The study of the suite contained in the last chapter has brought us
for the first time into contact with a cyclic form. We have seen that,
as instruments developed, as the technique of playing them advanced,
and as the themes and their harmonies became more plastic, composers
naturally sought some larger plan than that afforded by a single dance
form; they thus arrived at the suite. But the suite was inclined to be
monotonous. The same key was used for all the separate movements, there
was an almost invariable stated length for each, and the rhythms were
too insistent to admit of great variety of expression. So composers
began to experiment with other forms, chief among which was the
sonata.[14]
Through all the rest of this book we shall be dealing directly or
indirectly with the musical forms that go to make up the complete
sonata. In the present chapter we shall deal with one of its simplest
and most primitive types of structure, the rondo.
Sonatas were written as far back as the seventeenth century. Kuhnau's
celebrated "Bible Sonatas," crude attempts at program music, are
among the notable examples of primitive sonatas. These were indeed
"sound-pieces," but their resemblance to a real sonata, as we
understand the term, is slight. Bach and Handel each wrote sonatas; and
some of Bach's are masterly examples of the then prevailing style. His
sonata for violin and piano in F-minor (number V in Peters' edition)
may be studied as an example of the form. It contains four movements,
the first, second, and fourth of which are purely polyphonic, the
third being one of those beautiful meditative pieces of a somewhat
rhapsodical style in which Bach seems to have specially delighted.
Italian contemporaries of Bach also wrote sonatas, and some of those
by D. Scarlatti (1683-1757) and A. Corelli (1653-1713) were of
considerable importance in the development of the form. All these early
specimens, however, were either vague and indeterminate in form, or
were hampered in their expression by the old polyphonic methods. The
modern sonata first begins to emerge in the work of Philip Emanuel
Bach, son of John Sebastian, and his compositions in this style will be
the subject of a later chapter.
I. DERIVATION OF THE RONDO.
Our investigations into the formal element of early dance music have
thus far revealed two plans, "binary" and "ternary," _i. e._, two-part
and three-part. For such short pieces as the inventions of Bach, and
for many of the separate dances in suites, the two-part form was
adequate, but when instrumental music began to develop on broader
lines, so that each of the halves was extended to a considerable
length, the advantage of the three-part form with its "restatement
after contrast" was readily perceived, and it came to be frequently
used.
Among the early experiments in form we find a kind of extension of
ternary form by the repetition of its separate parts. Such pieces
sometimes consist of but one stable phrase (A) with alternating phrases
of an indefinite character, while others alternate two set phrases,
as: A, B, A, B, A, B, A, etc. The one fixed principle in these pieces
seems to be that they should end with the phrase with which they began.
In primitive songs this fixed part constituted the chorus, with which
the solo melody alternated, having, of course, different words for each
verse.
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXII. NOUEL DE LAS FLOUS. (CAROL OF THE FLOWERS)
_Chorus._
Come with us, sweet flowers, and worship Christ the Lord,
Let your perfumes hover round the Babe adored.
_1st & 2nd Sopranos._
1. Modest violet, hiding in the grassy shade,
Thou canst say how humble He for us is made.
_Chorus._
Come with us, &c. (D.C.)
2. Lily fair, low bending in the sun's warm light,
Thou dost tell that He is pure as thou art white.
Come with us, &c.
3. As thou, Pansy, shinest forth in bright array,
So doth He His majesty to man display.
Come with us, &c.
4. As thou, Rose, wide-opening dost thy scent impart,
So His love expanding, draws each sinful heart.
Come with us, &c.
"The question is sometimes raised whether in the primitive carol the
chorus began, or whether, as in many of our own popular songs, it
waited until the end of the first solo verse. Probably the former is of
the greater antiquity; in any case, it is from it that the rondo[15] is
derived."--Hadow, "Sonata Form."
An example of this primitive type of carol will be found in Figure XXII.
This is an ancient carol from the old province of Bas-Quercy (now
Lot-et-Garonne) in the southwestern part of France.
The obvious weakness of this form, when applied to instrumental music,
is its monotony. One would soon weary of a bald repetition over and
over again of two phrases or two melodies to which no variety was
imparted, such as the change of words supplies in the foregoing carol.
In order to avoid this disadvantage the natural step to take would be
to impart, by some means or other, variety to the music; and this was
soon perceived by composers. The idea of a fixed part remained, _i. e._,
the chief musical idea was retained in its original form, but the
secondary melodies were varied. Once this change had taken place the
rondo became a frequent medium of musical expression. Specimens of the
early rondo may be found in Purcell's song, "I Attempt from Love's
Sickness to Fly," and in Bach's, "Passepied en Rondeau," from the fifth
English Suite. The formula for these two pieces is A, B, A, C, A.
Another interesting point is the plan of the harmony of the contrasting
sections in the rondo. The first of these (B) would naturally follow
the prevailing custom for "sections of contrast," and be in the
dominant, or, if the piece were in minor, in the relative major (see
Chapter II.); but the second (C) offered a further means of variety,
and the instinct of composers led them to treat it in a free manner
and not confine it to any one key. Each of the examples of rondo form
referred to above adopts this method of procedure.
While this early form of the rondo possessed a certain charm, it was
somewhat rigid in effect, since the various sections were separated
from each other by a full close or complete pause. They were like
little blocks that fitted together into a definite, if somewhat stiff
pattern.
II. A RONDO BY COUPERIN.
The primitive rondo was chiefly cultivated by the French harpsichord
composers of the early eighteenth century, of whom Couperin (1668-1733)
and Rameau (1683-1764) were the most distinguished. Reference has been
made in our chapter on "The Suite" to the "Ordres" of these composers,
and to the perfecting, at the end of the seventeenth century, of
the instrument for which they were written, the harpsichord. The
strings of the harpsichord were not struck by hammers, as in the
modern pianoforte, but plucked by quills, as the strings of a banjo
are plucked by the fingers of the player. It has been said of the
harpsichord that it produced "a scratch with a tone at the end of it."
The tone produced in this primitive way was weak and of brief duration,
so that composers not only had to keep re-enforcing a tone by striking
it again, as in the trills and other ornaments so characteristic of
their music, but had to avoid altogether any long sustained passages
such as are common in modern music. They had also to substitute for the
polyphonic style, the entire effectiveness of which depends upon the
sustainment of its melodies, a homophonic or one-voiced style which,
while distinct from that usual in modern piano music, was historically
an important factor in its development.
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 8.
_Couperin: "Les Moissonneurs" ("The Harvesters")._
This naïve and delightful piece is a good example of the prevailing
style of French domestic music in the eighteenth century. It is notable
for its character of elegance; it is _salon_ music, but at the same
time it reveals a certain mimetic quality common among the French.
The swing of its rhythm seems to catch a little of the idea conveyed
by the title. Couperin's pieces have been called "a sort of refined
ballet music," and they are, as a whole, based on well defined rhythmic
movement. But we may trace in them the gradual progress away from dance
forms and towards a freer and more idealized expression.
Couperin was called by his contemporaries "Le Grand," and was an
important figure in the musical life of Paris during the reign of Louis
XIV. His influence extended beyond France; even John Sebastian Bach
adopts some of his methods in writing his French suites.
"Les Moissonneurs" may be formally tabulated as follows:
FIGURE XXIII. STRUCTURAL PLAN OF COUPERIN'S "LES MOISSONEURS."
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| Section | Measures | Notes |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| A | [16]1-9 | Entirely in tonic key with pause |
| | | at end. (The key is B-flat major.) |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| B | 10-14 | Modulating to the dominant |
| | | and ending thereon. |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| A | 15-23 | An exact repetition of the first A. |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| C | 24-32 | Entirely in relative minor key |
| | | with pause at end. |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| A | 33-41 | An exact repetition of the first A. |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| D | 42-56 | Beginning in tonic; modulating to |
| | | C minor and back again. |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
| A | 57-65 | An exact repetition of the first A. |
+---------+-------------+-------------------------------------+
An examination of this rondo will reveal that the subsidiary
portions--B. C. and D.--are episodes rather than distinct themes.
Their melodies, instead of being entirely new as in the more highly
developed rondos of Haydn and Mozart, are either literal copies of the
chief melody, or close imitations of it, in _related keys_; so that
the chief variety imparted by them is a variety of _harmony_. The plan
of these harmonies should be carefully noted, particularly the use
of the home key in the section marked D. This method of unifying a
melody or a whole piece, by coming back to the original key at the end,
embodying as it does an important æsthetic principle, has been pointed
out several times already. We may say, then, that the structure of this
piece is "harmonic" rather than "thematic." In all instrumental music
of any consequence this harmonic element is of great importance.
The use of the word "Couplet" to describe the episodes seems to
indicate the derivation of these rondos from the old song and chorus
like the "Carol of the Flowers." In fact, one gets from this piece a
decided impression as of a fixed[17] part in somewhat rigid form, and
with comparatively full "harmonies," alternating with verses (couplets)
in which the right hand plays, as it were, a solo melody against an
unobtrusive accompaniment.
III. FROM COUPERIN TO MOZART.
This form of the rondo[18] persisted until the time of Haydn and
Mozart, and our next example for analysis is from that period. During
the century that elapsed between Couperin and Mozart the piano was so
perfected as to displace the harpsichord. The invention of the damper
pedal entirely changed the style of writing for the piano, and the
necessity for filling out the melody with elaborate ornamentation
no longer existed. The greater power and better action of the new
instruments also afforded composers a much wider scope.
