The World of The String Quartet: 2. The Founders: Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven
The World of The String Quartet: 2. The Founders: Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven
Greetings. I'm Arnold Steinhardt, and I'd like to welcome you once again to The World of the
String Quartet, and to Program Number Two, "The Founders."
Every aspiring music student learns in school that the classical period of Western music,
sandwiched between the Baroque period preceding it and the Romantic period that followed, took
place approximately between 1730 and 1820. It sounds so terribly orderly, doesn't it--all musicians
composing in one style and then by mutual consent switching on cue to another? But in fact, it was
not quite so cut-and-dried. The general style of each period gradually gave way to the next, and in
each there was inevitable variety. Still, in the 18th century, people began to gravitate towards a new
style of architecture, literature and the arts, called "classicism", that drew on the ideals of classical
antiquity. In the realm of music, compositional styles became more orderly, lighter and clearer.
Variety and contrast were emphasized, and greater importance was given to instrumental music.
This environment gave birth to the string quartet, and Joseph Haydn became the first significant
composer in this genre. Anyone acquainted with Baroque era music who sat down to play string
quartets by Haydn, Mozart, or Beethoven, three of the most distinguished composers of the
classical era, needed no textbook to realize that music had changed. The hallmarks of this new
order were greater variety in keys, melodies, dynamics and rhythms used, as well as an emphasis on
dramatic effects, sudden changes of mood, harmonic innovation, and even outright humor. In
addition, important material was more democratically spread among the four voices rather than
resting solely with the first violin.
One has to assume that the genius of these composers would have been accepted at anytime in
musical history but they seem to have thrived artistically in this environment. In Beethoven's case,
he evolved in a way that was at least partly responsible for ushering in the next significant musical
era, the Romantic, but that's a subject we will explore at another time.
Learning Library
Terms like sonata form, rondo, theme and variations, minuet and trio and sonata-rondo occur
frequently in the “Story” and “Nuts and Bolts” segments of the program, so I thought it would be
helpful to review what these terms mean.
I’ll begin with “sonata” form or “sonata-allergo” form which means the same thing. This is the
king of all large forms in instrumental music between the middle of the 18th century to the 20th
century. Before I jump in, I want to make it clear that the words “sonata form” require
clarification. Classical composers, particularly Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, didn’t write music
according to a formula or recipe. Rather, they followed their intuitive sense of balance and
symmetry, the hallmarks of the classical era. So “sonata form” refers to the features we see in
sonatas, but it doesn’t capture the way that composers composed. Some scholars take issue with
the word “form” for this very reason. Also, form can oversimplify the sophistication of some
sonata movements and even keep us from fully appreciating the exceptions to the rule. For every
sonata that fulfills all the expectations of sonata form, there is one that doesn’t. Slow introductions,
the absence of a second theme, a new theme in the development, or development in the coda, are
some examples of this.
Most first movements are in sonata form or sonata style, and it is typically the most substantial
movement in the string quartet. Sonata form has three main sections--the exposition, which is
often repeated, the development, and the recapitulation. In some sonatas, the development and
recapitulation are repeated. Now, I think it is helpful to view this form as a kind of narrative about
conflict and resolution. After all, conflict and resolution are at the heart of most creative endeavors.
The conflict is presented in the exposition via a first theme which is set in a tonic or home key, and
a secondary theme which is often opposite in character and situated in the dominant key (if the
piece is in a major key to begin with.) In the development, motives from the first and/or second
theme are repeated as the music explores other key areas. This is the moment of greatest intrigue,
because there is a high degree of uncertainty and harmonic instability achieved through rapid
modulations. Eventually, the recapitulation occurs, and this is marked by the return of the first and
second themes, both in the home key. By the recapitulation, all harmonic conflict between the first
and second themes is resolved. A coda section after the recap wraps the piece up and affirms the
tonic key.
Haydn placed importance on the development section because it poses great creative possibilities
and shows off his talent for developing or elaborating on the thematic ideas from the exposition.
Harmonically speaking, it enabled him to build anticipation for the recapitulation and to create new
and more clever ways of restoring the home key. For composers like Beethoven and Brahms,
development sections were also moments of dramatic importance. In fact, theirs were often so
lengthy that they destabilized the overall harmonic balance of the movement. To counterbalance
this, they would create lengthy coda or closing sections at the end of the movement to stabilize the
home key. As the development sections grew, the symmetry of the two halves of sonata form was
thrown off, so composers eventually eliminated the repeat for the development and recap.
A Theme and Variations movement, which is sometimes found in slow movements and in other
movements, is simpler to explain. In such a movement, the melodic or the harmonic content of the
theme is preserved in all of the variations. Each variation decorates or changes the emotional feel
of the theme, but preserves it enough so that the listener can still hear it. Some theme and
variations movements end with a restatement of the theme.
