THE
SCHUMANN
QUARTETS
It is an odd
coincidence that
Brahms and his
friend and
champion Schumann
each published
three string
quartets, for
where one might
not have expected
so many from
Schumann, one
would certainly
have expected more
from Brahms.
Character perhaps
had something to
do with it, and
Brahms’s restraint
might be explained
by hesitance while
Schumann’s three
could be
attributed to
enthusiasm.
Most of Schumann’s
work can, in fact,
be classified in
periods which
coincide with
sudden enthusiasms
and successive
preoccupations.
First and probably
foremost he was a
composer of piano
music. Then in
1840 came the
great flood of
songs. The
following year
1841 was the year
of orchestral
works. Chamber
music followed in
1842, all three
string quartets
being written in
June and July of
that year.
To some extent
this division of
his work was the
result of his
consuming passion
for Clara Wieck,
daughter of his
former music
teacher and a
brilliant concert
pianist. The years
of courtship were
difficult and it
was only after a
long and bitter
struggle against
Clara’s father
that he was able
to marry her in
1840 -
appropriately the
year of his
outburst of song.
But it was Clara’s
particular desire
(perhaps because
she would rather
be the wife of a
successful
composer than have
him remain the
husband of a
successful
pianist) that he
should move out
from the
subjective,
introverted world
of his
drawing-room music
into the realm of
“pure” music for
the concert hall.
And as Schumann’s
wife she was able
to give him the
help and
encouragement he
needed.
There was more to
it than merely
composing, for
Schumann was aware
that his early
training left
something to be
desired in his
technical ability
to handle the
finer points of
the traditional
“grand” manner.
That had to be
overcome by study
and this Clara and
Robert did
together whenever
possible. The year
1842 found Robert
studying in depth
the string
quartets of Haydn
and Mozart and his
enthusiasm was the
final creative
impulse which led
to the Op. 41
quartets.
But it would be
wrong to suggest
that the idea of
writing string
quartets had never
entered Schumann’s
head before. As
early as 1838 we
find him
confessing in his
correspondence
with Clara that
“the piano has
become too limited
for me... In
the works I am now
composing I
hear many things I
can hardly
express.” In
1839 his letters
to his composer
friend Hermann
Hirschbach tell us
that he was
studying
Beethoven’s late
quartets and
thinking of
writing some
himself that
summer.
Whenever the seeds
of the Op. 41
quartets were
sown, it was in
1842 that they
came to full
flower. After
preliminary
sketches the first
was begun on June
4 and before it
was completed he
began the second
on June 11. The
third was begun on
July 8 and
completed on July
22.
If any doubts
remained in some
people’s
minds about
Schumann’s true
genius as a
composer, the
quartets helped to
settle the matter.
Mendelssohn, to
whom the works
were dedicated and
who had previously
tended to treat
Schumann’s talent
rather lightly in
his good-natured
way, was among
those deeply
impressed by their
craftsmanship. The
composer and
theorist Moritz
Hauptmann summed
up Leipzig’s
critical reaction
in a letter to the
composer Spohr:
“At David’s
(Ferdinand David,
the German
violinist,
composer, and
conductor) I
heard three
quartets by
Schumann; his
first, which
delighted me a
great deal, made
me wonder at his
talent, which I
had regarded as
not particularly
outstanding,
considering his
previous piano
pieces... there is
no paucity of
unusual ideas in
content and form,
it is cleverly
conceived and
constructed, and a
great deal of it
is very beautiful.”
What most pleased
and surprised
Hauptmann, who in
1842 became
professor of
counterpoint and
composition at the
new Leipzig
Conservatory, was
probably the
contrapuntal
nature of the
quartets,
particularly the
first two. In
them Schumann
obviously found an
outlet for the
“new” sounds he
was hearing and
about which he had
written to Clara
in 1838: “It
is remarkable how
almost all my
ideas now are
canonic and how I
always discover
the imitating
voices later,
often in inversion
or in changed
rhythms... ."
