Friends Reunited

"Storace gave a quartet party to his friends. The players were tolerable; not one of them excelled on the instrument he played, but there was a little science among them, which I dare say will be acknowledged when I name them:

    First Violin: Haydn

    Second Violin: Baron Dittersdorf

    Violoncello: Vanhal

    Viola: Mozart.

I was there, and a greater treat, or a more remarkable one, cannot be imagined."

So reminisced the Irish actor and singer, Michael Kelly. His image of four of the most famous composers of the late 18th Century playing string quartets together (not perfectly!) is one of the most engaging in music. 

I thought it might be fun to present you with a concert of string quartets by all four of these composers. 

Let's start with the first violinist, Haydn, and his String Quartet in D major, Op.20/4 - one of the Sun Quartets. Its beautiful opening theme is, if I may use an extended simile, rather like a busy quarry, with the composer continuing to dig away at it and carry its material to construction sites across the opening Allegro. The most obvious elements of this theme are the repeating note figure (always four in number, the last longer than the preceding three notes) and a little turning figure. The former in particular plays a major role, underpinning and driving the action in passage after passage. Haydn doesn't overpower us with it however, and its presence can be discreet at times. Drama, lyricism and occasional flashes of brilliance are the hallmarks of this first-rate movement. The development section is especially fiery at times and contains a classic Haydn false reprise. The following Adagio is a theme and variations in D minor on a long, grave melody. The first variation syncopates the tune, the second gives the cello an opportunity to sing expressively, the third allows some elaborate violin figuration to decorate its bare bones while the fourth re-sings the grave melody much as before though with an intensified climax of considerable power that flows into a lovely coda. The Minuet is marked 'alla zingarese' ('in gypsy style') and is spry, folk-like, full of cross rhythms and utterly delightful. The cello decorates the trio section's simple dance tune in a way that doesn't sound very simple to play! This excellent quartet ends with an entertaining Finale marked 'Presto e scherzando', which continues the Minuet's gypsy-style brilliance and folk-like material but places them in a sonata-form structure and gives them extra vim. It may have a sense of driving purpose at times but it's essentially light-hearted, giddy even.

Let's now hear from the second violinist, Baron Carl Ditters von Ditters von Dittersdorf...erm, no...make that Baron Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf. (I got carried away). His string quartets are, unlike Haydn's and (most of) Mozart's, in just three movements. I've chosen the String Quartet No.2 in B flat major. The opening Moderato, especially if heard immediately after the wonderful Haydn work, makes it very clear from the start that the level of mastery, inspiration and genius has dropped considerably since the preceding piece. Dittersdorf, after all, is no Haydn. We already knew that though, didn't we? And once we accept that his tunes are necessarily going to be blander, his transitions more pedestrian and over-reliant on sequences, his working-out less intellectually satisfying and his harmonic architecture less purposeful, we can sit back in our chairs and enjoy the easy-going flow of the baron's agreeable music. (Unfair comparisons can be so invidious - says he, having just made one!) A relaxed and charming Andante follows (my favourite movement) and there's a leisurely and charming theme and variations Finale to follow. 

After the audience have finished chatting to each other about how nice that piece by the baron was, the players reconvene and are about to perform a quartet by their cellist - the Bohemian composer Johann Baptist Vanhal. We're lifting the tonality here, as it's his String Quartet No.2 in F major that we're about to hear. Now this is also a leap back up the ladder of inspiration. The opening Allegro has purpose, makes some unexpected harmonic moves and has attractive themes (with a flavour of folk music to the continuation of the main subject). The connoisseurs in the audience have pricked there ears up by this stage. "By the Emperor, this is jolly good!", they think. And they're right. They are also pleased at the following Andante, with its intriguing first violin melody (lots of plunges by a tenth - though they are artfully concealed) and its unhurried character, though this is lighter stuff. The concluding Presto is a lively sonata form movement, with a strong dip into the minor during the development section. Vanhal earns an appreciate round of applause for himself here. Yes, he's no Haydn either, but he's a fine composer nonetheless.