A Minuet and Trio movement is a dance movement in 3/4 and it is typically the third movement,
or the second, if it switches places with the slow movement. The minuet theme has two halves,
both of which are repeated, as does the contrasting trio section. The trio is often lighter in texture
and sometimes switches to major or minor mode for greater contrast. Finally, the minuet section
returns, and according to convention is played without repeats.
Scherzo movements are very similar in structure to the Minuet and Trio, but have a more
lighthearted or humorous feel in the outer sections.
Rondo form is about contrast. The “A” theme which is in the tonic key alternates with other
contrasting themes in different harmonic territories, which I have labeled here as “B” and “C.”
Think of the “A” theme as being the glue that binds the work together. As it returns over and over
again, it creates cohesion. Now, rondos can come in any configuration that preserves this spirit of
contrast and cohesion. For example, a longer rondo movement might have a “D” section as well,
resulting in an ABACADA structure.
The sonata-rondo form is a hybrid of the sonata and rondo. We can consider the first ABA section
as the equivalent of the exposition, with the A being the first theme in the tonic key, and the B
being the secondary theme in the dominant (if the work is in a major key.) The C section is
somewhat like the development in that it moves to a very different harmonic territory, and the final
AB’A is like the recapitulation. Now, ABACABA could be the structure of a rondo movement.
The litmus test for the sonata-rondo is whether or not the returning B section is in the tonic key. If
it is, then it is notated as B’ to indicate the change. This tonicization of the B section in the return
is much like that which occurs for the second theme in the recapitulation section of sonata form.
Welcome to the "Story" portion of Program Two. In this segment, Arnold and I will journey with
you through three exemplary string quartets by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, three Classical
composers who lived in or were from Vienna. These selections reveal important string quartet
developments as well as key personality traits of these composers.
We begin our journey with Franz Joseph Haydn, who lived from 1732-1809. Haydn created the
classical string quartet in the late 1750s. He is referred to as the "father" of the string quartet
because his 68 quartets establish the genre, which back then was associated with private or semi-
private performances in the aristocratic salon or middle-class parlor. He codified the four-
movement approach to the modern string quartet, which presents a balance of moods and tempos.
Composers have used or modified this approach over the last two centuries.
The four movements are as follows: the first movement is typically the most substantial movement
in sonata form and also fast, or in "allegro" tempo. The second movement is slow and emotive,
and comes in a variety of forms like theme and variations, sonata form with no development, or an
ABA ternary form. Next is the third movement , which is a minuet and trio. It's inspired by a dance
meter in three. The order of the second and third movements can be switched, so don't be puzzled
if you see the minuet and trio before the slow movement. To close off the work, we have a fourth
and final movement which is typically in rondo form or variant thereof, and it's very upbeat in feel.
I encourage you to consult the short video called "Learning Library" in the supplementary
resources for a more detailed explanation of these formal terms.
Now, Haydn lived and composed during a time of great stylistic change. During his childhood and
youth, Baroque traditions (think J.S. Bach) were still alive and well. But by the end of his life, the
stability of the Classical style as represented by his own mature works and those of Mozart, were
being challenged by Beethoven, who ushered in the Romantic era. Adapting to stylistic changes
was at the heart of Haydn's early years. He had to come to terms with the old and the new. How
would Haydn bring the two together? On the one hand, he was influenced by the serious and
grand counterpoint of the Baroque era, which was gradually coming to a close. At the same time,
he was absorbing the lighter more entertaining spirit of the galant style from the Pre- Classical era.
In the Baroque period, composers treated the parts equally through contrapuntal textures like
fugues and canons, where the parts are in active conversation with each other through strict
imitation. Let's listen to an example of this.
[MUSIC]
The newer galant style favored a chordal or homophonic texture where the melody reigns supreme.
The phrasing here in the gallant style is shorter, symmetrical, clearly articulated, and elegant. Now
this texture placed importance on the melody, while the other parts provide harmonic support.
Let's listen to the opening of the first movement from Haydn's "Joke" quartet to get a feel for
homophonic texture.
[MUSIC]
Haydn’s Joke
By his opus 9 set of string quartets, Haydn felt that the genre was really taking shape, even though
he still referred to them as "Divertimentos," which was a term also associated with light orchestral
music. The four movement framework was in place, and he was finding ways to balance the old
texture with the new. In his opus 20 set of quartets, Haydn uses fugues in some of the final
movements, which directs his attention even more to this matter of maximizing string interaction.
He was able to focus on the freedom of the bass line and also in creating a texture that balanced
the best of Baroque counterpoint with the simpler homophonic textures the early Classical style.