OP. 41 NOS. 1
AND 2
The first two
quartets (in A
minor and F
major), on which
Schumann worked
simultaneously for
a while, can be
considered
together for they
are similar in
conception and
form. The flanking
movements in both
are in sonata form
and are
astonishingly
concise in their
expositions: the
brief, unassuming
second subjects
seem to evolve
naturally from the
main themes and
the links between
subjects are often
underlined by
juxtaposition in
codettas or
developments. ln
No. 1’s finale,
for instance, the
second subject
begins with an
inversion of the
first subject’s
opening notes and
in a novel
recapitulation
Schumann begins
with his bridge,
the main theme
reappearing after
the second
subject. Another
unusual feature of
this finale is the
use of what might
be described as a
“marker" passage -
a musette-like
drone on the cello
with, above it, a
rising diminished
seventh on the
viola which
signals the start
of the irregular
recapitulation. In
the coda we find a
more extended
musette passage in
A major. Similarly
in the F major
quartet, both the
first and last
movements have
passages which
mark the end of
the developments
and eventually
return in the
codas - in the
first movement a
series of piano/forte
contrasts and in
the finale a
sudden animato.
The song-like Adagio
of the A minor
quartet is
preceded by a
puckish scherzo
whose theme was
from a trio by
Heinrich
Marschner;
Schumann later
used it as an
accompaniment to
one of his songs.
In
the F major
quartet the
scherzo and trio
form the third
movement, the slow
second movement
being in the form
of a theme and
five variations
skilfully balanced
in mood.
OP. 41 NO. 3
In
the third quartet,
in A major,
Schumann relaxes a
little and allows
himself more scope
for the kind of
romantic
expression one
expects of him.
The sighing
falling fifth of
the introduction
dominates the
first movement and
its inversion, a
rising fourth, is
the vital force in
the scherzo.
The first movement
is again concise
but this time at
the expense of the
development
instead of the
second subject,
which enjoys its
full status. In
the ingenious
recapitulation
Schumann drops his
bridge and passes
directly in the
tonic to the
second subject
after a brief
statement of the
main theme which
is recalled again
before the coda in
compensation.
The scherzo is no
less unusual,
consisting of four
variations on a
restless theme in
F sharp minor. The
third is a rocking
Adagio so
melodious that
some commentators
have suggested it
is the actual
theme making its
first appearance.
A powerful waltz,
almost orchestral
in texture,
follows before a
coda full of
melodic and
harmonic surprises
carries the
movement to a
major close.
The
boisterous
finale plays
Florestan to
the
Eusebius
of the
long expressive
Adagio in
D, worked out on
a loose
sonata-form
pattern. The Adagio's
coda lends its
dotted rhythm to
the finale`s
rondo theme
which alternates
with two
episodes before
a gavotte-like
“quasi” trio in
F. Main theme,
episodes, and
“trio” theme are
then recalled
before a long
coda which
amounts to a
terminal
development of
the rondo
subject.
THE BRAHMS
QUARTETS
The fact that
Brahms left only
three string
quartets and
delayed
publication of
the first until
1873 when he was
40 years old was
partly
Schumann’s
fault. For it
was Schumann who
first championed
the younger
composer and,
indeed, regarded
him as something
of a musical
Messiah. “This
is he that
should come,” he
wrote to their
mutual friend,
Joseph Joachim,
the violinist,
meaning that he
saw in Brahms a
worthy heir to
Beethoven’s
throne. These
sentiments he
soon made public
in his “Neue
Zeitschrift für
Musik” in 1853
when Brahms was
only 20 and had
not a published
work to his
name.
Right though
Schumann’s
predictions
were, they
placed an almost
intolerable
burden of
responsibility
on the young
Brahms in living
up to this
glowing image.
The result was a
ruthlessly
self-critical
attitude toward
his own work -
particularly in
the fields of
the symphony and
the string
quartet, those
areas in which
Beethoven was
supreme. This
does not mean
that Brahms
lacked
confidence in
his own ability:
being
Beethoven’s
equal and being
a worthy
successor were
two quite
different
things. If
he was afraid of
his works being
compared with
Beethoven’s he
was not afraid
of the shadow of
Beethoven itself
- the Op. 51
quartets in
particular
constantly
acknowledge
Beethoven openly
and frankly. Nor
was he afraid of
tackling
string-quartet
writing. We know
from his
correspondence
that he wrote
about 20 other
string quartets
before the C
minor of Op. 51
- none of which
passed his
rigorous
self-set
standards,
though many must
surely have been
masterpieces.