Now it's time for our final work in the concert and it's by our violist Mozart. We returning tonally to where we began with the String Quartet in D major, K499 (nicknamed the 'Hoffmeister' after Baywatch legend David Hasselhoff...er...after a friend called Hoffmeister). This is an immensely likeable piece. It may not touch the emotional depths that some of his quartets do (that's for sure!), but its optimism and sheer craftsmanship more than make up for that. The opening Allegretto is deliciously tuneful, with more than a flavour of folk music about the main tune and an equally glorious (though more urbane) second subject. What sets this movement apart is the way the folk-like main theme is worked in the development - urgent thematic and harmonic working that owes much to the example of Haydn. The tip-back into the recapitulation is masterful. It's my favourite movement. The swinging Minuet has a courtly air, with a winning main melody and nothing of the countryside about it. The trio section, with its busy triplets, strikes a bright and lively note. The canonic exchanges in each section add a degree of classical chamber music depth. The Adagio isn't one of those succulent pro-Romantic ones which send Mozart-lovers swooning but a cooler, more Haydn-like affair. The violin sings it like an elaborate aria. The closing pages are especially lovely. The final Rondo has something of the light-hearted numbers from The Magic Flute about it (not that the opera was yet written at the time of the Hoffmeister) and gives this genial quartet a particularly cheerful ending. I must tell you that the cognoscenti (of our day) don't seem to rank the piece as highly as the quartets which precede it (the 'Haydn Quartets'). The work's relative simplicity appears to put them off.

As the audience mingled afterwards, out of ear-shot of the four performers, everyone agreed how delightful the concert had been. As often happens the conversation then turned to the relative qualities of the pieces we'd heard and to which composer the laurels should be awarded. In a loud (some might say deafening) voice I stepped forward and declared the winner to be Haydn. Obviously. Others disagreed and a ridiculously heated argument ensued, more suited to the modern internet than a Viennese salon. A Dittersdorf supporter actually threatened to block or even ban a Vanhal enthusiast from saying another word after the latter called him 'a troll', saying he'd find out his IP number. As this was 1785, no one had a clue what either of them were talking about. As, hopefully, neither will you.

I want my ninth symphony to be like this!

Playing through the slow movement of a particular symphony ("with wallowing enthusiasm") Brahms said, "I want my ninth symphony to be like this!" 

The same movement of the same symphony was described in Cosima Wagner's diaries, reflecting her husband's feelings, as "one of the loveliest things ever written; and how wonderful it sounds!"

What slow movement united Wagner and Brahms in enthusiasm? The slow movement from Haydn's Symphony No.88 in G major.

I have a fond memory of this symphony myself. As a late teenager unfamiliar with much classical music I heard it on the radio while doing by filial duties and washing up after Christmas dinner and was bowled over by the whole piece. It remains a favourite Haydn symphony to this day.

It begins with an attention-grabbing slow introduction full of pregnant pauses that alternates short staccato phrases with softer ones. 

The exuberant main allegro is largely monothematic, with the second subject being a variant of the first. Most of the subsidiary themes also grow out of the main theme. The development section contains a lot of energetic counterpoint and the whole movement has a symphonic sweep that keeps the attention firmly fixed. 

That peaceful largo slow movement begins by sharing its beautiful theme between solo oboe and cello but is soon repeated with a richer accompaniment and the addition of a countermelody from the first violins. 

A later repetition of the tune is even more richly scored with first violins and flute getting the melody before returning it to the cello and oboe. As you will hear, the tune barely changes yet Haydn so artfully changes the accompanying figures that the attention never flags. There are some surprises in this movement too!

The Minuet is a breath of boisterous country air, making hay with its opening five-note figure. It also features a peasant-style trio complete with open fifths - and, most unusually, parallel fourths - played (bagpipe-style) by violas and bassoon. It is one of the composer's most delightful movements.

The finale returns to the exuberant spirit of the opening movement and is also dominated by its main theme. Again tunefulness meets counterpoint as Haydn sends his theme through a dramatic development section featuring learned canons before the movement wittily shrinks down to two notes...all the better to keep you guessing as to when the recapitulation is actually going to be begin.

If you don't know it I hope it will bowl you over too.

41 Reasons to like Haydn

If I were to nominate one great composer for the title of 'Most Underestimated Composer' of all time it would be Haydn. As a small piece of proof for such a bold statement I offer a symphony with no special number and no helpful nickname. It's a work that few music lovers know despite being a loveable masterpiece. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Haydn's Symphony No.41 in C major. 

