Our pick of the 15 greatest openings in classical music. Do you agree with our choices?
The 15 greatest openings in classical music...
It was the Olympic sprinter Linford Christie who once said that, if you want to win a race, you have to be out of the blocks ‘by the “B” of “Bang”’. Similarly, it doesn’t hurt for composers to grab the attention with the very first note, locking in the listener from the start. Doing so, however, is something of an art.
In many instances, the first few bars of a piece have enjoyed a level of fame – a cult status, even – that, alas, the rest of the work has failed to match. Others, in contrast, herald masterpieces that have proved very popular in their entirety. Examples of both feature in our selection of 15 of the most memorable openings in classical music, though whittling down the list caused plenty of argument in the BBC Music office. We are sure readers will also beg to differ. If so, do tell us…
Beethoven Symphony No. 5
‘Da da da DUM. Da da da DUM.’ Is there any more instantly recognisable opening in the whole of classical music? Often likened to the sound of fate knocking at the door, the urgent eight-note opening gambit of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony grabs the listener by the scruff of the neck – and goes on to drive the whole of the opening movement forward. All four of the Fifth’s movements are wondrous in their different ways, but the work owes its status as ‘that bit of classical everyone knows’ to its opening movement – and, in particular, to that implacable eight-note starting gun.
Greatest openings... Orff Carmina Burana
Bom! ‘O Fortuna.’ Bom! ‘Velut Luna.’ Bom! ‘Statu variabilis…!’ With this series of timpani thwacks and belted-out chorus, Carl Orff launched his 1936 cantata Carmina Burana, instantly making his mark on the musical world. Just a few bars on, that same opening ‘O Fortuna’ movement would also provide the thrilling soundtrack to the 1970s Old Spice adverts (big wave plus surfer) and films including 1981’s Excalibur (shining knights on horseback), but the rest of the cantata – or, in fact, Orff’s music in general – doesn’t get much of a look in. Still, it’s a great moment, plus you get to hear it again at the very end of the piece.
Debussy Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune
A piece doesn’t have to come in all guns blazing to make an impact. Take Debussy's mesmeric 1894 orchestral poem Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune. A solo flute plays a long C sharp, then ambles down chromatically to a G natural, back up to the C sharp, then back down again. Our faun appears in no hurry to get anywhere, as remains the case in the rest of the ten-minute work, whose meandering, seemingly free-form style was like nothing heard before. After briefly lingering on a higher G, the flute hands over to a languorous horn, plus rippling harp. In just four bars, Debussy has lured us magically into his sensuous, seductive world.
Greatest openings... Holst The Planets
Quite the opposite of Debussy’s Prélude is the first movement of Holst’s The Planets suite – ‘Mars, the Bringer of War’ knows exactly in which direction it is going. ‘Bringer’ is the operative word, as Holst doesn’t plunge us directly into bloody conflict but hints at its inevitability in the most sinister way – as timpani and strings (using the back of the bow) stab out a persistent, jagged rhythm, bassoons and horns sound an ominous warning call based on the tritone, otherwise known as the ‘Devil’s interval’. It may begin piano, but louder, more brutal things lie ahead.
Elgar Cello Concerto
Written in 1914, Holst’s ‘Mars’ nervously anticipates World War I; at the other end of the conflict, Elgar’s Cello Concerto of 1919 wistfully remembers times past and friends lost. The cello soloist’s unaccompanied opening chords give an immediate sense of anguish, but it is the gorgeous, haunting melody that follows – hinted at by both cellist and then orchestra before being revealed in its full nobility – that so masterfully captures the time and place in which it was written. From films to spring water adverts, that particular passage has become familiar to millions, leaving the rest of Elgar’s fine concerto trailing mournfully in its wake.
Greatest openings... Richard Strauss Also sprach Zarathustra
We begin with a mysterious, expectant drone from double bass, contrabassoon and organ. Next comes a majestic, up-surging trumpet motif, symbolising both the rising sun and the upstretched hand of human endeavour. The full orchestra swells dramatically, all thundering timpani rolls and crashing cymbals. Yes, it’s hard to match the sense of sheer awe and potential that ushers in Richard Strauss’s tone poem Also sprach Zarathustra. Its most iconic use was in Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey, where it served as a potent symbol of human evolution and cosmic mystery.
Sibelius Violin Concerto
Among the great Romantic violin concertos, a grand orchestral opening is usually the done thing (think of Brahms or Tchaikovsky, for example). Not so Sibelius’s Violin Concerto. Here, the orchestra begins with muted tremolo strings, softly shimmering like a Nordic landscape at dawn. Somewhat tentatively, the violin enters alone with a haunting, brooding theme. As this melody unfolds, it gains in intensity and urgency, while the orchestra remains understated. A masterclass in austere beauty.
