and development of the modern symphony orchestra.

In 1830, only three years after the death of Beethoven , Berlioz composed his most famous work, the programmatic Symphonie fantastique. Having an autobiographical basis, the piece is a highly romantic program symphony in five movements, the story of which tells of an artist who, unhappy in love, takes an overdose of opium and dreams of his own passions and desires, his beloved, her murder, and his own death. Berlioz had seen the Irish actress Harriet Smithson perform in Shakespeare's Hamlet and had fallen passionately, even hysterically in love with her. He intended to immortalize his love in music with his symphonie. The artist's beloved is represented throughout the work by a melodic motif known as the idée fixe, a device which serves to unify the disparate elements of the symphony. The fourth movement is entitled "March to the Scaffold," and depicts the protagonist's dream of his own execution for having killed his faithless beloved. The symphony was wildly successful at its premiere, and made a name for its young composer, if not a fortune. Berlioz' remarkable gift for orchestration resulted in sounds never before heard from a symphony orchestra.

Greatly criticized during his lifetime for his orchestral extravagance, the brilliance and overwhelming effect of such instrumental excerpts as the Rakoczy March from the dramatic cantata The Damnation of Faust and the Royal Hunt and Storm from Berlioz' immense grand opera Les Troyens (The Trojans), have earned Berlioz lasting fame as a composer who was definitely ahead of his time. His theories and creative use of the symphony orchestra influenced such composers as Franz Liszt and Richard Wagner , but his greatness was not clearly recognized in his own country until the advent of the French composers of the late nineteenth century . Music History 102: a Guide to Western Composers and their music Designed, compiled and created by Robert Sherrane Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique: Keeping Score | PBS Shop Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique Symphonie fantastique is an epic for a huge orchestra. Through its movements, it tells the story of an artist's self-destructive passion for a beautiful woman. The symphony describes his obsession and dreams, tantrums and moments of tenderness, and visions of suicide and murder, ecstasy and despair. The story is a self-portrait of its composer, Hector Berlioz.

Hector Berlioz was born in 1803 in La Cote St André, a small town near the French Alps. His mother was a devout Catholic and his father a noted doctor. At twelve, Berlioz discovered music. He became an accomplished flautist, picked up the guitar and then taught himself to play drums. As a teen, Berlioz suffered from isolation and bouts of uncontrollable mood swings. These dramas, coupled with his fantasies of love and loss, provided Berlioz with the raw materials for his life's work. Berlioz left home for Paris to study medicine, but soon turned his attention to music. His father allowed him time to prove himself in this new endeavor but his mother considered theatrical ambitions sinful and disowned him. Dreams and Passions In 1828, Paris buzzed with two sensations, Beethoven and Shakespeare. Beethoven's music established the Romantic ideal; instead of fitting suitable music into classical forms, Beethoven reconfigured the symphony and the personnel of the orchestra to accommodate his emotional expression. Berlioz couldn't get enough of it. Shakespeare, as presented by the Irish actress, Harriet Smithson, changed Berlioz's life forever.

From the moment he saw her, he was obsessed. Symphonie fantastique is nothing less than Berlioz's extravagant attempt to attract Harriet's attention. The piece begins by introducing the listener to the vulnerable side of the protagonist, the Artist. The object of the Artist's love is represented by an elusive theme called the "idée fixe" – the object of fixation. Violins and flute float flirtatiously through the charming melody. The noise of the rest of the orchestra represents the Artist's frustration and despair. Frightening outbursts alternate with moments of the greatest tenderness. It all leads to a moment of complete frenzy and collapse. Symphonie fantastique premiered in Paris in 1830. Reactions were mixed. Most disappointingly, Harriet Smithson did not attend. A Ball The second movement invites us to a ball. Two harps lead the waltz as the music alternates between watching the dancers and spying on the Artist trying to gain the attention of his beloved. After the disappointment of the premiere, Berlioz decided to compete for the prestigious Prix de Rome. For the competition, entrants were given a melody and had to write a fugue (a form with very strict rules) on the spot.

It took Berlioz four years to master the devilish form but at last he won. The Prix de Rome earned Berlioz the national recognition he craved plus a subsidy to study for two years in Rome. Scenes in the Fields While in Italy, Berlioz explored the musical landscape of the countryside and continued to polish Symphonie fantastique. The Third Movement of Symphonie fantastique opens with an echo from Berlioz's childhood: the sound of a cowherd's melody. Berlioz uses the huge orchestra to create the sense of suspension of time that intimacy can bring. This movement was the most difficult to compose for Berlioz. The music is always only a heartbeat away from the jealous rages that arise when the Artist sees his beloved with someone else. By 1832, Berlioz was back in Paris and determined to win public opinion with a new version of Symphonie fantastique. He arranged for a second premiere. Meanwhile, Harriet Smithson was no longer a favorite in Paris and was deeply in debt. Berlioz sent her tickets to the best seats in the house for opening night.

March to the Scaffold In the fourth movement Berlioz begins to reveal the truly sinister side of his imagination. The program notes read, "The Artist, knowing beyond all doubt that his love is not returned, poisons himself with opium. The narcotic plunges him into sleep, accompanied by the most horrible visions." The first of those visions is the "March to the Scaffold." In it, the Artist is executed for the murder of his beloved. The march echoes the sound of the real life bands that would accompany the condemned to their execution. The military band escorts the prisoner to the enthusiastic cheers of the strings. In the last instant of his life the Artist thinks of his beloved. Her theme begins but is truncated by the blade of the guillotine. The Artist's head bounces down the steps, the drums roll and the crowds roar. Dream of a Witches' Sabbath The fifth movement is a satanic dream. The Artist sees himself in the midst of a ghastly crowd of sorcerers and monsters assembled for his funeral. The air is filled with strange groans, bursts of laughter, shouts and echoes. Suddenly, the Artist's beloved appears as a witch, her theme distorted into spiteful parody.