But more important still, during this century Philip Emanuel Bach
(1714-1788) had written some pianoforte works that advanced the art
into a new realm. In the eighth chapter we shall study one of his
pianoforte sonatas, but it may be said here that both Haydn and Mozart
freely acknowledged their great debt to him. This study is postponed
for the moment because he did not affect the form of the rondo.
Franz Josef Haydn (1732-1809), who spent many years as Kapellmeister to
Prince Esterhazy and who, in consequence, lived more or less isolated
from the world, made many interesting experiments with musical forms.
He may be said to be the father of the symphony and the string quartet,
and several of his piano sonatas contain movements that are obviously
attempts at creating new forms or combining old ones in new ways.
His ninth[19] piano sonata, for example, has for its finale a curious
and interesting combination of the rondo and the variation form, while
the finale to the third sonata is marked "Tempo di Minuetto." Such
experiments are always to be found when we examine the work of creative
minds.
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXIV.
Haydn's sonatas thus provide us with a link in the chain that binds
Mozart to his predecessors. The foregoing quotation from Haydn's
second sonata will illustrate the primitive nature of some of his rondo
themes (Figure XXIV). This theme is, in effect, a jolly dance tune
without pretensions to dignity, and against it is placed a conventional
pattern accompaniment.
Another rondo theme from Haydn may be cited to illustrate his gentle
humor.
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXV.
This has for its first episode, or secondary theme, the following
vividly contrasting passage:
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXVI.
These two quotations illustrate the childlike naïveté of Haydn's
nature. He is never tragic; his pieces are like delightful pictures of
rural life painted by an artist who was himself country born and bred
and who feels the natural charm of the simplest, commonest things.
Haydn's pictures are flooded with sunlight.
IV. A RONDO BY MOZART.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791), aside from his supreme greatness
as a composer, represents the culmination of what is called the
"Classical" period. The tendency away from strict polyphony and towards
a free homophonic style has already been noted. It was the peasant-born
Haydn who first subordinated polyphony, producing long instrumental
pieces based on song melodies. His symphonies and string quartets are
bubbling over with melodiousness. Often frankly adopting folk tunes, or
inventing themes in the same style, he produced great works that depend
hardly at all on the interweaving of themes, but have as their basis
rather the exposition of single melodies as the _raison d'être_ of the
music. Not by any means lacking in erudition, Haydn turns to naïve
melody as his natural means of expression.
Along with this element, and as a component part of what we call
"classic," is that perfection of form and style that particularly
distinguishes the music of Mozart.
"His works are often cited as the most perfect illustrations of the
classic idea in music,--this term referring in a general way to the
absence of individualism in conformity to a general type of style and
form, naïveté as opposed to self-consciousness, symmetry of outline,
highest finish of detail, purity of sound, loftiness and serenity of
mood."--Dickinson, "The Study of the History of Music."
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 9.
_Mozart: Rondo from Piano Sonata in B-flat major._
This rondo is the last of the three movements of this characteristic
sonata. Mozart's piano sonatas seldom have more than three movements,
and of these the rondo is last, the plan being to present the more
highly organized movements first, and to end, as in the suite, with
a bright and cheerful piece. The rondos of this period were lively
and rhythmically energetic. While not essentially dance-like, they
nevertheless were ultimately derived from the dance, and lacked the
meditative and sentimental qualities to be found in slow movements.
It is from one of these two sources--the dance tune and the
folk-song--that all these sonata movements sprang. Contributory streams
entered here and there--the polyphonic influence is discernible;
Italian opera lends its fluent vocal style and occasionally its love
of display in elaborate cadenzas; and, of course, the idiom of the
piano--the peculiar manner of writing that the instrument requires--is
always present.
The first theme of this movement, for example, suggests motion; one
can almost imagine the opening section (measures 1-16) as suited to
the first evolution in a dance, and the second (beginning at measure
16) as the strain intended for a new set of dancers, while the chords
in measure 17 quite vividly suggest the steps of a dance. The left
hand part is largely in the familiar idiom of the piano of Mozart's
time, though there is occasionally polyphonic treatment--as in
measures 1-8. The various divisions of the piece are strongly marked
by cadences, sometimes preceded by formal patterns of scales, or other
meaningless passages, as at 144-147, such as Wagner likened to "the
clatter of dishes at a royal banquet." Sequences, so familiar in the
music of Bach, frequently appear here, and were, indeed, a part of the
phraseology of the time. The passage between measures 189 and 193 is,
in this respect, especially notable because of the harsh dissonance
between E-flat and D at measure 191.
The cadenza is an interesting and unusual factor in this rondo. A
cadenza always occurred in certain types of operatic arias, and in the
concerto was introduced to display the skill of the performer, but it
is unusual to find one in a rondo.
FIGURE XXVII.
STRUCTURAL PLAN OF MOZART'S RONDO IN B-FLAT MAJOR.
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| Section | Measures | Notes |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| A | 1-24 | Chief theme in two sections (1-8 and 9-24), |
| | | the last slightly extended. |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| B | 24-40 | First contrasting theme in dominant. Measures |
| | | 36-40 constitute a codetta to this section. |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| A | 41-64 | Chief theme as before, but modulating (62) |
| | | to the relative minor. |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| C | 64-111 | Second contrasting theme in two parts: 1st in |
| | | G-minor (64-75), 2nd in E-flat major (76-90). |
| | | This section is concluded by a passage in |
| | | C-minor based on motive from chief theme, and |
| | | by a codetta (105-111) similar to that in B. |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| A | 112-148 | Chief theme as before, but extended. |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| B | 148-172 | First contrasting theme now in tonic, |
| | | and with an extended codetta. |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
| A | 173-224 | Free treatment of chief theme, and other material: |
| | | motive from codetta extensively used (179-196); |
| | | cadenza (198); epilogue, or coda (213). |
+---------+----------+----------------------------------------------------+
This rondo flows on happily from beginning to end without touching
either great heights or depths. It is a good example of a style of
piano music intended more for the domestic circle than for the
concert room. It shows that "absence of individualism in conformity to
a general type of style and form" referred to by Dickinson, _i. e._,
one does not feel in listening to it the obtrusion of a personal point
of view; there are no idiosyncrasies such as are continually appearing
in more modern music. There is here also that "purity of sound" that
characterizes Mozart's music. There are no elisions, no subtleties
of musical language, no suggested meanings such as one finds, for
example, in Schumann. There is the same placidity, the same clearness
of meaning, the same lucidity of diction that we find in the poetry of
Mozart's day. Musical language was not then overlaid with secondary
significance as it has since become.
An examination of Figure XXVII will reveal a considerable advance in
this rondo over that of Couperin. The last section (A) in particular
fulfills its office of providing, as it were, a kind of _denouement_ to
the whole piece; the interest is skillfully made to center or come to
a climax here, and the stiff angularity that characterizes the older
rondo is conspicuously absent. And while the scheme of harmonies in
this rondo has many elements in common with that of "Les Moissonneurs,"
there are here excursions, by the way, into other keys giving variety
and warmth of color. But, most important of all, the recurrence of the
first contrasting theme (at measure 148) in the tonic key after having
first appeared in the dominant (measure 24) gives to this piece a real
strength, or stoutness of construction. It is as though there were
certain strands in the fabric that run entirely through it and make it
firm, whereas the Couperin rondo seems to be made by putting together a
series of little blocks.
Another important point of contrast between these two rondos is in
the matter of themes. Where Couperin has only one, which he presents
in a variety of charming forms, but from which little that is new is
evolved, Mozart has three distinct contrasting themes, and a little
codetta motive; and all these germinate, even if but slightly, into new
musical developments. The codetta passage, in particular, sprouts and
blossoms (179-196) in a most delightful manner, the little germ having
first appeared (36) as an unpromising and monotonous succession of
single notes.
We referred at some length, in the chapter on "The Dance and Its
Development," to this germination of musical thought as of the greatest
importance in composition. The reader will readily understand that the
highest form of an art like music, in which the element of time enters
as a vital matter--in which the message of the composer comes to us in
successive sounds--must depend on something more than the beauty of
its several and successive melodies. In the first place, the limit of
such a succession would soon be reached; the mind, after having taken
in a certain number of melodies, would lose track of the first ones and
be left in utter confusion. The obvious device of repeating the first
phrase or melody at the point where, otherwise, this confusion would
result, has been the determining motive of many of the simple forms we
have thus far studied. But this, after all, is a primitive method, and
it is obvious that its possibilities are limited. The rondo is, in
effect, the furthest point to which this plan can go.
The fundamental quality in anything living--be it the state, the
church, the family or the human body--is organism, the relation of all
the parts to the whole. So in the greatest music as in the greatest
literature, everything germinates from certain fundamental ideas,
and nothing is extraneous. This rondo of Mozart represents a certain
tendency of his to string beautiful melodies together--for his fund of
melodies was well nigh inexhaustible. But he was too great a master not
to see the weakness of such a procedure, and in works like his G-minor
symphony he has left nearly perfect examples of this higher form of
musical development;--perfect, that is, within his own horizon--a wider
view was to unfold itself from that height to which Beethoven finally
struggled.
SUGGESTIONS FOR COLLATERAL READING.