Now, this brings us to his opus 33 set, which Haydn composed in 1781. For the first time, Haydn
refers to this collection of 4-voice works as "Quartets." He declared that he wrote them "in a new
and special way." The voices interact with each other more actively, even outside of strict
counterpoint and the structure of the works is exceedingly clear. In opus 33 number two, which is
called the "joke" quartet, Haydn shows us his true nature. He is a man of humor, fun, and
boundless creativity. He even replaces the minuet and trio with a scherzo movement. "scherzo"
meaning joke.
[MUSIC]
Haydn's sense of humor is infectious. Arnold is going to tell us more about the lighter side of
Haydn's personality.
Joseph Haydn's opus 33 string quartets were written in 1781, more or less in the middle years of his
highly creative musical life. These quartets have several nicknames, the most common of which is
the "Russian" quartets because Haydn dedicated them to the Grand Duke Paul of Russia. Their
publisher, Artaria, advertised the pieces as being "of a new and entirely special kind." This might
have been said, however, of many of Haydn's quartets, both before after the opus 33 set, such was
his brilliance and daring as a composer. But it was certainly true of opus 33 number two, the so-
called "joke" quartet, which got its name from the joke Haydn sets in motion at the very end of the
fourth and last movement of this lovely quartet.
All four movements are beautifully crafted. The first is upbeat and joyous. The second, a robust
country dance with a middle section in which you can almost smell the beer being swilled, the
third, sweet and good-natured, and the fourth high jinx and a bit rowdy. Still, there's no way to
foresee the joke to come. As the quartet heads toward its end a brief slow section is followed by a
snippet of the movement's beginning material at breakneck speed. Then it stops as abruptly as it
starts. Is the piece over, the audience wonders? Well, actually, no. Just a long pause. The music
starts up again, then stops once more with another long pause. It's over now, right? Sorry, just
another long pause. And then yet another start and another stop. With one false ending after
another, the poor listener never knows for sure whether to laugh or to clap and usually winds up
doing both.
So far, we've had three fragments of the original theme interrupted by three long pauses in a row.
But now comes the mother of all long pauses leaving the audience completely bamboozled. And
then, a fourth fragment of the theme, played much softer than the others. A throwaway line, really,
ends the piece.
It has been said that musicians are in essence storytellers--the best musicians being the ones able to
tell a story very, very well. But in the case of the "Joke" Quartet, four musicians are called upon to
be comedians rather than storytellers. Are you a string player who can tell a joke well? I hear that
Haydn is looking for people like you.
[MUSIC]
Now we turn our attention to Mozart's "Dissonance" quartet in C major, K. 465. In 1781, Mozart
arrived in Vienna the year that Haydn had completed his influential "Opus 33" set of quartets.
Mozart greatly admired Haydn, had studied Haydn's opus 33, and was profoundly impacted by
them. Mozart's "Dissonance" quartet is the last of his Haydn quartets, so named for their
dedication to the great master. During this time, Haydn and Mozart had become friends, and
sometimes played quartets together in Mozart's apartment, with Mozart playing the viola, and
Haydn playing the violin. Haydn first heard Mozart's "Haydn" quartets in the early months of 1785
at two gatherings in Mozart's home. After hearing them all, Haydn made a now famous remark to
Mozart's father, Leopold, who was visiting from Salzburg. "Before God, and as an honest man, I
tell you that your son is the greatest composer known to me either in person or by name. He has
taste, and, what's more, the most profound knowledge of composition."
Mozart described this work and the others of the set as "the fruit of a long and laborious effort."
Indeed, Mozart pushes the string quartet into a dramatic territory. He creates a distinctly new
interaction between the four instruments. Like Haydn, Mozart is integrating the old style of
counterpoint with the modern homophonic texture of the Classical period, but he does so with
even greater ease. Even when the melody is in the first violin, the others are consistently active in
their interaction, and not just backup harmony.
Now, the term "Dissonance" arose in the title in this work because of the writhing, anguished
harmonies in the very beginning measures of the unique slow introduction to the first movement.
The strong clash of the pitches may cause listeners to wonder if wrong notes are being played. In
actuality, this disturbing passage is meant to create anticipation for the arrival of the sunny Allegro
section in C major. It is a stunning dramatic fake out for what happens next. Let's listen to these
opening measures.
[MUSIC]
There are several things going on in this texture that are worth noting: in these opening measures,
we hear the pulsating notes in the cello; the addition of voices from the bottom up-- first cello,
then viola, second violin, and finally first violin. We also hear imitation in the top three voices; and
finally, the extraordinary dissonances are the result of chromatic writing; that is moving in half
steps. The intense expression in the opening measures of the first movement is quite striking.
Keep in mind that every other movement lives in the emotional aftermath of this cataclysmic
statement. But, Mozart doesn't simply dispel anguish in favor optimism, instead, he works
moments of darkness into the other movements by referencing these opening measures. Arnold
will now tell us more.