A vast church bell begins to chime the peal of death. Bassoons and tubas bark out the Dies Irae – the traditional funeral chant. The orchestra divides into teams to enact a sinister ritual. The groaning theme from the beginning of the movement transforms into a merry black Sabbath dance. The form of the dance is the fugue – after struggling to master the form for the Prix de Rome, Berlioz chose the fugue to represent his vision of hell. The music whips into a frenzy as it bears the soul of the Artist to his damnation. His beloved gloats over the scene. Such an ending had never been heard before. At the conclusion of this second premiere, the audience erupted in applause. Harriet Smithson finally understood that Symphonie fantastique was about her. She agreed to receive Berlioz. Hector and Harriet started to act out in reality what the Symphonie fantastique only imagined. He began to woo her and then he did something desperate. From his pocket, Berlioz produced a vial containing a lethal dose of opium. Before Smithson's eyes, he swallowed it. She became hysterical and agreed to marry him.

Then, conveniently, he produced the antidote from another pocket and swallowed that. After recuperating, Hector Berlioz and Harriet Smithson were married 1833. Ultimately, Smithson and Berlioz separated, but he always took care of her. They are buried together in Montmartre Cemetery. With Symphonie fantastique, Berlioz stepped into his artistic maturity. The lovesick teenager had become the Artist who had won the heart of his fixation. More Episodes Oregon Symphony: Angela Hewitt Plays Mozart Angela Hewitt Plays Mozart AReveries and Passions: Largo - Allegro agitato e appassionato assai A Ball: Waltz - Allegro non troppo In the Country: Adagio March to the Scaffold: Allegretto non troppo Dream of the Witches' Sabbath: Larghetto - Allegro ANTON WEBERN Passacaglia for Orchestra, Op. 1 Vital Stats Composer: born Dec. 3, 1883, Vienna; died Sept. 15, 1945, Mittersill, Austria Work composed: 1908 World premiere: Webern conducted the premiere on Nov.

4, 1908, at the Musikverein in Vienna. Oregon Symphony premiere: At these concerts Instrumentation: piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, bass clarinet, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, bass drum, cymbals, tam tam, triangle, harp and strings Estimated duration 11 minutes Anton Webern, Arnold Schoenberg and Alban Berg (known collectively as the Second Viennese School) revolutionized musical composition. Prior to the early 20th century, musical theory followed musical practice. In the 18th century, for example, composers wrote their music according to their creative impulses and the conventions of their time. Some years later, musical scholars would study the music and devise a theory of how it was composed, imposing rules unknown to the composer. When Schoenberg developed his 12-tone theory, in which all 12 tones in a chromatic musical scale had equal value, theory and theory-based music emerged simultaneously.

Despite his interest this avant-garde approach to composition, Webern did not consider himself a revolutionary. Instead, Webern saw himself as an inheritor of past musical traditions, traditions he revered. As a doctoral student he had immersed himself in the Renaissance music of Heinrich Isaac, a master of 16th century counterpoint. For Webern, Isaac’s music, and that of his Netherlands Renaissance colleagues, embodied an ideal of balance in which the music is a perfect blend of emotional content and structural substance without pretense or flourishes. In his own music, Webern paid homage to the musical past, combining old forms with melodies and harmonies based on the hitherto unexplored world of atonality. To that end, Webern often utilized old genres, like the passacaglia, a series of variations over a continuously repeating bass line, popular during the Baroque period.

(Although most of Webern’s music is based on 12-tone row theory, the Passacaglia retains elements of tonality, although they can be hard to discern in one hearing.) In the preface to the score of his Passacaglia, Webern wrote, “[The Passacaglia is] a composition in which the point is not imagery, stimulus of atmosphere and coloristic effect, but rather purity of delineation, discipline of compositional technique and density of musical substance.” Webern’s Passacaglia has 23 variations following the introduction of the primary theme. With his emphasis on formal structure, Webern’s music has at times been characterized as lacking an emotional core. However, this music pulses with feeling. In 1912, Webern told Berg that most of his music, beginning with the Passacaglia, “relates to the death of my mother.” We can hear Webern’s grief in spiky, angular variations and wild, heartbroken outcries, juxtaposed with tender, intimate expressions of his abiding love. WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major, K. 488 Vital Stats Composer: born Jan.

27, 1756, Salzburg, Austria; died Dec. 5, 1791, Vienna Work composed: Mozart may have begun composing this concerto in 1784. In the catalog of works he began keeping in 1784, Mozart wrote that he completed it on Mar. 2, 1786, in Vienna. World premiere: Most likely in March 1786 at a Lenten concert in Vienna, although the exact date and other details of the premiere performance are undocumented. As with most of his concertos, Mozart wrote this one for a subscription concert to generate income; whenever it premiered, Mozart would have conducted from the keyboard and performed the solo part. Oregon Symphony premiere: Mar. 16, 1980, with James DePreist conducting; John Browning, piano soloist Most recent Oregon Symphony performances: Feb.