_Parry: "The Evolution of the Art of Music," pp. 52 and 241. Dickinson:
"The Study of the History of Music," Chapter XIV. Goetschius: "The
Homophonic Forms of Musical Composition," p. 203. Mason: "Beethoven and
His Forerunners," Chapter IV. Hadow: "Sonata Form," Chapter IX._
LIST OF SUPPLEMENTARY PIECES FOR STUDY.
_Haydn: Finale of Sonata in D-major, No. 7 (Schirmer Ed.)._ _Finale of
Sonata in D-major, No. 9 (Schirmer Ed.)._ _Mozart: Finale of Sonata in
F-major, No. 17 (Schirmer Ed.)._
FOOTNOTES:
[14] Sonata, originally from Italian "Suonare," to sound, as Cantata
was from Italian "Cantare," to sing. Later the word Sonata took on a
more precise meaning, which we shall study in later chapters.
[15] The name "Rondo" (Fr. "Rondeau") is derived from "round," and its
application to pieces of the type we are considering was due to the
constant recurrence of one principal melody.
[16] The first partial measure and all the other half measures where
the double bars occur are counted separately, making 65 measures in the
whole piece.
[17] The fixed part (A) in the Rondo of this period usually entered
but three times instead of four as is the case here. Couperin's "La
Bandoline" (in "Les Maitres du Clavecin") is another example of the
extended form of the Rondo.
[18] Pauer's "Alte Meister" (Breitkopf and Härtel) contains several
interesting Rondeaus by Couperin and Rameau. "Les Maitres du Clavecin,"
edited by Kohler (Litolff), Vols. X and XI, may also be consulted.
[19] The numbers referred to here are those of the Schirmer edition.
CHAPTER VII.
THE VARIATION FORM--THE MINUET.
The process of musical development we have been considering in previous
chapters has tended gradually but surely towards freedom of expression
and, at the same time, definiteness of form. As this process has
advanced, melodies have become less and less constrained, yet the forms
themselves have crystallized into certain accepted types. The ideal
of all this progress was unity and variety; in other words, composers
felt the desire to expand their powers of expression and saw that this
expansion must in the nature of things conform to certain æsthetic
principles and obey certain laws. Mere luxuriance of speech without
order or system means confusion; but order and system without living
feeling means aridity. These two elements must go hand in hand, and in
the music of masters like Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms they do.
The so-called variation form admirably illustrates these tendencies.
From its very beginning down to the present day there has been a
constant re-adjustment of its expressiveness and its formal interest; a
constant attempt to strike the right balance between the two qualities.
The form is almost as old as music itself. From the earliest times
composers have felt the necessity of varying their tunes by one device
or another. Even before the other primitive forms had crystallized,
crude variations existed, and we find old hymn tunes or popular songs
repeated over and over again with elaborate changes of phraseology or
with contrapuntal devices. Certain arid processes--such as writing
a tune backwards--were sometimes employed, and a study of the whole
range of the variation form in its early stages reveals a constant
fluctuation.
I. VARIATIONS BY JOHN BULL.
Among the most interesting of these early attempts to solve the problem
are certain pieces by the English composers for the harpsichord
who lived in the latter part of the sixteenth century. John Bull
(1563-1628), a chorister in the Chapel Royal of Queen Elizabeth, was
one of the most famous of these, and he has left us several pieces
in variation form, one of which, "Courante Jewel," is well worth our
attention.
The courante (Fr. _courir_, to run) is one of the old dance forms
that became imbedded in the suite, where it followed the opening[20]
Allemande. This particular example of the courante illustrates the
habit, common at that time, of writing pieces based on well known
dance rhythms such as we have studied in Chapters IV and V. Composers
attempted to provide further interest in their pieces by giving them
special titles. We find, for example, one of Byrd's harpsichord pieces
called "Galiardo, Mrs. Mary Brownlo," and one of Bull's entitled
"Pavana, St. Thomas Wake." This tendency in English music towards
definiteness of idea, and away from all that is vague, has been already
noted in our chapter on "Folk Songs."
The "Courante Jewel" is an interesting example of a form of variation
that has now become practically obsolete. It consists of four separate
melodies, each immediately followed by its variation. The plan might be
expressed by the following formula: A, a; B, b; C, c; D, d, the large
letters representing the themes and the small letters the variations.
The first theme begins as follows:
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXVIII. From first theme of Bull's "Courante Jewel."
The complete theme is sixteen measures long and is divided off into
phrases of regular length. This is immediately followed by the
variation, the corresponding portion of which will be found in Figure
XXIX.
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXIX. Part of the variation.
In Figure XXX are shown the first phrases of the second, third and
fourth melodies, in order that the reader may see how distinct is each
one.
[Music: score]
II
[Music: score]
III
[Music: score]
IV
FIGURE XXX.
This little piece illustrates what has been already said about freedom
of expression. It does not impress us as strictly dance music; it
is manifestly written for its own sake and represents that natural
tendency to create something beautiful which underlies art everywhere.
But in respect of order and design we find here a decided weakness.
Four separate and successive ideas, each followed by an elaboration
of itself, would make a poor model for any art. One feels a sense of
vagueness after listening to a piece so constructed; no single idea
dominates; one longs for some point upon which the attention may be
centered.
II. A GAVOTTE AND VARIATIONS BY RAMEAU.
Pauer's "Alte Meister," Vol. I, contains another interesting
experiment in the variation form, a "Gavotte and Variations" by Rameau
(1683-1764). The opening phrase of this Gavotte runs as follows:
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXXI. First phrase of Gavotte by Rameau.
In the variation of the above, which will be found in Figure XXXII,
the theme is presented less definitely than in the original, while the
upper part in sixteenth notes makes a kind of free counterpoint.
[Music: score]
FIGURE XXXII. First phrase of Variation by Rameau.
What has been said in our last chapter of Couperin's harpsichord
pieces applies to these variations of Rameau. There is in them a kind
of refinement and delicacy that characterizes all the French music of
that period. The theme itself is less naïve than that of the "Courante
Jewel," and more suggestive of the slow movement themes of the sonatas
of later composers. In fact, this has in it little of the real Gavotte,
its meditative quality is too strong and its rhythms too weak.
These two compositions admirably illustrate the general striving for
some ordered means of expression in secular music that characterizes
the seventeenth century. It was a time of groping. Sacred music had
largely occupied the attention of composers, and few paths had been
opened for those who desired other means of expression, so that the
problem of secularization was the all-important one. It must also
be kept in mind that this particular advance could not take place
until musical instruments and the technique of playing them had
been perfected. As late as 1571 Ammerbach's "Orgel oder Instrument
Tabulatur" was published, forbidding the use of _either the thumb or
little finger_ in organ playing, and writers of the seventeenth century
speak of certain uses of the thumb in playing as "daring innovations."
Couperin in his "L'Art de Toucher le Clavecin," published in Paris in
1717, advocates a system of fingering that still uses the thumb in a
clumsy manner, and it was not until John Sebastian Bach's method of
tuning by "equal temperament" and his new system of fingering came into
use that music for the harpsichord and clavichord was freed from the
old incubus of an awkward mechanical technique. For it is obvious that
an art can never reach anything like perfection as long as its working
materials are inadequate. In piano playing, for example, one could
not use chords spread out far beyond the grasp of the hands until the
sustaining pedal had been invented. While these conditions existed,
composers naturally turned their attention to sacred music and to the
opera, where there were fewer limitations.
Among the many examples of the variation form produced in the time of
Couperin and Rameau the most important are those of Bach and Handel.
Since we are here dealing with the precursors of the sonata and
symphony and with the development of homophonic music, we shall not
discuss Bach's celebrated "Goldberg Variations," which are masterly
examples of his intricate and vivid polyphony, but shall turn to a set
of variations in more modern form by Handel. The reader may, however,
consult the second Sarabande accompanying Chapter V for an example of
Bach's method of elaborating a given theme.
III. HANDEL'S "HARMONIOUS BLACKSMITH."
Our chapter on the suite has given the order in which the various
dances usually appeared, and mention was there made of the exceptions
occasionally to be found among the works of adventurous composers.
George Frederic Handel (1685-1759) composed a set of "Suites de Piéces
pour le Clavecin" containing several movements not usually found in
the suite form. Among these are "Allegros," "Prestos," and "Arias con
Variazioni," while in Handel's "Sonatas" are to be found sarabandes,
gavottes, and bourreés. In other words, the suite and the sonata, as
conceived by Handel, are more or less convertible forms; it is not
until the next generation that the modern sonata begins to emerge in
the pianoforte works of Philip Emanuel Bach. (See Chapter VIII.) These
distinctive pieces represent the groping of composers after some new
and more flexible medium of expression than that provided by stiff
dance forms. And this same fundamental principle of growth is what,
many years later, led Beethoven to enlarge the scope of the sonata,
and still later produced the symphonic poem of Liszt and other modern
composers.
Each phase of an art has its culmination where a medium becomes
perfected--and therefore exhausted; where the flower blooms and dies.
This point is reached when some great master unites in his works two
essential qualities complementary to each other, namely, the idea and
its formal investiture. Such a point was reached in Bach's Fugues, in
Mozart's Symphonies, and in Beethoven's String Quartets; in all these
the two great elements of perfection were united. In Mozart's G-minor
Symphony, for example, the thing said, and the manner of saying it--the
design, the orchestral expression, etc.--are identical, but in the
instrumental works of Handel the matter was still in process.