Every time I have listened to or performed the opening introduction of Mozart's Dissonance
Quartet, K465 in C major, its depth of feeling as well as its sheer audacity take my breath away.
The somber, repeated cello notes that set the movement in motion merely hint at what is to come,
and the two subsequent entrances of the viola and second violin do no better at their outset than
complete a simple major chord. Only with the first violin's entrance--an almost painful and
certainly shocking dissonance for which the Quartet derives its name-- does Mozart tip his hand
and finally reveal the true character of the introduction-- one of anguish and melancholy. But then,
poof, it's over. The main body of the movement chases away every negative thought with its
upbeat and cheerful key of C major. Or is that dark, dissonant mood really over?
If one is looking for dark moments they can be found elsewhere in the quartet. The courtly good
manners of the third movement, a minuet, are banished temporarily by a tumultuous and raging
middle section, and the fourth movement's good cheer is also interrupted as those earlier feelings
of anguish briefly surface. The second movement, however, offers two of the most poignant and
heart-stopping moments in its otherwise lyrical and thoughtful character. Each begins only after a
small but arresting pause in the music that feels as if time itself stands still. Then, delicately pulsing
notes accompanied by the gentlest murmuring of another set of faster notes gradually swell, change
character, and culminate in two angry chords. Perhaps they are response in Mozart's mind to those
mournful opening notes of the quartet. But while the second of these two remarkable passages
begins with the same material as the first, this time the music extends into a series of painful
dissonances, dissonances expressing desperation, you might say, before finally slipping into a coda
of such beauty, sadness, and resignation, that one can't help thinking Mozart has left our mortal
world far behind and is convening with a higher power unknown to most of us. Perhaps the
Dissonance Quartet could be characterized as Mozart's reflection on life's opposite poles of
lightness and darkness. I go away from each performance uplifted and moved by the music, but
I'm never sure which of those states of mind and feeling triumph in the end. And I'm not sure
Mozart does either.
Despite the fact that Beethoven already had significant success with piano trios, piano sonatas, and
other works written in his 20s, he only completed his first six string quartets, the opus 18 set, at the
age of 30. Fully aware of the musical giants preceding him, Haydn and Mozart, Beethoven must
have prepared himself with great care in order to follow in their footsteps. For example, he himself
wrote out by hand Mozart's A major quartet, K464, in order to study it in detail, and ultimately to
use it as inspiration for his own quartet in A major, opus 18 number five. And Beethoven's
sketchbooks, that have fortunately been handed down to us, show him struggling to come up with
the beginning of what would eventually become his opus 18 number one string quartet. In one
instance, experimenting with four beats to a bar before realizing that three would be far better.
Opus 18 number one clearly inherits the musical language of Haydn and Mozart, but it has its own
distinct character. The first movement is crafted brilliantly with charm, vitality, exuberance, and
sparkle. There is even a touch of mock-seriousness, when six hefty notes march up to a very long
intensely sustained one, do it again for a good measure, and then lightly and playfully skip off to
the movement's end. There is nothing mock about the second movement's seriousness, however.
This is music of great drama. Listen to the pulsating opening notes from the three lower voices.
The aching melancholy of the first violin's melody. Its reincarnation later as an angry outburst from
second violin and viola. The heart-stopping spaces between chords. First diminishing in volume,
and much later increasing to a fast chord of sheer rage. And finally, a passage in the first violin that
gradually winds down like a puppet, whose strings have gone limp, the two final spasms that end
the movement.
According to Beethoven's friend Karl Amenda, the second movement was inspired by the tomb
scene from William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. I did not know this for the longest time. But
every time I've heard or played this music, I had the distinct and uncommon feeling that I was at
the theater, to witness a great tragedy being played out. And every time I've come to the end of this
movement onstage, it has been hard for me to retain a performer's necessary objectivity, and not
be completely swept away by the powerful emotions embedded in its last dying notes. And now,
Mia will elaborate on this.
As Arnold mentioned, the second movement is in D minor, inspired by the tomb scene from
William Shakepeare's Romeo and Juliet. It so happens that Beethoven reworked the version that
Karl Amenda first received. A year later, he sent the new version to the publisher, with a change in
the second movement's marking, from Adagio molto, meaning very slow, to the more specific,
"Adagio affettuoso ed appassionato." Slow tempo, with tender feeling, and with passion. Of these
modifications, Beethoven wrote to Amenda, "Be sure not to hand on to anybody your quartet, in
which I have made some drastic alterations. For only now have I learned to write quartets. And
this you'll notice, I fancy, when you receive them." The use of D minor as a key for this musical
statement is notable. Because it is the only slow movement in the opus 18 set of six quartets that's
in a minor mode. Beethoven's opus 18 number one is set in F major, with an upbeat first
movement, that pays homage to Haydn. But then he makes a decisive move to D minor, to
facilitate this emotionally weighty second movement. One can't help but make associations with
Mozart's tragic statements in the same key.