26-28, 2000, with DePreist conducting; Horacio Gutiérrez, piano soloist Instrumentation Solo piano, flute, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns and strings Estimated duration 26 minutes Mozart wrote the majority of his piano concertos during the 1780s, and, as was his habit, he often worked on several compositions simultaneously. Such is the case with the Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major, K. 488, one of three piano concertos (along with the E flat, K. 482 and the C minor, K. 491) Mozart wrote at the same time he composed his opera The Marriage of Figaro. On first inspection, there seems little similarity between K. 488, a lyrical, reflective work, and the exuberant silliness that embodies Figaro. A closer look, however, reveals some interesting parallels between concerto and opera.

There are moments in Figaro, particularly the countess’ poignant aria, Porgi amor, in which she laments her loveless marriage, and in the finale, when the count begs forgiveness, that echo the emotional depth and tenderness of the concerto. Correspondingly, there are passages in the concerto, particularly in the second movement Adagio, that are clearly vocal (if not operatic) in both construction and conception. When performing, Mozart improvised cadenzas for all his concertos, although many do not survive in written form; other composers, including Beethoven, composed and notated cadenzas for several Mozart piano concertos. K. 488 is unusual in that Mozart’s original cadenza not only survives but was notated directly into the score. K. 488 stands out among Mozart’s piano concerto repertoire for other reasons. Although oboes were standard instruments in 18th century orchestras, Mozart uses clarinets in K. 488 instead. Mozart loved the sound of this relatively new instrument, and its dark round tone adds a pensive, melancholy quality to the orchestration, particularly the Adagio.

Mozart departs from convention again in scoring the Adagio in a minor key. Mozart’s choice of a minor key, and the particular key itself, F-sharp minor, were rare departures from his usual practice and lend a poignancy to his music we do not often hear. K. 488 was published in 1800, and throughout most of the 19th century, it was one of only a few of Mozart’s concertos to be performed. It became, and remains, one of Mozart’s most popular piano concertos – and indeed one of his most beloved works. HECTOR BERLIOZ Symphonie fantastique (Episode in the Life of an Artist), Op. 14 Vital Stats Composer: born Dec. 11, 1803, La Côte-Saint-André, Isère, France; died Mar. 8, 1869, Paris Work composed: Between January and April of 1830, although some of the material Berlioz included was written as early as 1819. World premiere: François-Antoine Habeneck conducted the premiere in Paris on Dec. 5, 1830.

Two years later, on Dec. 9, 1832, Habeneck, with Berlioz in the orchestra playing drums, conducted a substantially revised version, also in Paris. Oregon Symphony premiere: Dec. 15, 1930, with Willem van Hoogstraten conducting Most recent Oregon Symphony performances: Sept. 13-15, 2003, with Carlos Kalmar conducting Instrumentation:2 flutes (one doubling piccolo), 2 oboes (one doubling English horn), 2 clarinets, 4 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 2 cornets, 3 trombones, 2 tubas (ophicleides), 2 sets of timpani, bass drum, cymbals, bells, snare drum, 2 harps and strings Estimated duration: 49 minutes Say what you want about Hector Berlioz: He was an arrogant, selfish, self-obsessed man, full of vitriol (try reading his music criticism sometime), and he drove poor Harriet Smithson, the inspiration for his Symphonie fantastique, who was so unfortunate as to marry him, to drink and despair.

All true, to be sure, but none of Berlioz’ deficits as a human being take away from the fact that at age 27, he wrote, by general agreement, the most amazing first symphony any composer has yet produced. This feat is all the more surprising when we realize that Berlioz completed his Symphonie fantastique just three years after Beethoven’s death. When heard in that context, it is possible to appreciate how truly original this music is. Berlioz was no doubt inspired by Beethoven’s own symphonic innovations, especially Beethoven’s use of a program in his Sixth (Pastoral) Symphony, but, typically, Berlioz pushed the programmatic elements further than any composer had previously done. Berlioz’ inspiration for the Symphonie fantastique was born from his obsession with Smithson, an Irish actress he first saw in a production of Hamlet in 1827. Berlioz spoke almost no English, so it seems clear that his violent infatuation with Smithson was carnal rather than courtly.

(Berlioz and Smithson did not actually meet for another five years, after the premiere of the revised version of the Symphonie fantastique.) What made Berlioz’ program so innovative and shocking to his audiences was the extent to which the story was overtly autobiographical and literary. Along with Smithson, who was musically transformed into the idée fixe, or recurring theme, of the symphony, Berlioz drew on plots from literature, most notably Faust, in his exploration of the ruinous and glorious nature of love. What audiences, both then and now, often misunderstood was the quintessentially Romantic nature of Berlioz’ program. He was not interested in a literal depiction of events but rather the transformation of his emotional response to those events into music. Berlioz insisted that his music could not be understood or appreciated without its accompanying program, which he provided to audiences at the first performances of the work. Its five movements, in roughest outline, proceed as follows: Part I: Dreams – Passions: Boy meets girl. Part II: A Ball: Boy obsesses about girl.

Part III: A Scene In the Country: While strolling about the countryside listening to shepherds’ songs, boy convinces himself girl doesn’t return his love. Part IV: March to the Scaffold: In despair, boy takes a less-than-fatal dose of opium, enough to induce horrible visions and hallucinations, including a death march to the guillotine. Part V: Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath: Still hallucinating, the boy dreams his funeral is a witches’ Sabbath, and his beloved joins in the diabolical festivities. Or, as Leonard Bernstein so eloquently put it, in one of his Young Peoples’ Concerts: “Berlioz tells it like it is.

