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Op. 51 No 2 : 3rd movment
Quasi Minuetto, moderato
- Allegretto vivace
(modem) (isdn)
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The
famously self-critical Brahms took almost as long to produce his first
mature string quartets as he did to perfect his first symphony. Although
we know he had composed a very early Quartet in B flat which he showed
to Schumann in 1853, this was subsequently destroyed. He later claimed
to have written "more than twenty" string quartets before finally, in
1873, at the age of 40, he published two as his Opus 57. One of these
earlier efforts was a Quartet in C minor, composed in 1865-66 and then
discarded - possibly a preliminary version of Op. 51 No. 1. There is some
evidence to suggest that early forms of both the Op. 51 Quartets may have
been played over privately in 1869, and on his manuscript work-list (which
does not include unpublished compositions) Brahms noted that the Op. 51
Quartets were completed at Tutzing in the summer of 1873 "for the second
time." Further revised that year after more private try-outs, the two
Quartets were published with a dedication to Brahms's close friend, the
great surgeon and amateur quartet-player, Theador Billroth.
A theme of feverish aspiration launches the first movement, continually
surging upward only to fall. Almost immediately this first theme is interrupted
by a contrasting idea, more lyrical but full of anxious pathos, so that
there is a polarity of action and contemplation within the first subject
itself. Altogether this sombre, exhaustively contrapuntal sonata movement
is remarkably wide-ranging in its treatment of tonality and in the ceaseless,
even obsessive working-over of its salient motifs. The various elements
in the different subjects exchange contours and rhythms in a dazzling
process of combination and transformation that produces a multiplicity
of meaningful resemblances and masterly ambiguities, while the argument
oscillotes between hectic passion and a more static, but still restless,
sense of melancholy.
After this complex and disturbing movement the next two are overtly simpler
and more stable, though hardly carefree. The "Romanze", as its title indicates,
has a lyrical, song-like character, with hints of hymn and noctume: yet
the whole movement is suffused with pathos Its two alternating tunes are
hesitant, their rhythms elusive, and the harmonizations almost chokingly
close. The twilit world of the intermezzo-like third movement, with its
pair of fretful little themes, its stealthy tread and wandering tonality,
brings no real relief, although the contrasting middle section has a ghostly
charm.
The finale resumes the first movement's intensive developmental activities,
and is as strenuous in its rhythmic vigour. Indeed, its opening theme
is a clear variation of the first movement's first subject A compacted
sonata design, this dramatic finale conflates the development and recapitulation
sections in order to postpone for as long as possible - in fact, until
well into the coda - the return of the tonic key of C. Despite teasing
hints of the possibility of a major-key resolution, it is fateful C minor
that reasserts on iron grip. The last terse cadence is essentially a long-delayed
resolution of the work's very first gesture - a remarkable "closing of
the circle" which suggests the music is condemned to start over in an
endless cycle of striving.
But its companion work, Op. 51 No. 2, had already been heard in Berlin
two months before. Brahms often seems to have composed or published works
of the some genre in deliberately contrasting pairs, and the A minor Quartet
is warmer, more affirmative and relaxed then the tragic C minor. There
are no extremes here (all the tempi are "moderate" or "note too fast",
though the work's moods are hardly uncomplicated, and its compositional
craft is still highly intricate. Despite the dedication to Billroth which
it shares with the C minor Quartet, there is ample evidence that the A
minor was intended, at least on the purely musical level, as a tribute
or homage to Joseph Joachim, whose Quartet gave the Berlin premiere.
In their early twenties, during the few months they spent together as
part of the circle around Robert Schumann, Joachim and Brahms had both
adopted musical mottoes, supposedly to express their personal philosophies
of life. Joachim's was F- A-E, standing for "frei aber einsam" (free but
lonely); Brahms's, by contrast, was F-A-F, "frei aber froh" (free but
happy). The two friends had also, for several years after, engaged in
a musical correspondence, sending each other exercises in Bach and pre-Bach
canon and strict counterpoint, mainly to help Brahms develop his compositional
technique (in the early 1850s Joachim was already an established composer.)
Now, in the A minor Quartet's first movement, Brahms uses Joachim's F-A-E
cryptogram - usually prefaced with the tonica to make a four-note motif
- as a motto-theme, frequently in amicable conjunction with his own F-A-F.
The figures are combined in canon, in inversions and retrograde, and there
are prominent canonic episodes in the other movements as well. So while
the C minor Quartet has modernistic leanings in its fluid and protean
motivic developments, the A minor gives contrary hints of Baroque devices
- in the manner, say, of Bach's Musical Offering. Perhaps in one aspect,
the work is meant as a friendly demonstration of the good use to which
he had put his youthful studies.
Though these cryptic figures occur at all the important turning-points
in the fist movement's argument, the movement as a whole contains a wealth
of ideas which once again suggest Schubert rather than Beethoven - but
this time Schubert's lyrical vein, not his tragic one. They include a
suavely Viennese grazioso second subject with a lusingando (alluring)
violin counterpoint. The sonata-form movement has a comparatively brief
development section, whereas exposition and recapitulation spread themselves
in melodic exploration.
The Andante moderato, in A major, opens with a darkly pensive violin theme
which struck Brahms's contemporaries as a spontaneous lyrical outpouring,
yet aroused the admiration of Schoenberg by its intricate motivic organization.
As ever in Brahms, apparent artlessness conceals tireless artistic effort.
The subsidiary material moves into the relative minor for a dramatic 'Hungarian'-style
duet for violin and cello (actually in strict canon) against smoky tremolondi:
the main theme eventually returns in the "wrong" key, F major, and is
eased back to A by the cello. The movement closes in a spirit of uneasy
calm.
The Quasi Minuetto (in itself a reference to an archaic style) gives the
impression of sad, spiritualized dance-music, virtually removed from physical
associations despite the cello's earthy open fifths. The main Minuet idea
alternates with a scurrying, gossamer Allegretto vivace, which is itself
twice intercalated by a brief but elaborate double-canon variant of the
Tempo diminuetto. The finale retains the Minuet's 3/4 time and reshapes
its theme into a pugnacious Hungarian dance, doubtless another compliment
to Joachim. This tuneful, ebullient movement is formally quite complex,
a sonata design with elements of sonata-rondo, and is remarkable for its
wealth of cross-rhythms and Brahms' virtuosity in transforming the opening
theme. These transformations culminate in a warm major-key version for
first violin and cello (another canon!) and a slow variation in pianissimo
block chords that leads to the vivacious but severe, A minor conclusion.
Malcolm MacDonald
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