"The Harmonious Blacksmith" is in the fifth of the "Suites de Piéces
pour le Clavecin," commonly known as "Lessons," and composed for
Princess Anne, Handel's royal pupil, daughter of the Prince of Wales.
This suite consisted of the following pieces:--I. Prelude, II.
Allemande, III. Courante, IV. Air.
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 10.
_Handel: "The Harmonious Blacksmith,"
from the Fifth Suite for Clavichord._
The biographies of Handel give several versions of the story supposed
to be connected with this little piece. It seems to be quite certain
that the composer never used the title, and that it has one at all
is probably due to the fact that the public seems to like a piece
better if it is supposed to be "about" something. Many similar uses of
supposititious titles will occur to the reader, as, for example, the
"Moonlight" sonata of Beethoven, and the "Rain-drop" prelude of Chopin,
neither of which grotesque names was ever sanctioned by the composer.
If this tune of Handel's ever was sung by a burly smith at his forge he
was indeed an "harmonious" blacksmith. In any case, it is a matter of
record that the identical anvil was finally "discovered" by a Mr. Clark
and found a resting place as a curio in an "Egyptian Hall" in London.
The tune itself has qualities familiar enough to students of Handel's
instrumental music. Its final cadence, in particular, is thoroughly
Handelian, and all through it there is that decisive and assertive
manner that characterizes the melodies of this great man. There is
nothing of the mystic about Handel; his oratorios and nearly all his
smaller pieces have a straightforward and uncompromising style. He
never gropes; his music speaks of an unfaltering self-confidence,
unclouded by doubts.
The methods of treatment in the variations is a simple one. The
harmonies remain the same throughout, while the melody is changed in
various ways. In variation I, for example, the first two notes of the
original melody have been made into an arpeggio, or broken chord, and
this treatment persists throughout. In variation II the melody loses
something of its physiognomy, and is only suggested by occasional
notes in the upper or lower part for the right hand, while the left
hand plays a familiar pattern accompaniment. Variation III plays
lightly with the original theme, hovering around it with delicate scale
passages.
This variation illustrates an important principle of musical
appreciation. Played by itself, without reference to what has preceded
it, it would be so lacking in definiteness as to be uninteresting; its
connection with the original theme, however, lends to it a certain
charm and significance. So in the longer instrumental pieces of the
great masters who followed Handel, we find whole sections whose
meaning depends on their relation to what has preceded them, and
our appreciation of the significance of such passages is in exact
proportion to our powers of co-ordinating in our own minds these
various sections of a work, often separated from each other by a
considerable lapse of time.
The fourth variation is like an inversion of the third, the left hand
now taking the rapid scale passages. Variation V is the least definite
of them all, being made of scales played against chords that dimly
outline the original melody.
"The Harmonious Blacksmith" is not a highly developed piece of music,
for it lacks one essential element--in an instrumental piece as long
as this there should be some _germination_. The several variations of
this melody are merely slightly altered versions of the original idea;
in highly developed specimens of this form each variation is a new
creation germinated from the parent thought.
IV. HAYDN'S ANDANTE WITH VARIATIONS IN F-MINOR.
Reference has already been made in our chapter on "The Rondo" to the
great advance in pianoforte music brought about by Philip Emanuel
Bach and Haydn, but Haydn's Andante with Variations in F-minor is
still more mature than any of the pieces to which we referred. In
fact, this Andante is Haydn's most charming pianoforte piece, uniting
as it does the best of his qualities. It is the first composition in
homophonic style we have studied in which the interest of the listener
is constantly engaged from beginning to end. There are here no bald
repetitions, as in the Rondo of Mozart, no meaningless accompaniment
figures, no conventional endings, but from first to last Haydn tempts
us onward by constantly unfolding new beauties, yet never leaves us
vaguely wandering, doubtful of our starting point. In short, this
andante is a fine example of a well organized piece of music; it is
full of variety, yet its unity is unmistakable.
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 11.
_Haydn: Andante with Variations in F-Minor._
It is unusual for a variation theme to be in two distinct parts, as
is the case here. The chief theme in F-minor is followed by a "trio"
theme in F-major of quite a distinct character. This is one of the many
interesting experiments of Haydn in devising new forms or combining old
ones. The weakness of this arrangement is that the whole theme is a
little too long; it lacks the conciseness that is necessary to a theme
that is to be treated in a long series of variations. The trio theme is
also less interesting than the first theme and does not lend itself so
readily to variations.
An important principle of musical development is involved here. It will
be found from an examination of the music of the great composers that
the most perfect lyric melodies do not germinate, whereas themes like
the first theme of this andante, the first theme of Beethoven's Fifth
Symphony--which are not by any means beautiful lyric melodies--are
pregnant with possibilities. Any perfect melody like "Annie Laurie,"
for example, is a complete thing; nothing can be added to it or taken
away from it. The two themes just mentioned, on the contrary, are made
up of motives which are characterized by some individual quality and
which contain certain potentialities that are realized only as the
piece progresses. And in general it may be noted that the distinctly
lyric composers, such as Schubert, Schumann, and Grieg, have not been
conspicuously successful in those larger forms where this principle is
most operative.
The little motive of five notes with which the right hand part of the
andante by Haydn begins illustrates this. There is hardly a measure of
the original theme and of its variations in which this motive is not
heard, and the variety Haydn imparts to it is quite remarkable. The
trio theme, on the other hand, is more lyric--more song-like, and, as a
consequence, we find the variations consist of elaborate ornamentations
of the theme rather than of new ideas germinated from it.
Variation I is a particularly interesting example of Haydn's style. The
syncopation in the right hand part, with its delicacy of utterance,
and its occasional tender poignancy (as at measure 52) gives to
this portion of the piece an unusual charm. The transposition of
the syncopation to the left hand (at measure 56) is particularly
interesting because of the delicate dissonances that result. The
passage at measures 83-88 might almost have been written by Rameau or
Couperin, so full is it of trills and other ornaments. This is in the
old harpsichord style of the generation before Haydn.
Variation II preserves the harmony of the original theme, but supplants
its melody by a fluent and interesting passage in sixteenth notes that
passes at will from one hand to the other.
These two free variations, through which the original theme has dimly
shone, are now succeeded by a finale, so called, in which the theme is
presented in its simple form as if to bring the listener home again
after his excursions afield. And here, it should be specially noted,
Haydn omits all reference to the trio theme, as if conscious of its
inferiority. The whole finale (from measure 147) is a kind of dramatic
summing up of the story, and serves much the same purpose as that of
the restatement in ternary form.
The passage between measures 195 and 200 is an interesting example of
a process common in pure music. Here the motive of three notes (in
right hand), derived from the original five note motive in measure 1,
gradually loses its physiognomy until its characteristic outline has
entirely disappeared and it has become a purely conventional figure. A
celebrated example of this process is shown in Figure XXXIII from the
first movement of Beethoven's String Quartet, op. 59, No. 1.
[Music: score]
First phrase of Theme from Beethoven's Quartet, op. 59, No. 1.
[Music: score]
Passage from Development Section.
FIGURE XXXIII.
The passage from which the second of the quotations is taken is one
of the most beautiful in all chamber music, and the whole development
section in this wonderful movement will repay the closest study.
Haydn's andante ends with a few tender allusions to the persistent
motive of the original theme, which faintly echoes in pathetic cadence.
Such passages endear Haydn to us because of their genuineness. There is
nothing false in his sentiment; he is always straightforward, he always
writes unaffectedly. Among the great composers he stands apart as a
simple-hearted man, who was without guile, and who retained to the end
of his life the same childlike naïveté.
V. THE MINUET.
The general characteristics of dances like the minuet, gavotte, etc.,
have been referred to in Chapter IV, where the inclusion of the minuet
in the sonata and symphony of the classical period was noted. We are
here chiefly concerned with the effect of this inclusion on the minuet
itself and with its status in the group of movements that made up the
cyclic form.
The minuet is a dance of French origin, characterized by stateliness
and grace. The earliest music written for it consisted of one melody
containing two eight measure phrases. These were gradually lengthened,
and finally a second minuet was added as in the gavotte. Bach used
the minuet sparingly in his suites. The reader is referred to the
fourth English Suite, which contains a minuet followed by minuet II,
not called "Trio." Handel occasionally incorporates the minuet in his
suites and frequently uses it as the last movement in his oratorio
overtures. All these old minuets were in slow tempo, but the desire
for freedom of expression impelled composers not only to expand them
in various ways, but, finally, to increase their speed. This important
change was doubtless largely inspired by the desire for contrast in
the movements of the symphony, for in the sonatas of Haydn and Mozart
we find the middle movement usually an andante or adagio, and when the
minuet[21] is incorporated it is in slow tempo.
Practically all the minuets of Bach and Handel as well as those of
the Haydn-Mozart-Beethoven period were written in what we have called
"simple ternary form," the second minuet, or trio, constituting the
middle section, B. Occasionally a minuet with two trios appears, in
which case the form becomes A, B, A, C, A. Marches (which are commonly
in simple ternary form) are quite frequently written with two trios,
the most familiar example being the well known wedding march by
Mendelssohn.
The symphonic minuet is the only relic of the suite retained in the
sonata and symphony. The changes it underwent through this promotion
from the ranks of the old dances were not only changes of tempo, but
of spirit or essence. For whereas it had been demure, conventional,
and stately, as if pervaded by a kind of courtly grace, it became in
Haydn's time a wayward, humorous, and even frolicsome member of musical
society, and provided a certain lightness and spontaneity much needed
in the sober symphonic family.