… You take a trip, you wind up screaming at your own funeral.” © 2010 Elizabeth Schwartz Hector Berlioz's Original Program Notes for Symphonie fantastique Composer Hector Berlioz wrote these program notes for the 1830 premiere of his Symphonie fantastique: Part One: Dreams – Passions The author imagines that a young musician, afflicted with that moral disease that a well-known writer calls the vague des passions, sees for the first time a woman who embodies all the charms of the ideal being he has imagined in his dreams, and he falls desperately in love with her. Through an odd whim, whenever the beloved image appears before the mind's eye of the artist, it is linked with a musical thought whose character, passionate but at the same time noble and shy, he finds similar to the one he attributes to his beloved. This melodic image and the model it reflects pursue him incessantly like a double idée fixe. That is the reason for the constant appearance, in every movement of the symphony, of the melody that begins the first Allegro.

The passage from this state of melancholy reverie, interrupted by a few fits of groundless joy, to one of frenzied passion, with its gestures of fury, of jealousy, its return of tenderness, its tears, its religious consolations – this is the subject of the first movement. Part Two: A Ball The artist finds himself in the most varied situations – in the midst of the tumult of a party, in the peaceful contemplation of the beauties of nature; but everywhere, in town, in the country, the beloved image appears before him and disturbs his peace of mind. Part Three: A Scene in the Country Finding himself one evening in the country, he hears in the distance two shepherds piping a ranz des vaches in dialogue. This pastoral duet, the scenery, the quiet rustling of the trees gently brushed by the wind, the hopes he has recently found some reason to entertain – all concur in affording his heart an unaccustomed calm and in giving a more cheerful color to his ideas. He reflects upon his isolation; he hopes that his loneliness will soon be over. – But what if she were deceiving him!

– This mingling of hope and fear, these ideas of happiness disturbed by black presentiments, form the subject of the Adagio. At the end, one of the shepherds again takes up the ranz des vaches; the other no longer replies. – Distant sound of thunder – loneliness – silence. Part Four: March to the Scaffold Convinced that his love is unappreciated, the artist poisons himself with opium. The dose of the narcotic, too weak to kill him, plunges him into a sleep accompanied by the most horrible visions. He dreams that he has killed his beloved, that he is condemned and led to the scaffold and that he is witnessing his own execution. The procession moves forward to the sounds of a march that is now somber and fierce, now brilliant and solemn, in which the muffled noise of heavy steps gives way without transition to the noisiest clamor. At the end of the march the first four measures of the idée fixe reappear, like a last thought of love interrupted by the fatal blow.

Part Five: Dream of a Witches' Sabbath He sees himself at the sabbath, in the midst of a frightful troop of ghosts, sorcerers, monsters of every kind, come together for his funeral. Strange noises, groans, bursts of laughter, distant cries which other cries seem to answer. The beloved melody appears again, but it has lost its character of nobility and shyness; it is no more than a dance tune, mean, trivial, and grotesque: it is she, coming to join the sabbath. – A roar of joy at her arrival. – She takes part in the devilish orgy. – Funeral knell, burlesque parody of the Dies irae [a hymn sung in the funeral rites of the Catholic Church], sabbath round-dance. The sabbath round and the Dies irae are combined. Program Notes by Elizabeth Schwartz Elizabeth Schwartz is a Portland-based free-lance writer, researcher and musician. In addition annotating programs for the Oregon Symphony and other ensembles, she has also contributed to NPR’s Performance Today (now heard on American Public Media). Schwartz also co-hosts The Portland Yiddish Hour, heard at 10 a.m.

Sundays on KBOO 90.7 FM. Email: schwartzelizabeth@yahoo.com . Recommended Recordings by Michael Parsons Webern: Passacaglia Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14 Hector Berlioz Composed: 1829-1830 1830. Paris. Hector Berlioz, aged 26, is experiencing even more intense shocks to his psyche than is normally the case in the anything but placid life of the arch-Romantic composer. “I have just been plunged into an endless, insatiable passion,” he wrote to his friend Humbert Ferrand. “She is still in London, and yet I feel her near.” The “she” was Harriet Smithson, an Irish Shakespearean actress of reportedly modest professional endowments but considerable personal magnetism. Smithson, after a period of indifference, which worked its way up to mild curiosity, then qualified interest and presumably a stage well beyond, married her wild-eyed suitor in 1833. The union proved stormy and ultimately intolerable to both parties.

(The fact that she never learned to speak more than minimal French and he never learned English may have caused some misunderstandings.) Berlioz was initially, when still a Smithson observer rather than an intimate, “paralyzed by passion” (his words) for her. He was beginning “a great symphony” when the fit of passion overtook him and froze all creativity. Smithson’s arrival in Paris a few weeks later occasioned a thaw and work began on the first version of the Symphonie fantastique, completed in April of 1830. The premiere had been scheduled, long before the work’s conclusion, to take place in May. But the score was still incomplete when the fatal date approached. Thus, the composer “worked in a frenzy” (again, his words), borrowing bits from his other scores and leaving in portions he had planned to revise later. Nerves were raw from the outset at the first rehearsal, which took place on a stage far too small to accommodate the sizable orchestra. Berlioz, never the most accommodating of colleagues, was especially difficult to deal with in his capacity of conductor. After a few rehearsals all concerned decided to call it quits and the notion of presenting the premiere of the Symphony was shelved.

