All art begins with a groping after form, then attains form, and then
emancipates itself from too great insistence upon rigidity of form
without, however, reverting to its early formless condition. It was
absolutely necessary to the establishment of music as an art that at
some period or periods in its development it should "pull itself
together" and focus itself in certain forms, and adhere to them
somewhat rigidly and somewhat tenaciously until they had been
perfected.
Without saying so in as many words, I have sought, in speaking of the
sonata, to let the modern lover of music know that if he does not like
sonatas he need not be ashamed of that fact. A few minutes ago and
before writing this sentence, I left my desk and going to the
pianoforte, played through Beethoven's "Sonata Pathetique." It used to
be a thrilling experience to play it or to hear it played. To-day the
Grave which introduces the first movement still seemed portentous, the
individual themes throughout the work had lost none of their beauty.
And yet the effect produced in earlier years by this sonata as a whole
was lacking. I shall not say that it sounded pedantic, for I dislike
to apply that word to anything that sprang from the heart and brain
of a genius like Beethoven's, but there was a feeling of restraint
about it--the restraint of set form, the restraint of pathos patterned
to measure, which is incompatible with our modern notions of absolute
freedom of expression in music. Moreover, there is ample evidence that
Beethoven himself chafed under the restraint of the sonata form and
constantly strove to make it more elastic and more yielding to his
inspiration.
What a Sonata Is.
The sonata form (that is to say, the movement from which the sonata
derives its name) consists of three main divisions and can easily be
studied by securing the Buelow and Lebert edition of the Beethoven
sonatas in Schirmer's library, in which the various divisions and
subdivisions are indicated as they occur in the music. The first
division (sometimes with a slow introduction like the Grave of the
"Sonata Pathetique") may be called the exposition. It consists of the
main theme in the key of the piece, a connecting episode, a second
theme in a related key and contrasting with the first, and a
concluding passage. As a rule the exposition is repeated--an extremely
artificial proceeding, since there is no esthetic or psychological
reason for it.
After the exposition comes the second division, the development or
"working out," a treatment of both themes with much figuration and
imitation, generally called the "free fantasia" and consisting
"chiefly of a free development of motives taken from the first part"
(Baker). This leads into the third division, which is a restatement
of the first, excepting that the second theme, instead of being in a
related key, is, like the main theme, in the tonic.
How Beethoven Enlarged the Form.
This is the form of the sonata movement which was handed down to
Beethoven by Haydn and Mozart. It very soon became apparent that the
greatest genius of the classical period found it too limited for his
inspiration. In his third sonata (Opus 2, No. 3) he makes several
innovations that, for their day, are most daring. Following the first
episode after the main theme, he introduces a second episode with
which he leads into the second theme. Then using a variant of the
first episode as a connection he leads over to a third, a closing
theme. In fact, the material of the second episode is so thematic that
I see no reason why he should not be said to use four themes in the
exposition instead of the customary two. In the free fantasia he
insistently reiterates the main theme, practically ignoring the
others, thus familiarizing the listener with it and making it as
welcome as an old friend when the third division ushers it in again.
Instead of closing the movement at the end of the usual third
division, as his predecessors, Haydn and Mozart, did, Beethoven
introduces what is one of the most important innovations grafted by
him upon the sonata form--a coda with a cadenza. I can imagine that
this movement made his contemporaries look dubious and shake their
heads. It must have seemed to them originality strained to the point
of eccentricity and more bizarre than effective. As we look back upon
it, after this long lapse of time, it must be reckoned a most
brilliant achievement in the direction of freer form, and from this
point of view--please bear in mind the reservation--its creator not
only never surpassed it, but frequently fell behind it.
One of the movements of this sonata is a scherzo. Beethoven is the
creator of this style of movement. It is much less formal than the
minuet which Haydn introduced into the sonata. This especial scherzo
has a trio which in the broad sweep of its arpeggios is as modern
sounding as anything Beethoven wrote for the pianoforte.