The reader is urged to consult any of the minuets to be found in the
string quartets or symphonies of Haydn and Mozart. These popular short
movements are so available in arrangements for the piano that it is not
thought necessary to incorporate one here.
SUGGESTIONS FOR COLLATERAL READING.
_Grove's Dictionary: articles "Minuet," "Sonata," and "Symphony."
Shedlock: "The Pianoforte Sonata." Mason: "Beethoven and His
Forerunners."_
FOOTNOTES:
[20] In Bach's English Suites a Prelude is placed before the Allemande.
[21] See the Minuet in Haydn's piano sonata in E-flat (No. 3 in
Schirmer edition) and the Minuet in Mozart's well known piano sonata in
A-major (with the Theme and Variations).
CHAPTER VIII
SONATA-FORM I.
I. COMPOSITE NATURE OF THE SONATA.
Undoubtedly the most important of all musical forms to-day is the
sonata, as will easily be recognized if we remember that not only
the pieces which bear this name as a title, but also the numerous
symphonies, overtures, concertos, and trios, quartets, quintets, and
so on, are examples of this form. The symphony is simply a sonata,
on a large scale, for orchestra; the overture is a similar piece for
orchestra, in one movement; the concerto is, as it were, a symphony
with a solo instrument emphasized or placed in the foreground; trios,
quartets, quintets, etc., are sonatas for various groups of string
and wind instruments. Thus it will be seen that the bulk of all
instrumental music is cast in this ever available and useful form of
the sonata.
At this point, however, a confusion is likely to arise from the fact
that the term "sonata" is used in two senses. It means sometimes a
complete piece of music in three or more distinct movements; at other
times it means a scheme or plan of musical structure exemplified in one
or more of these movements, usually the first. When used in this sense
it is generally coupled with the word "form": this is the way in which
we shall use it here, letting "sonata-form" mean this peculiar type of
musical structure, to be described in detail presently, while using
"sonata" alone to name a complete composition of which one or more
movements are in "sonata-form."
The sonata, as written by Philip Emanuel Bach, Haydn, Mozart,
Beethoven, and modern composers, usually contains some movements in
forms more primitive than "sonata-form," and already familiar to us.
Thus the minuet, which often appears as the second or third movement
of a sonata, has changed little since Mozart's day; the rondo,
frequently used in the finale of a sonata, remains in all essentials as
it is presented in the last diagram of Chapter VI; and the theme and
variations, so far as its formal plan is concerned, has remained very
much as Haydn left it, although, in common with the rondo, it has been
vastly enriched in content and diversified in style by the genius of
Beethoven.
II. ESSENTIALS OF SONATA-FORM.
The element of true novelty in sonatas is to be found, not in
these primitive movements, but rather in those movements which are
in "sonata-form," and which show a breadth of conception and an
elaboration in development never found in simple lyric forms like
the minuet. This breadth and elaboration is always the result of
a germination of musical thought, such as we have already often
mentioned, and by virtue of which alone a composition can take on real
grandeur of proportions. The essentials of sonata-form are (1) the
presentation of two or more themes or subjects in that section known
as the Exposition, and symbolized in our diagrams by the letter A;
(2) the evolution of these themes, by means of melodic germination,
in that section known as the Development, and symbolized by B;
and (3) the restatement of the original themes, rounding out the
movement symmetrically, in the section known as the Recapitulation,
and symbolized again by A on account of its practical identity with
the Exposition. It matters not which movement of a sonata takes this
characteristic form, whether, as in the majority of cases, it is the
first (whence the term "first-movement form," often used as a synonym
for "sonata-form") or the slow movement, as often happens, or the
finale. Wherever sonata-form exists we find this three-part sectional
structure, resulting from the natural germination in the middle section
of the musical ideas stated in the first, followed by their restatement
in the third section.
The reader may ask at this point, in what respect such a form differs
from the simple ternary form illustrated in a minuet, for example,
wherein the second section usually contains some development of the
theme, and the third some recapitulation. The answer is that in the
sonata-form the enlargement of the proportions throughout results,
first, in the substitution of complete and more or less contrasting
themes, for the rather slight musical subject of a minuet, and second,
in the substitution of a long and elaborate development of these
themes for the rather casual and superficial modification of the
subject which forms the second section of a minuet. Moreover, in the
sonata-form a novel feature is the contrast introduced by making the
first section embody duality of key (first theme in tonic, second in
related key) while the third section, by presenting both themes in
the tonic, embodies unity of key. Nevertheless it remains true that
sonata-form is, both logically and historically, a development of such
simple forms as we have in the minuet, as is indicated by the name of
"developed ternary form" often given to it.[22]
Sonata-form is thus but an extreme application of certain essential
principles of structure exemplified in simple ways in other more
primitive musical forms, and for that matter in many other departments
of life. It is perhaps not over-fanciful to discover the same
principles in the construction of a novel, in which we often find:
first, the presentation of certain characters, more or less in
antagonism; second, the development of the plot and of the characters
themselves; and third, the reconciliation of the characters in the
_denouement_. Similarly, a sermon consists of (1) the assertion of a
text or subject of discourse, (2) the illustration of its truth by
examples and other elucidations of what is implied in it, and (3) a
final restatement of it with the greater force made possible by its
discussion. Or again, we may see striking analogies to the artistic
form we are considering in such processes of nature as the budding,
flowering, and death of a plant, or in human life with its youth, its
period of activity, and its time of retrospect.
III. A SONATA BY PHILIP EMANUEL BACH.
Sonata-form, historically speaking, first takes definite shape in the
work of Philip Emanuel Bach (1714-1788), the most distinguished of
the sons of the great Sebastian Bach. Though not a man of the highest
creative genius, C. P. E. Bach possessed an ingenuity and a pioneering
spirit which led him to make innovations so important that Haydn and
Mozart freely acknowledged their debt to him. Feeling that music in
the polyphonic style had reached its full development, he was original
and adventurous enough to seek new means of expression and a novel
combination of features of style already familiar.
In order to understand the situation that confronted him we must put
aside temporarily the impressions we have received from the Andante
of Haydn and the Rondo of Mozart, since both these compositions were
produced at a time when his influence had already made itself felt.
He had to face the problem of writing instrumental music that should
be free from the constraining influence of the dance, of polyphonic
style, and of the elaborately ornamented style of operatic music. He
had also to find out how to unify a long piece of instrumental music
by co-ordinating all its parts. The only solution of these problems
lay in inventing what might be called _pure instrumental melody_:
_i. e._, melody that was essentially expressive in the particular
medium employed--the piano, the violin, the orchestra--and that was
unhampered either by strict poetic or dance forms, or by the peculiar
phraseology of polyphony. He did not, to be sure, entirely achieve
this; we find evidences of both the older styles in his music. But an
examination of any instrumental masterpiece of Beethoven will reveal
how much he owed to the pioneer labors of C. P. E. Bach.
We must here caution the reader against the supposition that music
at this particular time leaped suddenly forward. The tendencies that
we have been speaking of were latent long before Philip Emanuel Bach
appeared, and there was no strict line of demarcation where one kind of
music stopped and another began. Organic development never progresses
in that way; each phase of it begins slowly, becomes eventually
operative, and dies as slowly as it began. And there were other
composers working at that time on the same problems; composers who were
of considerable importance then, but whose names are now forgotten.
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 12.
_Philip Emanuel Bach: Piano Sonata_[23] _in F-Minor, First Movement._
This Sonata has three movements: 1. Fast (Allegro assai); 2. Slow
(Andante cantabile); 3. Slow (Andantino grazioso). The third of these
is marked "attacca" to indicate that the usual pause between the
movements is to be omitted. In the second and third movements the
themes themselves and their treatment reveal the tentative nature of
Bach's efforts. Each of these themes is over-embellished; each has
something of the vagueness usual in piano music of his time, and yet
there is a distinct tendency towards definite, strophic melody such as
is common in the sonatas of Haydn and Mozart.
But the first movement of this sonata of Philip Emanuel Bach's is quite
remarkable. Its theme is definite, its phraseology clear and concise,
and its form well rounded. In fact a comparison of the opening measures
with those of the theme from Beethoven's first sonata will reveal a
decided similarity. Beethoven's theme is constructed from a figure or
phrase, ascending like an arpeggio higher and higher, until a climax is
reached, after which the melody dies down to a pause or half cadence
on the dominant chord. This is precisely what happens with the theme
of Philip Emanuel Bach, although the second half of the theme is more
regular than Beethoven's, the complete melody being in what might be
called "verse form," each two-measure phrase corresponding to a line of
verse.
More important still, however, is the quality of the melody itself.
It is distinctly in the style suitable for the piano; there is no
evidence of the old song melody, nor of polyphonic phraseology, nor
of dance tunes. This is, in short, one of the earliest examples of
pure pianoforte music, using the term in a modern sense. Another
interesting point in this movement is the presence of two contrasting
themes in the Exposition. "The principle of alternately stating
two contrasting themes, which found its ultimate expression in the
successive presentation of first and second subjects, had been familiar
to the musical world as long as minuets and trios, gavottes, musettes,
and the like, had been in vogue, but the process by which the two
subjects are allowed to be interwoven with each other, or to generate,
as it were, new material having its origin in something that has gone
before, opened out a world of fresh possibilities to the composers of
the later times, and gave them opportunities which had been altogether
withheld from Bach and his contemporaries." "Oxford History of Music,"
Vol. IV, p. 141. The two themes constitute the material out of which
the whole movement grows or germinates, so that they somewhat resemble
characters in a story, and this analogy is further carried out in the
quality of the themes themselves, the first being usually vigorous
and to a certain degree non-lyric, while the second is lyric and more
sentimental; as if one were masculine and the other feminine.