This movement plumbs the depths of sadness, and brings forth poignant references to
remembrances past. But that's not all. This music is a presentiment of things to come. The
Romantic spirit at work here comes into its own in Beethoven's later works. Ultimately, he leaves
behind the formal restraint and elegance of the Classical era, in search of his own, self-directed
expression. The final movement displays Beethoven's vivaciousness. It's quite Haydnesque in spirit.
The central section of this movement, which we refer to as the development, demonstrates
Beethoven's love of counterpoint, as a fugato passage takes root. This example of fugal writing in
the finale is another sign of things to come. Think of the finale to Beethoven's string quartet in C
major, opus 59 number three. Or the granddaddy of them all, the Grosse Fugue, which was the
original final movement in his string quartet in B flat major, opus 130.
Well, more on this later. Before we get ahead of ourselves, let's listen to a moment from the
Romeo and Juliet movement of Beethoven's string quartet, opus 18 number one in F major.
[MUSIC]
One year as a school project, four of us at the Curtis Institute of Music decided to study Opus 130,
Beethoven's late quartet in B-flat major, with its original last movement, the "Great Fugue." Why
this particular work? We students were transfixed by its six movements, each stunningly beautiful,
each surprisingly different from the others. Each masterfully crafted and with moments of
shocking originality in the quartet's last movement, the "Great Fugue."
The idea working on any of Beethoven's five late quartets probably came from a performance at
the school by a venerable quartet of that era, the Paganini String Quartet. Their program
concluded with Beethoven's late quartet Opus 132 in A-minor. Sitting in the audience with my
fellow students I had the feeling that Beethoven was taking me on a long and other-worldly
journey. Or was it the innermost of journeys, into the depths of his soul? especially so in the
extended elegiac slow movement, in which Beethoven, just recovered from serious illness, gives
thanks to God for his recovery.
With the Beethoven performance still fresh in our minds, working on Opus 130 proved irresistible.
As the four of us sat down to read through the quartet for the very first time, I had the
uncommon feeling that we were not only about to study a great work of music, but also that we
were embarking as in that recent Opus 132 performance, on an extraordinary adventure into the
recesses of Beethoven's heart and mind, but also inevitably into our own. It was a memorable
moment in my young life.
Opus 130's first movement curtain-raiser is a slow, atmospheric and moving introduction that is
interrupted by busy running notes, and a fanfare-like call as if a bugler is summoning his troops to
action. Perhaps calling the entire work to action. That curtain-raiser keeps returning, however, as
Beethoven joins the two extremes of tempo in the movement into a masterful study of light and
darkness. Our greatest challenge seemed to be in putting those pieces together coherently. The
second movement, lightning quick and quirky, finishes almost before it's begun. A perverse and
teasing punctuation to the musings of the first movement. Short as the movement is, Beethoven
takes just enough time along the way to stick his tongue out at the world in a display of wicked
humor. First time through, I found it hard not to burst out laughing.
The third movement is lyrical and good-natured, mixing singing melodies with pleasing rhythms
that are like the inner workings of a watch. Beethoven seems to be telling us that the world is in
order, and that life is good. The fourth movement, a rustic country dance in which I could almost
visualize the locals in post-harvest celebration, is set like a refreshing oasis between what has
passed and what will follow. Two of the most remarkable movements in the quartet literature.
Beethoven reportedly wept as he wrote the fifth movement, the cavatina. And again, when he
heard it performed, so moved was he by the music. Placed between the deeply affecting opening
and closing sections is a brief passage of music that expresses the utter despair and disorientation
of a person who has lost his way. His hope. His identity. Could Beethoven, now old, sick, and deaf,
have been referring to himself, I wondered? Perhaps Beethoven was uncomfortable with the
sublime creation he had brought forth.
The sixth and final movement, the "Great Fugue," sweeps the cavatina's aura aside as it shocks,
excites, and intimidates. This isn't so much a musical composition as a full-scale storm. An act of
nature, but with interludes of quiet meditation in the eyes of that all engulfing storm. Our job, it
seemed to me, was to master the intricacies of the Great Fugue as best we could, and then throw
caution to the winds in an attempt to become that storm ourselves. After several months of
rehearsals in which we struggled to master the basics of ensemble and intonation, then gradually
formed a conception of the music through discussion, often heated, and by simple trial and error,
the four of us finally performed Beethoven's Opus 130 string quartet at a student concert. I walked
off the stage drained but elated, and I imagine my friends must have felt the same. Absent was the
voluptuous sound of a great orchestra, and the enormous variety of its instrumental colors. There
were no bells or whistles in what we had just performed. Only music stripped of every frill, and
pared down to its absolute essentials. Perhaps Beethoven had no other choice, because of the bare
boned nature of the string quartet, than to express only what was necessary and important for him
at that moment in his life. And in turn, I had discovered something essential, meaningful, and
deeply spiritual for myself through this music.