The Op. 51
quartets,
therefore, are
not the first he
wrote but rather
the first he
chose to let
posterity hear.
Not that he was
ever completely
satisfied with
them even after
many years of
shaping and
polishing. When
he began work on
the C minor
quartet is not
certain, but it
may have been as
early as 1865
when we find
Joachim writing
to him to ask if
a C minor
quartet with
which he was
occupied was not
yet finished for
performance.
Brahms’s
publisher
Simrock was also
anxious for some
quartets and in
June 1869 Brahms
wrote to him
from Lichtenthal
near Baden-Baden
begging his
patience and
mentioning a
possible
rehearsal. The
same month Clara
Schumann
recorded in her
diary that she
had heard two
“lovely” quartet
movements by
Brahms, one of
which was not
quite to her
taste. Whether
Brahms was
influenced more
by what he heard
in rehearsal or
by Clara’s
opinion is not
clear, but the
Op. 51 quartets
in any event
were held back
for further
amendment. Not
until 1873 and
two further
try-outs did the
composer put the
two works
resignedly in
Simrock’s hands.
Both were
dedicated to his
friend Dr.
Theodor
Billroth, a
Viennese surgeon
and talented
amateur
string-player.
Yet it seems odd
that the
dedication, of
one at least,
should not have
been to his
closer friend
Joachim,
particularly
when the second
quartet employs
thematically the
musical mottoes
the two used at
the height of
their friendship
- Joachim’s F A
E, representing
“Frei aber
einsam” (Free
but lonely), and
Brahms’s F A F,
“Frei aber froh”
(Free but
happy). This
minor mystery is
deepened by the
fact that Brahms
wrote to
Billroth
revealing the
intention to
dedicate one of
the Op. 51
quartets to him.
Brahms’s
biographer
Kalbeck formed
the not unlikely
theory that the
composer
withheld the
Joachim
dedication in a
fit of
ill-temper.
The third of the
Brahms quartets
was not so long
in the making.
It was completed
in 1875 and
published as Op.
67 the following
year, with a
dedication to
Professor
Engelmann of
Utrecht. As in
the Schumann
quartets the
third work is
different in
character from
its
predecessors.
Having met the
unspoken
challenge of
Beethoven within
himself to the
best of his
ability in Op.
51, Brahms
relaxes in a
work of almost
pastoral
character which
seems to draw
its inspiration
more from Haydn
and Mozart.
OP. 51 NOS. 1
AND 2
The opening
movements of
both Op. 51
quartets are
characteristically
built from the
smallest of
thematic bricks.
In
the C minor’s
sombre, almost
tragic first
movement
significant
motifs are
combined to form
short subject
groups rather
than longer
well-defined
themes. What
might have been
a similar tragic
atmosphere in
the A minor’s
first movement
is dispelled by
a more
traditionally
lyrical second
subject. But the
immense power
remains, lent by
the terseness of
the main theme;
this opens with
Joachim’s F A E
motto
(eventually
fused with
Brahms’s F A F
in the coda) and
provides ideal
material for
complex
contrapuntal
treatment which
makes Schumann’s
seem almost naïve.
Both slow
movements,
though rich and
imaginative, are
based on very
simple ABA
structures. The
melancholic
"Romanze" of No.
1 has two
distinct themes,
the second
inescapably
recalling the
Cavatina of
Beethoven’s Op.
130. The central
section of No.
2’s A major slow
movement is a
minor-key
developmental
episode which
opens vehemently
with violin and
cello in close
canon against
dramatic
tremolos in the
inner parts.
The scherzos do
little to
provide light
relief. The F
minor movement
of the first
quartet sidles
along so warily
and uneasily
that the
plodding pizzicati
of the simple
trio seem almost
cheerful: that
of the second,
labelled Quasi
minuetto,
moderato
is also in the
minor and more
scherzo
characteristics
are to be found
in the trio (Allegretto
vivace) in
the major. Like
a series of
Chinese boxes
this too has a
central episode
in which Brahms
recalls the
“minuetto” theme
and ingeniously
combines it with
the trio theme
in a canon four
in two.
The short
finales take
their impetus
from the
scherzos and sum
up their
respective works
both emotionally
and
thematically.