The delay, until the end of the same year, enabled Berlioz to do some polishing, and the “Episodes in the Life of an Artist,” as the score was originally called, made its debut on December 5. It proved a huge success, contrary to what we might expect with a work so eccentric, so forward-looking – and well-publicized. Among the audience in the Great Hall of the Paris Conservatoire were Victor Hugo, Niccolò Paganini, Alexandre Dumas (père), Heinrich Heine, and Smithson. In his “Fantastic Symphony in Five Parts,” a literal translation of the composer’s final title, Berlioz tells a musical tale with himself as the central character – creating not only a mood (as in Liszt’s symphonic poems), but states of mind and precise, physical situations. Nothing like it had been attempted on this scale before. If Berlioz is to have his way, the program must be read; therefore, here follows an abbreviated version of the composer’s descriptive text: I. Reveries, Passions. The first movement is in two sections, a brief adagio followed by a long allegro. The subject is an artist gifted with a lively imagination.

The theme of the beloved [the idée fixe, an obsessively recurring theme in flutes and violins] appears in the allegro for the first time. The artist is subjected to floods of passion, tenderness, jealousy, fury, fear… II. A Ball. The hero is at a grand ball, but the tumult cannot distract him. “She” appears in oboe and flute among the whirling dancers. III. Scene in the Country. After great agitation, he finds hope and believes his feelings to be requited. In the country he hears two herdsmen play a ranz des vaches [melody played to gather the scattered cattle]. This plunges him into a delicious reverie, and we hear again the idée fixe. He is again filled with doubt. Silence. IV. March to the Scaffold. He attempts to poison himself with opium, but is instead subjected to a horrible dream: He has survived his beloved. He is to be executed and even worse, must witness his own execution. At the march’s end, she reappears – but her picture is obliterated by the final blow. V. Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath.

He finds himself at a witches’ revel, surrounded by sorcerers and monsters. The melody of his beloved, which has thus far been noble and full of grace, is transformed into a drunkard’s song: It is the beloved coming to the revels, to assist at the funeral of her victim. She is no longer anything but a courtesan, worthy of participation in such an orgy. The ceremony begins. The bells toll. A choir [brass instruments] chants the Dies irae, which is then parodied by the other [instrumental] choirs. The Dies irae mingles with the wild revelry at its height – and the vision comes to an end. Buy Online Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique Symphonie Fantastique: the symphony’s programme (1845 and 1855 versions) by Hector Berlioz [Note: between 1830 and 1855 Berlioz made a number of changes to the programme of the symphony, which is given here in the two principal versions, that of the first edition of the score in 1845, and that of 1855.

The reader will notice various differences between the two versions, chief of which is the greater importance given in the 1845 version to the programme for an understanding of the symphony.] (a) 1845 version Note The composer’s intention has been to develop various episodes in the life of an artist, in so far as they lend themselves to musical treatment. As the work cannot rely on the assistance of speech, the plan of the instrumental drama needs to be set out in advance. The following programme* must therefore be considered as the spoken text of an opera, which serves to introduce musical movements and to motivate their character and expression. *This programme should be distributed to the audience at concerts where this symphony is included, as it is indispensable for a complete understanding of the dramatic plan of the work. [HB] Part one Daydreams, passions The author imagines that a young musician, afflicted by the sickness of spirit which a famous writer has called the vagueness of passions (le vague des passions), sees for the first time a woman who unites all the charms of the ideal person his imagination was dreaming of, and falls desperately in love with her.

By a strange anomaly, the beloved image never presents itself to the artist’s mind without being associated with a musical idea, in which he recognises a certain quality of passion, but endowed with the nobility and shyness which he credits to the object of his love. This melodic image and its model keep haunting him ceaselessly like a double idée fixe. This explains the constant recurrence in all the movements of the symphony of the melody which launches the first allegro. The transitions from this state of dreamy melancholy, interrupted by occasional upsurges of aimless joy, to delirious passion, with its outbursts of fury and jealousy, its returns of tenderness, its tears, its religious consolations – all this forms the subject of the first movement. Part two A ball The artist finds himself in the most diverse situations in life, in the tumult of a festive party, in the peaceful contemplation of the beautiful sights of nature, yet everywhere, whether in town or in the countryside, the beloved image keeps haunting him and throws his spirit into confusion.

Part three Scene in the countryside One evening in the countryside he hears two shepherds in the distance dialoguing with their ‘ranz des vaches’; this pastoral duet, the setting, the gentle rustling of the trees in the wind, some causes for hope that he has recently conceived, all conspire to restore to his heart an unaccustomed feeling of calm and to give to his thoughts a happier colouring. He broods on his loneliness, and hopes that soon he will no longer be on his own… But what if she betrayed him!… This mingled hope and fear, these ideas of happiness, disturbed by dark premonitions, form the subject of the adagio. At the end one of the shepherds resumes his ‘ranz des vaches’; the other one no longer answers. Distant sound of thunder… solitude… silence… Part four March to the scaffold Convinced that his love is spurned, the artist poisons himself with opium. The dose of narcotic, while too weak to cause his death, plunges him into a heavy sleep accompanied by the strangest of visions.