In that moment my connection to the string quartet changed forever. If it could be the vehicle for
such powerful states of mind and feeling, I would always want to have quartet music as a part of
my life. What I did not realize was that Opus 130 and the rest of the stunning quartet repertoire
would eventually lead me to become a founding member of the Guarneri String Quartet. And one
more thing. The other violinist in our group, John Dalley, must've felt similarly for he was to
become the other violinist of our Guarneri Quartet. The two of us sitting side by side and making
blissful music together for the entire length of our 45-year career on the concert stage.
Welcome to the Nuts and Bolts segment for Program Two, "The Founders." Today, I'll be
demonstrating the ideas and building blocks found in the first movements of Beethoven's most
celebrated late string quartets; the String Quartet No. 13 in B-flat major, Op. 130, and the String
Quartet No. 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 131. Before I begin, I would like to encourage you to
consult the short video in the "Learning Library" for a more detailed explanation of form and
structure.
Every composer changes and matures through the course of his or her life. Certainly, Haydn, the
father of the string quartet, changed greatly from his early quartets, Op. 9 and 20, to his first
significant set, Op. 33. He continued to evolve, revealing a darker side to his persona in his Op. 76
quartets and he kept innovating. For example, he placed a greater emphasis on the last movements
of his quartets, something that both Beethoven and Brahms explored in their works. For
Beethoven, change or significant transformation is also evident in his late string quartets.
These string quartets, especially Op. 130, 131 and 132, display a greater than four- movement
approach. There are six movements for opus 130, seven for opus 131 and five for opus 132. In all
three cases there is a lot of interconnectivity between the movements as if they're part of one large
vision, and often the ideas in the first movement impact subsequent movements, particularly the
final one, in the most ingenious ways. In light of the innovations he carried out in these late works,
his first string quartet in F major opus 18 No. 1, which Arnold and I discussed in the "Story"
segment, will seem like it was composed in a previous lifetime.
Let's begin with the opus 130 quartet. As you will learn in Program 7's "Story" segment, this
quartet houses six movements of which the "Great Fugue" was the original sixth and final one,
until it was replaced with a more lighthearted finale at the behest of his publisher, and others. It so
happens that Beethoven sketched the principal fugue theme of the "Great Fugue" shortly before
he began the first movement of Op. 130. So, he facilitated the ideas that come to fruition in the
"Great Fugue" by sowing their seeds in the first movement of this work. I'm going to focus on just
two of those seeds.
The first movement is in sonata form and Beethoven presents two contradictory ideas right off the
bat. The first is the "Adagio ma non troppo" or "slow but not too slow" theme in 3/4 meter and it
sounds like this:
[MUSIC]
The second is the "Allegro" or "fast" theme in 4/4. It sounds like this:
[MUSIC]
So, you have two different tempos and meters at the start at the movement. Which one will
prevail? At first it's hard to tell, because Beethoven alternates them twice. Eventually, the "Allegro"
theme wins out and establishes itself as the true tempo for the movement. Incidentally, Beethoven
introduces the development and coda or closing sections with this same uncertain alternation of
slow and fast themes, as if to drive home the effect of this odd juxtaposition. Now, embedded in
these contradictory themes are two important ideas. The first is a half-step or "appoggiatura," that
keeps recurring. For example, the half step pitches B-flat and A are found here in all four voices.
Here in the first violin. And here again in the first violin. Let me play this for you so you can hear
this recurring idea.
[MUSIC]
The second idea appears in the Allegro theme, where the falling and rising scales outline giant
intervals like D to B flat, which is a 10th in the first violin. Here's what this passage sounds like:
[MUSIC]
Now in the original finale to Op. 131, the "Great Fugue," the principal subject or theme, which is
right here, sounds like this:
[MUSIC]
Notice the ubiquitous presence of these half-step relationships that I outlined outlined in the first
movement. They are the building blocks this principal fugue theme. Except here, the two-notes
are separated by rests and each note is rhythmically elongated. The second fugue subject which
occurs shortly after has the leaping 10th intervals outlined in the Allegro section of the first
movement.
[MUSIC]
These are only two of the many examples where ideas from the first movement come to fruition in
the finale.