Greatest openings... Mozart Eine kleine Nachtmusik
Sometimes, the most effective way to begin a piece is with a simple, memorable tune. And in the case of Mozart’s 1787 ‘night music’ for chamber ensemble, that opening ‘Tum-ti-tum, ti-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum’ is, indeed, simplicity itself. It has become a tune that everybody seems to know but, above all the works on this list, we’d venture that it is also the one that most people can readily hum… without being able to name it.
Mussorgsky Pictures at an Exhibition
For a generation of UK TV viewers, the opening of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition will forever conjure images of a Brylcreemed, pinstripe-suited Rik Mayall. To the strains of the opening Promenade, Mayall glowered out from our late-1980s screens as Alan B’Stard, grubbily ambitious MP and (anti-)hero of the sitcom The New Statesman. Cue musical immortality for Pictures – although in truth, Mussorgsky’s grand, evocative suite deserves to be loved entirely on its own terms.
Greatest openings... Rachmaninov Piano Concerto No. 2
Once upon a time, concertos conventionally used to begin with an orchestral introduction followed by the soloist joining in some time later. Lovely, but a little restrictive, and the breaking of that convention in the Romantic era freed up composers to explore all manner of inventive ways to set things in motion. In Rachmaninov's Second Piano Concerto, that means a series of solo piano chords, each anchored to a bottom F but with their central notes shifting upwards and each getting a little louder than the last. Over eight chords, we move from pianissimo to fortissimo, and the first great concerto masterpiece of the 20th century is on its way…
Grieg Piano Concerto
The piano isn’t the first instrument to be heard in Grieg’s famous 1868 concerto – that honour falls to the timpanist, who opens with a brief rumble before the soloist, accompanied by a single note from the rest of the orchestra, crashes in with a big A minor chord and subsequent cascade down the keyboard. In live performance, this opening can prove something of a spectator sport – as the conductor raises the baton, most pianists sensibly have their hands poised in advance above the right notes, but a daring few lift them only at the last moment, adding a certain frisson of excitement that they might miss their target. They never do, of course.
Greatest openings... Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 1
The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra chose wisely in selecting the opening of Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto to begin Hooked On Classics, 1981’s improbably successful mash-up of classical staples and disco beats. As a statement of intent, it’s hard to beat the start of this great concerto: the French horn’s descending four-note motif is an urgent call to arms, further fuelled by a striking chord from the strings. Seconds later, the piano enters with a series of massive, rolling chords. The mood is heroic, monumental: Russian Romanticism at its most grandly expressive.Strong choice, Royal Phil.
Stravinsky The Rite of Spring
How can something composed more than a century ago still manage to sound so unsettling every single time? Even if one didn’t know the violence of the music that lies ahead or was entirely unaware of the gruesome scenario that is set to be played out over the course of Stravsinky's groundbreaking 1913 ballet, The Rite of Spring – a sacrificial victim dancing herself to death – that high, uncomfortably exposed bassoon solo would still be guaranteed to send a shiver down the spine. It is unerringly creepy, but therein lay the genius of the young Stravinsky.
Greatest openings... JS Bach Toccata and Fugue in D minor
Now onto the most instantly recognised work in the whole of the organ repertoire. Or, more to the point, the most instantly recognised first few bars. By the time Walt Disney chose Bach’s dramatic opener for use in his Fantasia in 1940, it had already made appearances in various horror movies, and has remained the default go-to for depicting all things dark and Gothic ever since. Above all, it’s that first big chord rising from a bottom D in the pedals that conjures up images of danger lurking in the shadows and coffin lids opening. The Toccata is, in fact, fairly easy to play – so, simply find a big instrument, and you too can scare the bejeezus out of everyone.
Beethoven ‘Moonlight’ Sonata
Haunting and introspective, the Adagio sostenuto opening of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 14, ‘Moonlight’ uses a hypnotic triplet rhythm in the right hand to introduce a shadowy, dreamlike atmosphere. Then comes a solemn, chorale-like melody, full of quiet melancholy. The dynamic remains hushed throughout, as if the music is meant to be heard in solitude, and the movement’s uniquely confiding atmosphere has made it a favourite whenever a sense of probing introspection is required. Films including The Pianist, Misery and Interview with the Vampire have harnessed its quiet mystery, while The Beatles drew on those arpeggiated triplets for Abbey Road’s ‘Because’.