He dreams that he has killed his beloved, that he is condemned, led to the scaffold and is witnessing his own execution. The procession advances to the sound of a march that is sometimes sombre and wild, and sometimes brilliant and solemn, in which a dull sound of heavy footsteps follows without transition the loudest outbursts. At the end of the march, the first four bars of the idée fixe reappear like a final thought of love interrupted by the fatal blow. Part five Dream of a witches’ sabbath He sees himself at a witches’ sabbath, in the midst of a hideous gathering of shades, sorcerers and monsters of every kind who have come together for his funeral. Strange sounds, groans, outbursts of laughter; distant shouts which seem to be answered by more shouts. The beloved melody appears once more, but has now lost its noble and shy character; it is now no more than a vulgar dance tune, trivial and grotesque: it is she who is coming to the sabbath… Roar of delight at her arrival… She joins the diabolical orgy… The funeral knell tolls, burlesque parody of the Dies irae,** the dance of the witches.

The dance of the witches combined with the Dies irae. **A hymn sung in funeral ceremonies in the Catholic Church. [HB] (b) 1855 version Note The following programme should be distributed to the audience every time the Symphonie fantastique is performed dramatically and thus followed by the monodrame of Lélio which concludes and completes the episode in the life of an artist. In this case the invisible orchestra is placed on the stage of a theatre behind the lowered curtain. If the symphony is performed on its own as a concert piece this arrangement is no longer necessary: one may even dispense with distributing the programme and keep only the title of the five movements. The author hopes that the symphony provides on its own sufficient musical interest independently of any dramatic intention. Programme of the symphony A young musician of morbid sensitivity and ardent imagination poisons himself with opium in a moment of despair caused by frustrated love. The dose of narcotic, while too weak to cause his death, plunges him into a heavy sleep accompanied by the strangest of visions, in which his experiences, feelings and memories are translated in his feverish brain into musical thoughts and images.

His beloved becomes for him a melody and like an idée fixe which he meets and hears everywhere. Part one Daydreams, passions He remembers first the uneasiness of spirit, the indefinable passion, the melancholy, the aimless joys he felt even before seeing his beloved; then the explosive love she suddenly inspired in him, his delirious anguish, his fits of jealous fury, his returns of tenderness, his religious consolations. Part two He meets again his beloved in a ball during a glittering fête. Part three Scene in the countryside One summer evening in the countryside he hears two shepherds dialoguing with their ‘Ranz des vaches’; this pastoral duet, the setting, the gentle rustling of the trees in the light wind, some causes for hope that he has recently conceived, all conspire to restore to his heart an unaccustomed feeling of calm and to give to his thoughts a happier colouring; but she reappears, he feels a pang of anguish, and painful thoughts disturb him: what if she betrayed him… One of the shepherds resumes his simple melody, the other one no longer answers.

The sun sets… distant sound of thunder… solitude… silence… Part four March to the scaffold He dreams that he has killed his beloved, that he is condemned to death and led to execution. The procession advances to the sound of a march that is sometimes sombre and wild, and sometimes brilliant and solemn, in which a dull sound of heavy footsteps follows without transition the loudest outbursts. At the end, the idée fixe reappears for a moment like a final thought of love interrupted by the fatal blow. Part five Dream of a witches’ sabbath He sees himself at a witches’ sabbath, in the midst of a hideous gathering of shades, sorcerers and monsters of every kind who have come together for his funeral. Strange sounds, groans, outbursts of laughter; distant shouts which seem to be answered by more shouts.

The beloved melody appears once more, but has now lost its noble and shy character; it is now no more than a vulgar dance-tune, trivial and grotesque: it is she who is coming to the sabbath… Roars of delight at her arrival… She joins the diabolical orgy… The funeral knell tolls, burlesque parody of the Dies Irae. The dance of the witches. The dance of the witches combined with the Dies Irae. Symphonie Fantastique: extracts from the Memoirs (chapters 4, 26, 31) Chapter 4 [...] My adolescent attempts at composition were tinged with deep melancholy. Most of my melodies were in minor keys. I was aware of this weakness but unable to avoid it. My thoughts were shrouded in the darkness where my romantic love of Meylan had confined them. In this state of mind, as I read and re-read Florian’s Estelle, I would probably have set to music sooner or later some of the numerous romances found in that insipid pastoral idyll, which at the time I found gentle. This I did not fail to do.

Among other pieces I wrote a very sad one on words which expressed my despair at leaving the woods and the places honoured by the feet, illuminated by the eyes [La Fontaine, Les deux pigeons] and the little pink boots of my cruel beauty. This colourless poetry comes back to mind today together with the spring sunshine in London [April 1848], where I am beset by major worries and a terrible anxiety, seething with concentrated fury at having to face here as elsewhere so many absurd obstacles… Here is the first stanza: Je vais donc quitter pour jamais Mon doux pays, ma douce amie, Loin d’eux je vais traîner ma vie Dans les pleurs et dans les regrets! Fleuve dont j’ai vu l’eau limpide, Pour réfléchir ses doux attraits, Suspendre sa course rapide, Je vais vous quitter pour jamais. I burnt this romance, as well as the sextet and the quintets, before my departure for Paris, but the melody came discreetly back to my mind when in 1829 I undertook to write my Fantastic Symphony .