Greetings. I am once again here with the wonderful Aizuri String Quartet, and we would like to
discuss with you now Beethoven's string quartet Op. 130 in B-flat major. And so I'm just
wondering, have any you played this piece before? No, it's our first time. So, you have come at this
with fresh eyes and fresh ears. What's your impression? Well, this piece is--provides a lot of
challenges, as I think most Beethoven quartets-- any Beethoven quartet does. But I guess the
challenge in this piece, this movement is that he goes back and forth between a very slow tempo
and a very quick tempo. So, it's very difficult to get a sense of that tempo. And I guess Miho is kind
of the one who shows us the way, as regards to the tempo. And even within the faster portion, for
example, you know, he would be asking you to play really fast notes, and then all the sudden turn a
corner and play those same fast notes really softly, or kind of, he has you really running to lunge at
something and then he plants the slow music again in front of you, and you have to kind of
emotionally put on the brakes and recall that slow music from the beginning and try to-- to keep
playing. And that's also a challenge. Right. And so, this causes problems. How do you play
together? We need a conductor, we need a a leader, and in this case it's you, Miho, as first violin.
And characteristically, the first violin has the bulk of the leading. Not all of it, but the bulk of the
leading because you so often play the melody. And so, How do you do it? I guess there's--part of it
is a physical moving, to show where a note might start. Also, I think we all do this together. But
there's breathing that happens before we start playing and that kind of breath will depend on if
we're playing something slow, or if it's something in a quicker tempo. Would you demonstrate?
Sure. [DEMONSTRATES]
Now, it's very interesting for me to watch you, because there wasn't one lead. I thought I saw three
different leads. Because obviously, you have to lead the first note. But the first note doesn't give
you any sense of tempo at all. You've just started together. So we need a second beat. So again,
there was a motion for the second beat and then there's a longer note, but for insurance there was
a third lead. So, that was done with a certain amount of motion. But this reminds me of something
else. I attended a Budapest string quartet concert where they began the program with another late
Beethoven string quartet, Op. 127, which begins with these grand chords. And they just started to
play. I didn't see any sign at all. Well, the Budapest Quartet were our mentors in the Guarneri
String Quartet. And so I-- after the concert I asked Alexander Schneider, who was the second
violinist of the quartet, "How did you play together?" He said, "Oh, we eat each other's fingers."
And I said, "You eat other's fingers? The Budapest String Quartet are cannibals?" But he said, "No
we watch each other's fingers. We don't watch our beautiful faces, we don't watch the wonderful
movements. We watch the finger going down on the string." So, that must undoubtedly be the
other element in this whole thing. As you give the lead, everybody's watching your fingers. They're
eating your fingers. Don't take it personally.
So, that's a mechanical thing. But what is your impression, musically, of the first movement of this
quartet?
It's -- I -- for me, I feel like this first movement, though it has all these different changes, or hitches
that we kind of have to finesse and collect ourselves every time we get into something different or
drastic, it's not--that doesn't make us feel frantic. Or, it shouldn't make us feel frantic. It should
make us feel energized and joyful. And I think especially the Allegros, the faster portions of this
first movement, are just kind of fanfares. Or something that's really a call to an intro to a bigger
work. And so it's very exciting.
And Beethoven also, I think, shows a bit of his sense of humor, perhaps.
But this fanfare aspect that you spoke of, Ayane. I've often-- you have-- you have the slow
introduction, and then you have these scurrying fast notes, and then you have this figure: long long,
short short, long. Which, I could imagine this played on a cornet or a trumpet, calling the troops to
action. Karen, would you would you show us or play for us exactly what that sounds like?
[MUSIC]
So this, is, in a way, a call to action for the four of you to play not only the first movement but for
the -- it's a call to action for the entire piece. It's it's wonderfully descriptive somehow. Wonderful
movement, wonderful piece. I wonder whether you'd just play us some of the first movement,
please.
Sure.
[MUSIC]
Now, on to the first movement of Beethoven's Opus 131 String Quartet. Here we see something
quite different. If you'll remember, Opus 130's first movement was in sonata form, and the original
final movement was the "Great Fugue." In Opus 131, Beethoven flips this concept and introduces
a fugue in the first movement, and completes the work with a 7th and final movement that is in
sonata form. Now this concept of inter-movement connectivity and relationship continues here as
well. The seven movements of opus 131 continue from one to the next without any significant
pause in between to emphasize their interdependence. Here's an outline of what they are.
There's the fugal first movement, which is an introduction to a sonata rondo second movement. A
short third movement, that's an introduction to the slow fourth movement. A scherzo fifth
movement, and a short six movement that's an introduction to the seventh movement, which is in
sonata form. You will notice that vestiges of the old four-movement form are evident here. But the
order of the outer movements is switched. In a more typical four-movement string quartet, the first
movement is in sonata form, the second is a slow movement, the third a scherzo movement, and
the finale a fugue. Now let's take a closer look at the key areas of some of the movements The first
movement is in C sharp minor, the second is in D major, the fourth is in A major and the fifth in E
major. The sixth is in G sharp minor, and the final movement comes back again to C sharp minor.
If we look at the fugue theme in movement one as presented in the first violin and then imitated in
the second violin, this is what we hear.