But in this movement of Philip Emanuel Bach's Sonata the second theme
is hardly more than an embryo. It begins at measure 16, and occupies
only ten measures, the last five of which are somewhat vague and
rhapsodical. Thus its entire effect is somewhat indefinite, and if we
compare it with the second theme of any modern sonata we shall realize
that it is very imperfectly individualized. The second theme did not
become an essential and distinct element of sonata-form until somewhat
later; in Philip Emanuel Bach, and even in many movements of Haydn, it
remains completely subordinate to its more important companion, the
first theme. Following the second theme--at measure 26--a coda ensues.
This important factor in musical form has been already referred to in
our chapters on "The Rondo" and "The Variation." Its office here is
the same as in former examples, namely, to round out this part of the
movement properly and to emphasize the close of the first section.
The exposition (A) extends through measure 34 and is concluded with
a double-bar. During the period from Philip Emanuel Bach to Mozart
this portion of the movement was always repeated in order to make it
perfectly familiar to the listener. The development section begins
immediately after the double-bar and extends to the point where the
first theme returns in its original form; in this movement that point
is reached at measure 66. We have already pointed out certain simple
methods of generation in music, as in the Bach Gavotte discussed in
Chapter IV, but we now have to consider the growth of a long section of
a composition from certain germs contained in the original theme. And
this brings up an important question: How do musical themes generate?
In the Bach Gavotte a brief phrase of one measure duration blossoms out
into a passage six measures long. This may be observed by reference to
Figure XXXIV, in which (a) represents the original phrase and (b) the
expansion of it.
[Music: score]
(_a._)
[Music: score]
(_b._)
FIGURE XXXIV.
This development, however, is hardly more than an extension of the
original phrase. For the purposes of sonata-form something more radical
and far reaching, something more like new creation is necessary.
Without going into detail[24] we may be content with pointing out
the essential principle of this more radical development. Analysis
shows that it always depends on the selection of certain salient
characteristics of the original themes and representation of them under
new guises, or under new conditions.
Just as a novelist develops his characters by letting their fundamental
peculiarities manifest themselves in all sorts of ways and among all
kinds of circumstances, meanwhile paying but scant attention to their
more accidental or superficial traits, so the composer of a sonata
seizes upon whatever is individual in his themes--a strong rhythm,
a peculiar turn of phrase, a striking bit of harmony--and repeats
and insists upon it tirelessly, with whatever variation of minor
details his ingenuity may suggest. An examination of this process of
generation in the works of Haydn and Mozart will make these important
points clear. In Figure XXXV (a), is shown a brief quotation from
the beginning of the first movement of Haydn's Symphony in D-major.
Although this theme has no pronounced rhythmic figures the four
repeated notes in measure 3 are unusual in a simple melody of this
type, and Haydn chooses them (with the first two notes in the next
measure) as the first subject of his development section.
[Music: score]
(_a_)
[Music: score]
(_b_)
FIGURE XXXV.
At _b_ in the above quotation will be found a short passage from the
beginning of the development section of the same movement. This passage
illustrates the detachment of a characteristic motive in a melody, and
here the use of it in various keys as a means of setting forth, as it
were, its latent possibilities. Here a certain element in the theme is
freed and takes on an existence of its own, and until the very end of
the section we hear it over and over again in different parts of the
orchestra.
[Music: score]
(_a_)
[Music: score]
(_b_)
[Music: score]
(_c_)
FIGURE XXXVI.
The methods of germination employed by Haydn in the foregoing
illustration were typical of his time. Mozart commonly relies, in his
development sections, on the interest provided by presenting some
salient motive in a variety of keys and with polyphonic treatment.
Examples of this are to be found in Figure XXXVI, containing (a) the
original motive from the first movement of his string quartet in
C-major, dedicated to Haydn, and (b), (c), short excerpts from the
development section of the same movement.
It will be observed that in (b), the viola imitates the first violin
while the second violin and 'cello reiterate the four eighth-notes of
the original motive, and that, in (c), the 'cello takes the motive,
while each of the three upper parts sounds the eighth-notes, staccato;
the contrasts of key should also be observed. This is a very concise
and logical example of the methods of generation employed by Haydn and
Mozart.
The first theme of the movement by Philip Emanuel Bach has two salient
qualities: it progresses by leaps upward, and it has a peculiarly
noticeable rhythm. These two properties are brought into play almost
immediately. After a brief statement of the opening phrase of the theme
(36-39) in the relative major key--as if to tell us what is to be the
subject of this part of the movement--the composer proceeds to evolve
a passage (40-44) with chords (in the right hand) in the rhythm of the
theme, and against them (in the left hand) a passage containing the
leaps upward. This is further varied by free changes in harmony.
The initial phrase of the first theme and a brief quotation from this
passage in the development section are shown in Figure XXXVII.
This development is, however, all too short. After measure 44 the
music becomes discursive, showing no longer any definite bearing on the
original subject matter.
[Music: score]
(_a_)
[Music: score]
(_b_)
FIGURE XXXVII
This discursiveness is a natural characteristic of the formative period
in the evolution of sonata-form, before composers had learned the
necessity of a close logical development throughout.
The "restatement after contrast" in sonata-form is commonly known
as the "recapitulation." In the early specimens of the form the
recapitulation was, except in its harmonies, almost identical with the
exposition. Here the first theme is reduced to one half its original
length, which is rather an unusual abbreviation. Mr. Hadow, in his
"Sonata Form," lays down the following rule for this portion of the
movement: "The recapitulation should not contain any noticeably fresh
material; it should follow the main thought of the exposition with no
important parentheses or divergences, and, when it varies, should do so
in a manner which does not obscure the subjects, but only sets them in
a new light."
In Figure XXXVIII is shown the foregoing plan in the form of a diagram.
This should be compared with the similar diagrams in Chapter IX.
FIGURE XXXVIII. TABULAR VIEW OF SONATA-FORM, OR FIRST-MOVEMENT FORM.
-----------------------------+------------------------+--------------------
A | B | A
Exposition | Development | Recapitulation
-----------------------------+------------------------+--------------------
Introduction (optional) |This section is based on|Theme I.
Theme I, usually followed by |themes already presented|Transition (?)
a short transition, or link|in the Exposition |Theme II in tonic or
Theme II in contrasting key | | home key
Coda | |Coda
(Duality of harmony) |(Plurality of Harmony) |(Unity of Harmony)
-----------------------------+------------------------+--------------------
IV. HARMONY AS A PART OF DESIGN.
There remains to be considered the important factor of harmony, or
arrangement of keys. This arrangement is shown in the diagram, Figure
XXXVIII; but the principle involved is an important one, and the mere
statement of Duality, Plurality and Unity hardly suffices to explain
it. There seems to be no doubt that the subtle uses composers make of
harmony are less intelligible to the average listener than are the uses
of themes. A theme represents, as it were, a line, and since it is the
tune that, for most listeners, constitutes the music the attention of
the listeners is readily drawn to changes which materially affect it.
Harmonic design, on the other hand--the setting of one key or series
of keys against another--is often only dimly recognized, if at all,
although it is of the greatest importance in all modern music. In
sonata-form the harmonic plan (described above by the terms Duality,
Plurality and Unity) adds an important element since it unifies the
last section by stating both first and second theme in the same key.
And in the middle, or development section, the freedom of harmonic
progression--the multitude of keys--gives great variety and enables the
composer freely to indulge his fancy.
In the present movement Bach chooses at times certain remote keys that
impart to this section of the piece a charm of their own. The passage
beginning on the second beat of measure 54 illustrates this: the four
measures that follow are all in the remote key of F-flat major. (The
reader should examine each of the modulations that occurs in the
development section.) However unconscious of the charm of harmonic
variety the average listener may be, he would surely be conscious of
monotony were the piece all in one or even two keys. And since the
tendency of the music of to-day is to exalt harmony at the expense
of melody, it is desirable that the student should pay particular
attention to these early phases of harmonic structure, so as to be able
to appreciate this important element in modern music. In fact the whole
progress of music since Haydn has been steadily onward towards a free
use of the different keys, and as our ears have become accustomed to
new combinations of chords, we have gradually come to feel the beauty
that lies in glowing musical colors, and to accept them as a legitimate
means of expression. In our chapters on Beethoven this phase of musical
development will receive fuller attention.
V. SUMMARY.
In this movement of C. P. E. Bach, despite its many crudities, there
is taken a long step toward the establishment of modern sonata-form.
The main divisions of the form, exposition, development, and
recapitulation, appear clearly; solid harmonic structure is attained
by the sequence of duality, plurality, and unity; there are two
contrasting themes, though the second is rudimentary; the general
principle of development of themes through insistence on salient
features is illustrated; and the whole movement is written in a style
well suited to the piano, and emancipated from the influence of
polyphony and of the short dance and song forms.