It seemed to me to express exactly the overwhelming grief of a young heart in the first pangs of a hopeless love, and I adopted it . It is the melody sung by the first violins at the beginning of the largo in Part I of this work, which has the title: Dreams and Passions. I have not changed it in any way. [...] Chapter 26 […] Immediately after this composition on the subject of Faust [the Huit scènes de Faust], and still under the influence of Goethe’s poem, I wrote the Fantastic Symphony; some parts caused me great difficulty, but others came with incredible ease. Thus the adagio (the Scene in the countryside), which always has such an effect on the general public and on myself, exhausted me for more than three weeks; I gave it up then started it again two or three times. By contrast the March to the scaffold was written in one night. Nevertheless I made many changes to both pieces and to all the other movements of the work over a period of several years. For some time the Théâtre des Nouveautés had been playing comic operas and had a fairly good orchestra whose conductor was Bloc.

He suggested I offer my new work to the directors of the theatre and organise with them a concert to have the symphony heard in a performance. They agreed, but only because the strangeness of the programme appealed to them and they believed it would excite the curiosity of the crowds. But as I wanted the performance to be on a grand scale I invited from outside more than eighty musicians who when added to those of Bloc’s orchestra made a total of one hundred and thirty performers. Nothing had been prepared to accommodate satisfactorily such a mass of players, neither the necessary decoration, nor the scaffolding, nor even the desks. The directors replied to all my enquiries on the subject with the calmness of people who do not realise what the problems are: "Rest assured, all this will be looked after, we have a competent stage manager". But when came the day of the rehearsal and my one hundred and thirty players wanted to take their places on the stage no one knew where to put them. I tried the pit used for the small orchestra, but there was scarcely room there even for the violins. The theatre was in uproar, enough to drive mad even a calmer composer than myself.

People were calling for desks, the carpenters hurriedly tried to put together some substitute, the stage manager swore as he looked for his struts and props, there were shouts for chairs, for instruments, for candles, the double basses lacked some strings, there was no room for the timpani, etc., etc. The orchestra assistant did not know who to listen to; Bloc and I made superhuman efforts, but all to no avail. Chaos reigned and it was a complete rout, a musical Crossing of the Beresina. In the midst of this turmoil Bloc nevertheless insisted on trying out two movements, "to give the directors", as he put it, "an idea of the symphony". We rehearsed as best as we could with this chaotic orchestra the Ball and the March to the scaffold. This last piece elicited from the players frantic and vociferous applause. All the same the concert did not take place. The directors, terrified by all this hurly-burly, recoiled from the undertaking. The preparations needed were too extensive and time-consuming; they did not know that so much was needed for a symphony.

My plan was thus wrecked for want of desks and some carpentry… It is from this time that I have started to devote so much care to the practical organisation of my concerts. I know only too well what disasters can be caused by the slightest negligence in this respect. Chapter 31 […] But I did not want to leave Paris without performing in public my cantata Sardanapalus, the finale of which had been ruined at the prize distribution of the Institute. I therefore organised a concert at the Conservatoire , where this academic work was played side by side with the Fantastic Symphony which had not yet been heard [5 December 1830]. Habeneck undertook to conduct this concert for which all the players offered me their services for the third time without a fee, a kindness for which I cannot thank them too much. […] The performance was admittedly not flawless, and such complicated works cannot be played perfectly after only two rehearsals. But the overall effect was good enough to give an adequate idea of the music. Three movements of the symphony, the Ball, the March to the scaffold and the Witches’ sabbath caused a sensation. The March to the scaffold in particular took the audience by storm.

The Scene in the countryside made no impression at all. It is true that it was very different then from what it is now. I therefore decided immediately to rewrite it, and F. Hiller , who happened to be in Paris at the time, gave me excellent advice on the subject which I have tried to put to good use. […] The Story Of Hector Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique - Classic FM Classic FM Schedule The Story Of Hector Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique Why is it human nature to want what we can’t have? In 1827, the 23-year-old Hector Berlioz attended a performance of Shakespeare’s Hamlet at the Odéon Theatre in Paris; Harriet Smithson, a charismatic Irish actress, was playing Ophelia. Berlioz was smitten and wrote her an impassioned letter – Smithson did not reply. Undeterred, he continued to bombard her with messages but she left Paris without making contact. Berlioz wrote to a friend: “You don’t know what love is, whatever you may say.

For you, it’s not that rage, that fury, that delirium which takes possession of all one’s faculties, which renders one capable of anything.” The composer had to find an outlet for his obsessive love – naturally, that was music. He formed the idea of a “fantastic symphony” portraying an episode in the life of an artist who is constantly haunted by the vision of the perfect, unattainable woman. Central to the work is the "idée fixe" (“fixed idea”), a recurring theme of rising longing and falling despair – a depiction of gripping obsession and the epitome of Romanticism. Symphonie Fantastique is cast in five movements: the first a dream, the second a ball where the artist is haunted by the sight of his beloved. After a country scene, the fourth movement slips into nightmare: “Convinced that his love is spurned, the artist poisons himself with opium,” explained Berlioz. “The dose of narcotic plunges him into a heavy sleep.

He dreams that he has killed his beloved, that he is condemned, led to the scaffold and is witnessing his own execution.” Now everything descends into the thrillingly horrific Dream Of A Witches’ Sabbath, which weaves in the medieval Dies Irae plainchant. The artist’s perfect beloved transforms into a whore and is cast into Hell (symbolically, perhaps, for Smithson was rumoured to be having an affair with her manager at the time). Symphonie Fantastique was premiered in 1830 but Smithson did not hear the work until 1832, when she realised she might be the inspiration for it. Intrigued, she agreed to meet the composer and was blown away by the force of his emotion. Despite neither speaking the other’s language, Harriet and Hector married on October 3, 1833. Happy ever after? Sadly, no – the obsession faded and they divorced seven years later. So did Berlioz actually take opium or was Symphonie Fantastique the result of a fevered imagination? If he did, it’s a cautionary tale – as Bernstein put it: “Berlioz tells it like it is. Now there was an honest man.