[MUSIC]
You will see that some of the pitches in the fugue theme played by the first and second violins
actually outline the keys of the seven movements. G sharp, the key of the sixth movement. C
sharp, the key the seventh movement. A, the key of the fourth movement. E, the key in the fifth
movement. Again, a G sharp, which is the key of the sixth movement, then C sharp, the key of the
first movement, and D. The key of the second movement. This is an interesting example of how
Beethoven creates connections between the thematic content the first movement's fugue, and the
key areas of the subsequent movements. of course many other relationships between this and the
other movements also exist. This is just a taste of the inventive design Beethoven conceived for
this extraordinary work.
If you'll permit me to sound Biblical for a moment, "In the beginning there was nothing and then
Joseph Haydn said, 'Let there be string quartets.'" However, he did not necessarily say, "Let there
be professional string quartets." For the longest time, people only got together on an ad hoc basis
for a specific quartet performance, or even simply for pleasure. One stunning example was a read-
through it a quartet party of Haydn's string quartets by Haydn himself, and Carl Ditters von
Dittersdorf violins, Johann Baptist Vanhal, cello, and none other than Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
playing viola. I would have given up my entire record collection to be a fly on the wall listening to
them play. But I also would have given up that collection to hear the first professional string
quartet of any significance, the Schuppanzigh String Quartet.
Ignaz Schuppanzigh, its founder and first violinist, was an Austrian violinist and conductor born in
1776 and died in 1830. Actually, Schuppanzigh formed three different quartets at different stages
of his career. The first was under the sponsorship of Prince Lichnowsky. Beethoven, a frequent
guest of the Prince, soon developed a meaningful relationship with the quartet's four young
players. The Beethoven scholar Alexander Thayer wrote of the Schuppanzigh Quartet, "They
enjoyed an advantage known to no other quartet. That of playing the compositions of Hayden and
Foerster under the eye of the composers, and being taught by them every effect that the music was
intended to produce. When Beethoven began to compose quartets, he had therefore a set of
performers schooled to perfection by his great predecessors, and who already had experience in his
own music through the trios and sonatas. In fact, it was Schuppanzigh who advised Beethoven to
place the quartet in F first rather than second, when his six Opus 18 quartets were published.
Schuppanzigh's Quartet most probably gave the first performances of most of Beethoven's
quartets as they came out, including all five of his very last. Beethoven admired Schuppanzigh
greatly, and commented on his expressive and fiery playing, and the two were on friendly and
comfortable enough terms for Beethoven to call Schuppanzigh, "My Lord Falstaff," based on his
excessive weight, and to compose a short comic choral piece dedicated to him. "Praise to the Fat
One." And yet Schuppanzigh will be forever remembered if for no other reason than for a remark
Beethoven made to him after Schuppanzigh complained about a difficult passage in one of his
quartets. Beethoven said, "Do you believe I think about your miserable fiddle when the muse
strikes me?"
Over 200 years have elapsed from the time the Schuppanzigh String Quartet was first formed, to
that of our Guarneri String Quartet in 1964, with John Dalley and me, violins, Michael Tree, viola,
and David Soyer, cello. The differences between how the Schuppanzigh and the Guarneri string
quartet operated are enormous. For example, we Guarneris did not have the enviable opportunity
of getting interpretive advice directly from the horse's mouth. I might add that we also did not
have to suffer Beethoven's temper tantrums or risk being dismissed from our quartet for failure to
meet his high standards
But we had a certain amount of experience unavailable to the Schuppanzighs. Each of us inevitably
listen to innumerable Beethoven quartet performances and recordings from childhood on, that
gave us a wealth of information on how others had interpreted these works. The Budapest String
Quartet loomed large in this respect, as both our mentors and our inspiration, especially through
their Beethoven recordings. We were given the enviable opportunity to study and perform all the
quartets both individually and as a cycle quite early in our career. These are works that put a young
quartet on notice from the very first note of the very first published quartet, opus 18 number 1,
that there will be enormous challenges both technically and musically as it begins rehearsals. The
Guarneri Quartet has had the privilege of playing each of the Beethoven quartets innumerable
times, and we have recorded the entire cycle twice.
Needless to say, we have never tired of Beethoven string quartets, each a masterpiece. Each a
complete self-enclosed universe, with a different feel, a different atmosphere and story to tell. That
must be at least in part the reason why Beethoven cycles are far more popular than those of any
other composer. For anyone who cares to listen to both of our recorded cycles, there are some
subtle and some not so subtle differences in interpretation. This was in no way pre-planned, just as
one's handwriting changes with age, repetition, and I might add without conscious thought. When
you add into the mix the very conscious thought that goes into interpreting Beethoven's quartets,
change is inevitable and unstoppable. The only thing unstoppable is our ongoing need for these
Beethoven quartets, each a saga in itself, each with something deeply important, even spiritual to
convey to us. That will never change.