In the next chapter we shall see how Haydn and Mozart proceeded to
build more elaborate structures on the foundation thus laid by C. P. E.
Bach.
SUGGESTIONS FOR COLLATERAL READING.
_Dickinson: "The Study of the History of Music," Chapter XIV. Grove:
"Dictionary of Music," articles on "Bach, Philip Emanuel," "Sonata,"
"Form." C. H. H. Parry: "Evolution of the Art of Music," Chapters VII
and IX (Appleton). "Oxford History of Music," Volume IV._
FOOTNOTES:
[22] It will be noted that there are three names for this one type of
structure: "Sonata-form," "First-movement form," and "Developed ternary
form."
[23] No. 1 in the edition by Peters, Leipzig.
[24] See Hadow's "Sonata-Form" (Novello) Chapter VII, for a discussion
of the various methods of theme-development.
CHAPTER IX.
SONATA-FORM II.
I. HAYDN AND THE SONATA-FORM.
The type of musical structure which first took on definite shape in
the work of Philip Emanuel Bach, the type which may be defined as
consisting essentially of the exposition, development, and restatement
of two contrasted themes, and to which the name of sonata-form is
given, was not reduced to perfect clearness until the time of Haydn
(1732-1809), who because of his labors in this field is often called
"The father of the symphony."[25] Having the inestimable advantage
of being concert-master, for a period of thirty years (1761-1791),
to the princely house of the Esterhazys, where he had a small but
good orchestra under his direction, and was expected constantly to
produce new pieces for it to play, he was practically forced to write
an astonishing amount of music, in all of which this form figured
prominently. Hardly one of his hundred and twenty-five symphonies,
and his seventy-seven string quartets, etc., is without one or more
examples of sonata-form. Such constant practice enabled him to carry it
far beyond the rather indeterminate state in which Philip Emanuel Bach
left it, and to crystallize it as a structural type for all time.
Among the most important advances made by Haydn over the practice of
his predecessor, as we saw it illustrated in the last chapter, were
(1) the greater importance and individuality given to the second
theme[26]; (2) the abolishment of merely rhapsodical passages, and
the substitution of successions of chords marking off unmistakably
the various sections of the movement; (3) increased definition at
the end of the exposition section, in the "codetta," which, in some
instances, even has a definite theme or themes of its own, called
conclusion-themes; (4) greater clearness in the key-system of the
whole movement, according to the principle of Duality-Plurality-Unity
already discussed; (5) increased importance and extent of the coda,
which sometimes grows to the proportions of a fourth section to the
movement; (6) use of an introduction, generally in slow time and of a
stately character, preparing the mind for serious attention. It will
be noted that all these advances are in the direction of making the
form more definite, clear-cut, and readily intelligible, as it was most
important that it should be made in its early existence until it was
perfectly familiar to the audience. Increased _variety_ came later, in
the work of Mozart and Beethoven, and could come only after the typical
structure was thoroughly understood by the public. Thus Haydn's
function was that of a systematizer, an establisher of sure foundations
on which more elaborate and free superstructures may later be built;
and for this work his clear, simple, well-disciplined mind and his
thorough rather than brilliant artistic technique admirably fitted him.
These points will be made clear by an analysis of an example of
sonata-form, taken from the "Surprise" Symphony which he wrote for
London audiences in 1791, toward the close of his career.
The general structure, as regards both themes and larger sections, may
be conveniently shown in tabular form, thus:--
TABULAR VIEW OF STRUCTURE OF THE FIRST MOVEMENT OF HAYDN'S
"SURPRISE" SYMPHONY.
--------------------+-----------------------------------------+---------
Main Divisions. | Themes. |Measures.
--------------------+-----------------------------------------+---------
Slow Introduction | | 1-17
Exposition (A) |First theme, G-major | 18-22
|Passage work | 22-39
|First theme, repeated | 40-44
Duality of Harmony |Transition to key of D-major (Dominant) | 44-67
|Second theme, D-major | 67-80
|Third, or Conclusion theme, D-major | 81-93
|"Cadences," emphasizing close in this key| 93-108
--------------------+-----------------------------------------+---------
Development (B) | |
Plurality of Harmony| |109-156
--------------------+-----------------------------------------+---------
Recapitulation (A) |First theme, G-major |156-160
|Passage work |160-185
|Second theme, now in G-major |185-196
Unity of Harmony |Further working of First theme |196-231
|Conclusion theme, now in G-major |231-244
|"Cadences," emphasizing the home key of |
| G-major |244-259
--------------------+-----------------------------------------+---------
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 13.
_Haydn:_[27] _"Surprise Symphony" the first movement. Two-hand piano
arrangement of twelve Symphonies of Haydn._
The first thing that strikes us about the general character of this
movement is its admirable clearness, in which it is representative
of all Haydn's work. In spite of its being so much larger and more
complex than the sonata of Philip Emanuel Bach, its structure is so
obvious that a child could hardly go astray in following it. This is
in large measure due to the pains the composer takes to emphasize each
key and each change of key by means of scale-passages and chords.
(See, for example, measures 59-67, emphasizing the key of D-major,
and the entire conclusion-portions of both the exposition and the
recapitulation (67-108) and (185-259), one insisting on D-major, the
other on G-major.) Such passages as these have been much criticised for
their conventionality and lack of melodic interest, but when we realize
how they _punctuate_ the movement, so to speak, and what a perfect
clearness they give it, we realize how important they were to the early
stage of development of the sonata-form, when its principles had not
become as universally familiar as they are now. They are an immense
advance over the vague rhapsodizings of Philip Emanuel Bach in parallel
places.
The key-relationships of the movement follow the usual practice. In
the exposition we find duality of key: G-major and D-major. In the
development there is ample plurality.
In the recapitulation the home key, G-major, dominates throughout.
Haydn's second theme, though more definite than Philip Emanuel Bach's,
is still somewhat lacking in individuality. It is hardly more than a
string of chords and scales having more tonal interest than melodic
life. It is certainly far from being a lyrical melody strikingly
contrasted with the more energetic first theme. The conclusion theme,
full of Haydnish amiability, grace, and good cheer, is much more
definitely melodious.
Another symptom of the crudity inseparable from early stages of
artistic evolution is the shortness and rather mediocre interest of
the development section. The first theme is briefly but monotonously
treated in measures 109-126. Then comes (127-132) a little playing, in
the bass, with the small figure which first appeared in (44-45):
[Music: score]
Germ (measures 44-45.)
[Music: score]
Development (127 seq.)
FIGURE XXXVIIIa.
and later (133-135), an _inversion_ of this:
[Music: score]
Inversion (133 seq.)
[Music: score]
Later (136 seq.)
FIGURE XXXIX.
The rhythmic figure thus established is made to do duty in the
extended modulation that immediately follows (136-143), after which
comes (144-155) a reminiscence of the passage first used just before
the second theme; and with this Haydn returns to his first theme
and enters on the recapitulation. It is thus almost as if, after
stating his themes, he was at a loss what to do with them, and after
a brief dalliance, from which little novelty results, hurried on to
the restatement, much as an unimaginative preacher tries to make up
by the vehemence with which he reasserts his text for his failure to
give it vivid illustration and suggestive elucidation. In Beethoven's
symphonies the development is usually the point of greatest interest.
But it is of course not fair to expect of a pioneer the last fruits
of culture. Haydn lays down in such movements as the present one the
essential principles of form in instrumental music; to have done
that, with whatever minor shortcomings, is a sufficient claim upon our
admiration and gratitude.
The shortcomings of Haydn's work are those natural to his circumstances
as a pioneer and to certain emotional limitations of his temperament.
Compared with Beethoven he is lacking both in profundity of feeling
and in variety of style; he is less brilliant and less polished than
Mozart. But on the other hand, Haydn has a homely simplicity, a sort
of childlike charm, all his own; he lives in a world of artistic
truth untainted by sophistry, uncomplicated by oversubtlety; he
is always clear, sincere, straightforward, and he often rises to
nobility and true dignity. Above all, he has the peculiar merit of
having taken up a sort of music which was fragmentary and immature,
and of having elevated it into a new, an essentially modern, and an
infinitely promising type of art. Such a fundamental work can never be
discredited by the more brilliant exploits of later workers who have
the indispensable advantage of building upon it.
II. MOZART AND THE SONATA-FORM.
Though Haydn (1732-1809) was not only by many years the senior of
Mozart (1756-1791), but also outlived him, the relations between the
two were most cordial and close. Haydn had done much of his best work
before 1788, when Mozart wrote his three greatest symphonies, and so
may be said to have served as Mozart's model. Yet he in turn learned
much from his younger but more brilliant friend, and did not write his
own greatest symphonies (the twelve so-called "Salomon" symphonies,
which were written for Salomon, a London orchestral conductor, in 1791
and 1794, and of which the "Surprise" is one) until after Mozart's
untimely death. How thoroughly each man respected the other, we know
from their own words. Mozart in dedicating his six finest string
quartets to Haydn, said: "It was due from me, for it was from him that
I learned how quartets should be written." As for Haydn, he once put
an end to an argument on the merits and defects of "Don Giovanni" by
remarking: "I cannot decide the questions in dispute, but this I know,
that Mozart is the greatest composer in the world."