This sort of Haydn symphony - being in C and featuring trumpets and drums - is often called 'festive'. That word certainly captures its spirit!

The opening Allegro con spirito begins with a firm chord that strongly asserts the home key of C major. This chord provides the first note of the main theme. The horns continue to assert the home key (like a drone) as the gentle phrases of the genial main theme are presented - phrase by phrase - by the strings, dipping into the dominant and back again. More assertive chords then engage in dialogue with the oboes as the horns continue to play long, sustaining notes below - both chords and oboes taking their part in the unfolding of the theme. Trumpets and drums then blaze in to back the strings and expand the theme with (arpeggio-based) fanfares and (short scale-based) flourishes ending on the dominant. A short pause ensues and then we begin again in the home key, but this time with fresh colours in the assertive chords and the oboes joining with the horns in sustaining the gentler phrases of the theme. The passage where the theme was expanded first time round is re-imagined with the strings taking the lead and playing in an agitated tremolando manner (relegating the trumpets to providing a supporting role) as they begin to make a determined bid to change the key to G major (the dominant key), which they bolster by running up and down scales over two alternating harmonies before settling on and emphasising G major. A chattering, lightly-textured new theme (based falling scale fragments on strings, with punctuating harmonies from the trumpets and horns) further consolidates this key before the lyrical, lilting but rhythmically flexible second subject (strings only) enters. The trumpets and drums then return for the short, brilliant (and loud) exposition closing theme, jubilantly in G major...and this is all just the first one and half minutes of the symphony! I hope that description captures the unerring, exciting way Haydn handles tonality, plus the way he uses orchestral colour not only for pleasing textural variety but also to help clarity his themes and his musical argument. What I haven't yet mentioned is Haydn's ingenuity when it comes to rhythm. This movement begins in 3/4 time, but try counting in that rhythm and see how soon the 3/4 time beat becomes separated from the theme - hence, a 'flexible' theme. All these subtleties  are captured by the listener only half-consciously. The development section is full of drama and surprises - none of which I will spoil by describing before you discover them for yourself. There's a further dramatic surprise in the recapitulation - one that is sure to jolt you out of your expectations - which I also won't spoil for you. Note though how the oboes join the strings in playing the subject subject here. Even at this late stage in the movement new things are refreshing the parts others symphonists cannot reach. Originality, thy name is Haydn!

There's a newcomer to the symphony in the second movement Andante. The strings set out with the tune in a two-part texture with other strings. Then the newcomer - a flute - enters and the textures grow warmer and richer. This is the only movement of the symphony the flute appears in. Here it largely plays an accompanying role, but an accompanying role that stands out delightfully. The oboe sings an expressive melody before the flute completes it charmingly, innocently, to a light string accompaniment.  The strings alone then gently slither along before the flute returns to bring the exposition to a warm close. There is a short development section where the slithering figure runs through a fascinating harmonic excursion based on the main theme. The strings have this section largely to themselves. This is such a melodically attractive movement which, with all those delightful touches of orchestral colour, makes it such a pleasure to hear. Isn't it wonderful?

The Minuet brings back the trumpet and drums and is one of Haydn's tuneful aristocratic dances. The trio section is especially charming though, with its use of solo violin and horns to sing the folk dance-like tune. Such inspirations are what make Haydn minuets such irresistible creations. 

The Finale is a presto electrically charged by repeating notes and rapid scale figures. Trumpets and drums add their festive energy to the tremendous surge of momentum that this short but exciting movement generates. The movement is in sonata form and the development section continues the processes found at play in the exposition, spinning them through new keys, until the recapitulation begins. The final build-up to the close is pure joy. This is a fabulous movement to end one of Haydn's many, many great symphonies. 

My God, I hope you like it as much as I do after all that!

Passionate Haydn

Haydn's Symphony No.49 in F minor has the nickname La passione ('The Passion') and was possibly composed for a Good Friday service, so it will do nicely as the next subject for a Good Friday post! 

It's an intriguing, serious piece composed in the old slow-fast-slow-fast form known as 'sinfonia da chiesa' (church sinfonia) and engages aspects of the old Baroque manner whilst also wedding them to the new 'storm and stress' style. Unusually, each of its four movements is in the home key of F minor.