You take a trip, you wind up screaming at your own funeral.” Did you know? A master orchestrator, Berlioz wrote a part in his Symphonie Fantastique for the bass ophicleide, a brass instrument that looks like a cross between a bassoon and saxophone, with long, cone-shaped tubing and a mouthpiece similar to a trombone’s. The word “ophicleide” in Greek literally means “serpent with keys”. These days the ophicleide is almost extinct and its line is usually played by a tuba. Berlioz Music Symphonie fantastique: Episode of an Artist | LA Phil Symphonie fantastique: Episode of an Artist Composed: 1829-1830 Length: c.

55 minutes Orchestration: 2 flutes (2nd = piccolo), 2 oboes (2nd = English horn), 2 clarinets (1st = E-flat clarinet), 4 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 2 cornets, 3 trombones, 2 tubas, percussion (2 bass drums, chime, cymbals, field drum), 2 timpani, harp, and strings First Los Angeles Philharmonic performance: December 4, 1927, Georg Schnéevoigt conducting Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique had its premiere at the Paris Conservatory on December 5, 1830, played by an orchestra hired by the composer from members of the Conservatory’s orchestra and the pit orchestra of the Théâtre des Nouveautés (where Berlioz worked as a chorister during his apprentice years), conducted by François Habeneck.

Berlioz took his inspiration from two sources: the writer François-René Chateaubriand, whose works the composer read avidly during his youth and whose autobiographical work René describes an artist precisely in the state in which the hero of the Symphonie fantastique finds himself, and the actress Harriet Smithson, for whom Berlioz had developed an obsessive, all-consuming love since seeing her in Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet at the Odéon in 1827. Thus, the artist tormented by unrequited love in the symphony can be seen to be Berlioz himself. Berlioz provided the following note on the program to the audience at the first performance in 1830: The composer’s intention has been to treat various states in the life of an artist, insofar as they have musical quality. Since this instrumental drama lacks the assistance of words, an advance explanation of its plan is necessary. The following program, therefore, should be thought of as if it were the spoken text of an opera, serving to introduce the musical movements and to explain their character and expression.

Daydreams, Passions: The composer imagines that a young musician, troubled by that spiritual sickness which a famous writer has called le vague des passions (intimations of passion), sees for the first time a woman who possesses all the charms of the ideal being he has dreamed of, and falls desperately in love with her. By some strange trick of fancy, the beloved vision never appears to the artist’s mind except in association with a musical idea, in which he perceives the same character – impassioned, yet refined and diffident that he attributes to the object of his love. This melodic image and its model pursue him unceasingly like a double idée fixe. That is why the tune at the beginning of the first allegro constantly recurs in every movement of the symphony. The transition from a state of dreamy melancholy, interrupted by several fits of aimless joy, to one of delirious passion, with its impulses of rage and jealousy, its returning moments of tenderness, its tears, and its religious solace, is the subject of the first movement.

A Ball: The artist is placed in the most varied circumstances: amid the hubbub of a carnival; in peaceful contemplation of the beauty of nature – but everywhere, in town, in the meadows, the beloved vision appears before him, bringing trouble to his soul. Scene in the Country: One evening in the country, he hears in the distance two shepherds playing a ranz de vaches; this pastoral duet, the effect of his surroundings, the slight rustle of the trees gently stirred by the wind, certain feelings of hope which he has been recently entertaining – all combine to bring an unfamiliar peace to his heart, and a more cheerful color to his thoughts. He thinks of his loneliness; he hopes soon to be alone no longer… But suppose she deceives him!... This mixture of hope and fear, these thoughts of happiness disturbed by dark forebodings, form the subject of the adagio. At the end, one of the shepherds again takes up the ranz de vaches; the other no longer answers... Sounds of distant thunder... solitude... silence. March to the Scaffold: The artist, now knowing beyond all doubt that his love is not returned, poisons himself with opium.

The dose of the narcotic, too weak to take his life, plunges him into a sleep accompanied by the most horrible visions. He dreams that he has killed the woman he loved, and that he is condemned to death, brought to the scaffold, and witnesses his own execution. The procession is accompanied by a march that is sometimes fierce and somber, sometimes stately and brilliant: Loud crashes are followed abruptly by the dull thud of heavy footfalls. At the end of the march, the first four bars of the idée fixe recur like a last thought of love interrupted by the fatal stroke. Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath: He sees himself at the witches’ sabbath, in the midst of a ghastly crowd of spirits, sorcerers, and monsters of every kind, assembled for his funeral. Strange noises, groans, bursts of laughter, far-off shouts to which other shouts seem to reply. The beloved tune appears once more, but it has lost its character of refinement and diffidence; it has become nothing but a common dance tune, trivial and grotesque; it is she who has come to the sabbath... A roar of joy greets her arrival... She mingles with the devilish orgy...

Funeral knell, ludicrous parody of the Dies irae, sabbath dance. The sabbath dance and the Dies irae in combination.

Question: Who composed the 1830 work `Symphonie Fantastique'?
Answer: Hector Berlioz