Echoes of
previous
movements are
found
everywhere. In
the C
minor finale (in
sonata-rondo
form) the unison
opening, for
instance, has
the same
stabbing rhythm
and final
falling interval
as the opening
of the first
movement while
the actual notes
are those which
begin the
“Romanze.” In
the A minor
rondo finale
there are
similar
borrowings and
one is not
surprised to
find one of the
episodes
featuring
another fusion
of the
Brahms/Joachim
mottoes. Basic
form in both
cases is freely
adapted. In
the C minor the
development is
merely a formal
gesture, for the
whole movement
is one organic
growth. The A
minor is in
three main
sections, in
which the rondo
theme and
episodes alike
occur. One of
the episodes,
appearing first
in C major,
might pass for a
second subject;
in the central
section this
appears in F and
makes its final
appearance in A
major. The main
theme is
developed in the
course of the
episodes.
OP. 67
The different
character of Op.
67 is
immediately
apparent in the
first movement
where the basic
sonata-form
contrasts are
rhythmic rather
than melodic or
harmonic. Brahms
employs three
subject groups
this time (the
second and third
presented in the
dominant and
recalled in the
tonic). The
separate
elements of the
Haydnesque first
and third groups
have quite
distinct rhythms
which Brahms
delights in
playing off
against one
another.
The restful
aria-like slow
movement in F is
again in broad
ABA form with
powerful double
stops adding
drama to the
central section
before the main
theme re-emerges
in a
violin-cello
dialogue.
The D minor
scherzo, yet
another in form
only, is really
a passionate
outpouring by
the viola with a
muted
accompaniment;
this continues
in the trio,
opening in A
minor, and rest
comes only in
the coda which
soothes the
ruffled rhythms
and coaxes the
music into a
peaceful D major
close.
The finale,
again haunted by
Haydn, is in the
form of a theme
and eight
variations. Even
so Brahms still
manages to
summarise the
whole work as he
does in Op. 51.
In
the seventh
variation the
opening theme of
the first
movement emerges
and persists,
with
reminiscences of
other movements,
to the coda
where it appears
simultaneously
with the finale
theme in
augmentation.
THE
“QUARTETTO
ITALIANO"
The "Ouartetto
Italiano” is
deservedly one
of the most
renowned
quartets of our
time. It was as
long ago as
1945, soon after
completing their
studies, that
Paolo Borciani,
Elisa Pegreffi,
Piero Farulli,
and Franco
Rossi, resisting
the tempting
promise of
individual
careers as
soloists,
decided to pool
their youthful
enthusiasm and
musical talent
and devote
themselves to
the difficult
but satisfying
art of playing
chamber music
really well. By
1947 the group
had established
a firm
reputation in
the musical
press and begun
giving concerts
outside Italy. In
1951 they
visited the
United States
for the first
time, and it was
soon apparent
that their
devotion to
their music and
the impeccable
standards of
performance they
had set for
themselves were
earning them
fame as well as
satisfaction.
Over the years
since 1945 they
have remained
together, a rare
example of
teamwork in
music and
something unique
as far as
quartets are
concerned.
Teamwork in
performance,
too, has
contributed
greatly to their
success. Their
principle of
thoroughly
memorising their
music and
playing wherever
possible without
scores has
enabled them to
perform with
astonishing
unanimity and a
precision which
is unequalled in
their field.
To list the
group’s
wide-ranging
activities in
more than 25
years is
pointless: they
have done
everything one
might expect of
one of the
world’s finest
quartets. They
have given
hundreds of
concerts all
over Europe and
in the United
States; they are
regular
participants in
the
chamber-music
concours of many
countries; and
they have played
and are in
constant demand
at such great
music festivals
as Salzburg,
Prague, Venice,
Edinburgh,
Granada,
Lucerne, and
Aix-la-Chapelle.
Outside the
concert circuit
the members
teach chamber
music at both
the Royal
Academy of Music
in Stockholm and
the
Conservatoire in
Vienna.
ln addition to
the many words
of praise
bestowed on
them -
after their
first concert in
New York, the
distinguished
critic Virgil
Thomson of the
“New York Herald
Tribune” called
them “the finest
quartet
unquestionably
that our century
has known” -
they have been
publicly
honoured by the
President of
Italy as a more
tangible
recognition of
their
outstanding
artistic
services over
the years to
Italy in
particular and
the world of
music in general.
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