Haydn's Symphonies Vol. 7 No. 6 Le Matin, No. 7 Le Midi, No. 8 Le Soir – A Wild Ride Through Time
Alright, let’s cut to the chase. This album from 1994 is not your run-of-the-mill classical snooze fest. Nope. Joseph Haydn was a genius who could write music that feels like it’s alive—kicking, screaming, and breathing fire—and this collection of symphonies proves it. With Nicholas Ward at the helm of the Northern Chamber Orchestra, you get precision without losing that raw edge. It’s tight but still human, which is rare in recordings these days.
First up, Symphony No. 6 in D Major “Le Matin”. The opening track hits hard with its Recitativo: Adagio - Allegro - Adagio section. You know how some pieces just feel like they’re dragging their feet? Not this one. It grabs you by the collar and says, "Hey, wake up!" There’s an energy here that makes you sit straighter, even if you're half-asleep on your couch. Then comes the Menuetto—a little dance number that sneaks up on you. It’s playful yet sharp, like someone poking fun at you while keeping perfect posture. That mix of elegance and wit sticks with me every time I hear it.
Now, onto Symphony No. 8 in G Major “Le Soir.” Oh man, this thing slaps. The second movement, La Tempesta: Presto, is where things really explode. Imagine being caught in a storm—not the boring drizzle kind, but the full-on lightning-cracking-open-the-sky type. That’s what this track does to your brain. It’s chaotic, yes, but controlled chaos. Every note feels intentional, like Haydn knew exactly how far he could push before everything fell apart. Spoiler alert: He doesn’t fall apart. Instead, he leaves you gasping for air.
The production quality deserves props too. Engineer Harold Barnes didn’t phone it in; the sound is crisp as hell. And those liner notes by Keith Anderson? They’re solid background info without drowning you in jargon. Producer John Taylor clearly had his act together because this isn’t just another dusty reissue—it’s vibrant, alive, and begging to be heard.
So why am I yammering about two tracks instead of all three symphonies? Because honestly, sometimes less is more. These moments hit so damn hard they overshadow the rest. Don’t get me wrong, “Le Midi” has its charm, but it doesn’t punch quite as hard as “Le Matin” or “Le Soir.”
Here’s the kicker though: Listening to this album made me realize something weird. Classical music isn’t dead. People think it’s all wigs and powdered faces, but no—it’s gutsy, daring, and unpredictable. Haydn wasn’t writing lullabies; he was crafting emotional rollercoasters. And guess what? We’re lucky we can still ride them today.
Final thought: If you hate modern music’s soullessness, grab this album. It’ll remind you what real passion sounds like. Or maybe it won’t. Maybe you’ll hate it. Either way, at least you’ll have strong feelings, and ain’t that better than nothing?