The opening Adagio seemingly evokes Christ's carrying of the cross. It moves at a measured pace, its grave string lines trudging with dignity, outlining a simple theme (soon slightly elaborated). The first notes of this theme are key actors in all four of the symphony's movements, as each of their main themes grow out of it. Drooping phrases follow, the plaintive interval of a falling second (generally a minor second) prominent throughout. More urgent material, based on arpeggios, throbs like a running sore from time to time. The movement is in sonata form, its development section initially content to re-state the main theme in A major. 

After this tragic movement, the second-placed Allegro (also in sonata form) seems to express the anger of all Christians at the treatment of their saviour. It's a 'storm and stress' movement with a main theme made from a running bass and a leaping upper violin line. It is sometimes urgently syncopated and has a brief second subject whose grave contrapuntal flowering reminds us of 'the old style' again before giving way to new themes full of protest and energy. The development section jostles on before the brief contrapuntal flowering returns to take us towards an angry climax and a wind-down towards the pouncing recapitulation.

The Minuet is spacious but grave, with echoes of the preceding movement's running bass in its own bass line and leaping figures making their reappearance as the section proceeds. Its Trio section changes the key to F major and allows the oboes and horns to lead us in a pleasing country dance.

The Presto finale , a short sonata form movement, returns us to the stormy and stressful spirit of the second movement. Its string writing crackles with anguished energy, the main theme featuring more wide leaps and being cast over a slow-moving bass line. 

There's far more to Haydn than jokes and surprises.

Haydn in wait, ready to leap out

Almost every symphony by Haydn is a 'surprise symphony'. Even his earliest symphonies play tricks with our expectations. 

Take his Symphony No.15 in D major, written pre-1761 (before he went to work for the Esterházy family). The first movement takes an unusual form. You are sailing along on a delightful, relaxed texture consisting of a long and graceful tune for the violins placed over a pizzicato accompaniment, with a pair of horns adding the occasional comment. The serenade-like effect is enchanting, especially when the horns take over the tune against a high held note from the violins. Then suddenly you are surprised by an abrupt switch to the minor. The surprise is quite a mild one as genial movements in the major do sometimes make such moves to the minor. However, there's then a pause...and then a presto section (in sonata form) bursts in, hurtling around with manic energy. This section introduces the woodwinds, who have hitherto been silent witnesses. That was pretty surprising but, again, Haydn symphonies are known for sometimes having slow introductions (though not at this early stage in his career) so, yes, it's not that surprising I suppose. But what's this? The presto itself suddenly stops and the serenade-like music of the opening returns again, as if nothing had interrupted its easy-going flow. That 'shouldn't happen' in a Haydn symphony! Haydn seems here to be reverting to the old form of a 'French overture', where the slower opening music returns after a contrasting fast section. 

Symphony No. 15 is a gem and this splendid, unusual opening movement is followed by a swinging Minuet with one of Haydn's catchiest tunes. All the sections of the orchestra join in the dance here. The contrasting Trio section, however, uses the strings only, setting the upper ones in a gentle and utterly charming dialogue with the lower ones. 

The Andante third movement is the other section of the symphony where the strings sing alone. The song they sing is a lyrical one which I find particularly lovely. The tune has a catchy hook around which the flow of melody is hung and there are some sweet suspensions to savour too. 

The short closing Presto is a spirited affair but, in another surprising move, it encloses a muted episode which sets a syncopated dance over a perpetual motion accompaniment. 

(It was about time the patron saint of this blog got another look-in!)

Another Hooray for Haydn

Here's a blog-post title from Jessica Duchen that was bound to get my attention!: Hooray for Haydn. Reviewing Backtrack's annual performance statistics, she was especially pleased that Haydn was ranked as the eighth most performed composer of 2011, a placing consistent with previous years:

It often seems to me that this great-hearted, pure-spirited and tirelessly original composer tends to get short shrift from the concert-going public, compared to his friend Mozart and his pupil Beethoven. But perhaps that isn't the case after all: quietly and decisively, 'Papa Haydn' is getting his just desserts after all, and they may contain chocolate. 

Hooray, indeed!

Jessica links to a piano piece by the great man, and so shall I. It's the Piano Sonata in F, Hob.29 (Sonata No.44).

The opening 'Moderato' is one of those Haydn movements - and there are many of them - which makes you thrill to a new discovery. It's a tray of goodies, full of organised fantasy, from the first theme in the manner of a Turkish march (with all its thirds) to the delightful concoction of arpeggiated flourishes and rhythmically-surprising falling-scale-based figures that constitutes the second subject. Then there's the strange transition passage with its accelerating repeated note, plus much more besides. All the main ingredients are given a thorough stirring in the wonderful development section, journeying through various keys, including minor keys, and being furthered dramatised by the use of silence. Particularly fun here is the passage where a tiny phrase is repeated first in the major then in the minor, over and over again, somewhat in the manner of folksong. The recapitulation continues this stirring process. This is my favourite movement, but its companions are fine affairs too. The beautiful central 'Adagio' is an elaborate,  Classically-balanced movement full of pensive feeling and Baroque-style ornamentation, written in the style of an operatic aria. The final 'Tempo di Minuetto' mixes minuet and variation form, including a syncopated minor-key trio section, and makes for a pleasant conclusion. 

First Things First

"Why K.16 should ever be performed is incomprehensible," wrote the once-influential critic and refugee from Nazism, Hans Keller (above) about Mozart's first symphony (in E flat major). He thought it was completely worthless.

Following on from the point I was making at the end of my last post, this cliché-ridden first effort at symphonic form gets a heck of a lot of airings - prime-time limelight that could be better spent introducing us to the most interesting symphonic works of all those many, barely-known contemporaries of the Big Classical Three (my hero Haydn, Young Wolfie & ol' Ludwig). Yes, instead of BBC Radio 3 broadcasting Mozart's Symphony No.1 for the umpteenth time this year (and, boy, they certainly do broadcast it a lot), let's hear something more from, say, 'The Spanish Mozart' Arriaga or 'The Polish Mozart' Joseph Zeidler - or Clementi, Krommer, Pleyel, one of the Stamitzes, Gossec, Pichl, Gyrowetz, Kozeluch...er..Salieri, Wranitzky, the discoverer of Uranus Herschel, Myslivecek...and so on and so forth (as Melvyn Bragg would say).

All that said...and ignoring all those worthies...Mozart's First Symphony is a piece by an eight-year old (AN EIGHT-YEAR OLD!) who (several years later) was set to become a genius - and, for all its clichés, it's quite fun to listen to. Switch off your critical faculties, Hans, and enjoy the ride! The first movement begins with a fanfare figure answered by quiet, harmonically-shifting chords - its main theme. The second subject group is, if it makes sense to talk in this way, 'prophetic' in being a bundle of themes. The minor-key Andante potters around various harmonies without remembering to give us a tune, yet its simplicity doesn't lack listener appeal. The presto Finale has perhaps the most going for it melodically.

Now, my man Haydn's First Symphony, though aired much less often, is far superior to Mozart's - though, in fairness to Wolfgang, Joseph was 17 when he wrote it (nine years older than this young later-to-be friend). The opening Presto is in two-part (binary) form and packs its exposition with themes, starting with a rocketing main theme (p<f dynamically) across all the notes of two octaves which climaxes in horn-led fanfares. A spry melody follows, then a sparkling transition takes us to the dancing, harmonically-airborne second subject and various closing themes. This is not remotely 'prophetic' of Haydn's later tendency towards monothematicism (the use of just one theme to fill a movement). The development section is, by Haydn's standards, basic, steering various patterns into various sequences. Now, it's not great Haydn but my hunch is that it's probably as good (if not better?) than any other symphony composed in the 1750s. The following slow movement is scored for strings alone, is simple but pleasing, somewhat formal in the manner of an old, genteel dance and led by melody. Note the rhythmic surprise near the beginning of the second half and the subsequent dip into the minor. The Presto Finale comes closest to the Haydn of the future with a good tune for the strings, emboldened by the horns, and containing quacking figures (ah, Haydn's hens!), though the development section is tiny.

I won't bring up Beethoven's First Symphony (oh, I just have!), as that's a masterpiece by any standards and, thus, a very different kettle of pilchards from these two below-par efforts.