Mozart not only had the great advantage of building on Haydn's secure
foundations, but he brought to the task a genius much more supreme than
his predecessor's. From his earliest composition, a minuet written
when he was only five years old,[28] to the three great symphonies in
G-minor, E-flat major, and C-major ("Jupiter") produced at the end
of his career, a movement from the first of which we shall presently
study, all his work shows a spontaneity of inspiration, a graciousness
of melody, a stoutness and symmetry of musical construction, a finish
of style, a depth of emotional expression, and a classical lucidity and
purity, perhaps not to be found all together in the work of any other
musician. Especially does he excel Haydn in profundity of feeling,
versatility of resource, and a certain aristocratic distinction. All
these qualities are shown in his great G-minor Symphony, one of his
supreme masterpieces.
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 14.
_Mozart: Symphony in G-minor, the first movement._[29]
TABULAR VIEW OF THE STRUCTURE OF THE FIRST MOVEMENT OF MOZART'S
G-MINOR SYMPHONY.
--------------------+------------------------------------------+---------
Main Divisions. | Themes. |Measures.
--------------------+------------------------------------------+---------
Exposition (A) | | 1-100
comprising |First theme | 1-27
|Transition, on a subsidiary theme | 28-42
|Second theme, in relative major key | 44-72
Duality of Harmony |Conclusion theme, built on first theme | 72-88
|Cadence formulas emphasizing |
| the key of B-flat | 88-99
|Modulation | 100.
--------------------+------------------------------------------+---------
Development Section,| |
or Free Fantasia (B)| | 101-165
|Modulation continued | 101-103
|First theme in various keys | 104-115
Plurality of Harmony|First theme, alternating between bass |
| and treble, with contrapuntal treatment |
| of the transition theme in "diminution."| 115-134
|Cadence in dominant of original key |
| emphasized | 135-138
|Rhythm of First theme variously used | 139-165
--------------------+------------------------------------------+---------
Recapitulation (A) | | 165-293
|First theme | 165-191
Unity of Harmony |Transition, on subsidiary theme | 191-225
|Second theme, in G-minor (tonic) | 227-260
|Conclusion theme, First theme | 260-275
|Cadences-formulas, emphasizing G-minor | 275-285
--------------------+------------------------------------------+---------
Coda |On First theme | 286-299
--------------------+------------------------------------------+---------
There is no slow introduction, as in Haydn's "Surprise" Symphony,
but there is a short coda. A little detailed comparison with the
Haydn movement will prove interesting. There is none of the rather
meaningless passage work which Haydn uses in his transition from
the first to the second theme; instead there is a subsidiary theme
(measures 28-42) which in spite of its secondary formal importance
is vigorous, strongly characterized music. Instead of an entirely
new theme for conclusion (Haydn, 81-93) we find an adaptation of
the characteristic rhythm of the first theme (72-88) fulfilling the
function of conclusion theme--to emphasize the close of the first
section of the movement--by harping constantly on the tonic and
dominant chords. This adaptation of familiar matter to a new purpose
is ingenious. The return to the first theme, after the development
section, is beautifully managed. Over a held D in the bass, beginning
at measure 160, the upper voices weave a gradually descending passage
out of the motive of the first theme (three notes only). There is a
slight retarding, a sense of decreasing momentum, until, with the
unobtrusive entrance of the theme in measure 165, a new start is
taken, and the recapitulation goes merrily onward. The apparently
unpremeditated nature of this entrance (though of course it was
carefully planned) is charming.
In the recapitulation, the subsidiary theme which first appeared
at 28-42, enters at 191, and is made the subject of a considerable
episode. It appears in the bass at 198. Note the sequence at 202-203,
and 204-205. The second theme, on its second appearance (227), is not
only put in the tonic key of G, but is changed from major to minor.
This gives rise to an interesting change in its expression. Instead of
being merely tender and ingenuous, as its first and major form was, it
takes on now a certain air of mystery and of resignation or controlled
pathos. The conclusion theme (260) is also now put into the minor mode.
The coda is short, and contains first a final suggestion of the main
subject of the movement, and the necessary cadences for closing it
firmly in the home key.
III. MOZART'S ARTISTIC SKILL.
This movement affords a remarkable example of Mozart's power to infuse
endless variety into the details of his work, without ever impairing
its coherence and fundamental unity. He shows here, in short, that
remarkable fecundity of imagination, constantly subordinated to the
demands of clearness and musical logic, which gives all his music a
fascinating variety that never degenerates into miscellaneousness.
For convenience in analysis, we may briefly examine first the elements
of variety and later the underlying unity (though it should be
remembered throughout that in the work itself the two qualities are
intertwined, so to speak, and affect us co-operatively). Thus in the
capital matter of rhythm, for example, the real master of construction
always takes care to maintain the unity of the fundamental meter
with which he starts out, and builds up a variety of rhythms on this
uniform basis by making different themes group the elementary beats
in different ways: as Mozart, in this movement, keeps his measure of
four quarter-notes throughout, but makes the rhythm of his first theme
out of quarters and eighths, and that of his second theme largely out
of dotted halves and quarters. _An actual change of measure_ in a new
theme, such as we find in many modern composers, is often a sign of
deficient mental concentration, a kind of incoherence in which variety
is secured at the expense of unity. The true masters drive their unity
and their variety, so to speak, abreast.
Note then in the first place, the contrasts between the three chief
themes of the movement, viz.: the first theme, the subsidiary theme
that does duty in the transition (28-42), and the second theme.
Their rhythmic diversity may be noted at a glance in the following
comparative table, in which the rhythm only of four measures of each
theme is set down.
[Music: score]
First.
[Music: score]
Subsidiary.
[Music: score]
Second.
FIGURE XL.
A reference back to the first movement of the Haydn "Surprise" Symphony
will show Mozart's advance in respect of rhythmical diversity.
A parallel advance in diversity of style is noteworthy. Haydn's
movement is steadily homophonic in style, and grows somewhat monotonous
for that reason. Mozart sets off against his homophonic exposition
section a delightfully clean-cut and vigorous polyphonic passage
founded on the first theme in the development section of the movement
(115-134), and another similar passage in the recapitulation (the new
treatment of the subsidiary, 191-217.).
Again, Mozart uses skillfully the possibilities for variety opened up
to the composer by modulation and setting off against one another of
different keys. A radical and fascinating change of coloring is also
obtained by transposing the second and conclusion themes, on their
final appearance (227 and 260), from major to minor. They are thus
exhibited, as it were, in a new light, while retaining their essential
character sufficiently to be perfectly recognizable.
Underneath all this charming play of fancy, the fundamental plan of
the movement is as clear as the outline of a mountain range under all
the luxuriant foliage that clothes its slopes. This clearness of form
is due chiefly to two causes, a fine logic in the use of themes, and
a careful adjustment of keys. The closeness with which Mozart sticks
to his thematic texts may in some cases at first sight escape us, but
when we come to realize it through careful dissection, we cannot but be
profoundly impressed by the intellectual grasp it indicates. Thus, the
passage at measures 66-67 is not new, but is made from that of 48-49
_inverted_. The conclusion theme (72-88) is not made from new matter,
as is usual with Haydn, but is derived from the little three-note
motive of the first theme. The entire development is wrought out of
new manipulations of the same theme, as is also the coda. The long
transition in the recapitulation (191-225) is made entirely from the
subsidiary. There is here, in a word, none of that "clattering of the
dishes" between the courses. The economy of the master is everywhere
observable; irrelevancies are excluded; there is no superfluity, no
surplusage, no prolixity and wordiness. Every measure fulfils its
purpose in the simplest and most direct way, and justifies its presence
by its reference to the essential thematic ideas of the work.
Unity of key is secured by a careful observation of the main traditions
of the sonata-form in the matter of the distribution of tonalities. The
exposition shows the customary quality of key, tonic (G-minor) being
contrasted with relative major (B-flat major).[30] The development, as
we have already seen, exemplifies plurality of key. The recapitulation
emphasizes throughout the home key of G-minor, thus ending the movement
with the fitting impression of tonal unity. A glance at measures 38-42,
72-99, 134-138, 146-165, 221-225, and 260-307 will show how much pains
Mozart has taken to emphasize his keys at all important points in the
design. The emphasis, as in the case of Haydn, is superfluous for
modern ears, but was very necessary for the audiences addressed by the
early advocates of so complex a scheme of musical design.
Altogether then, we see in such a movement as the present, Mozart
taking the sonata-form a step in advance of where Haydn had left it,
and while preserving its essential outline, filling it with the wealth
of detail which his luxuriant fancy suggested. Later it will become
clear that he was thus preparing it for the still further elaboration
of an even greater master of construction--Beethoven.
SUGGESTIONS FOR COLLATERAL READING.
_D. G. Mason: "Beethoven and His Forerunners," Chapters V and VI.
C. H. H. Parry: "The Evolution of the Art of Music," Chapter XI. E.
Dickinson: "The Study of the History of Music," Chapters XXIV and XXV._
_W. H. Hadow: "Sonata Form."_
FOOTNOTES:
[25] A symphony, as we have seen, is only a sonata, on a large scale,
for orchestra.
[26] Even in Haydn, however, the second themes remain generally rather
rudimentary (see the analysis of his "Surprise Symphony," later in this
chapter). In many cases his second theme is hardly more than a variant
of the first; as for example in the two pianoforte sonatas in E-flat
major. In the first movement of his "Paukenwirbel" Symphony, however,
there is a very distinct second theme, and in many other movements the
student will note a marked tendency toward definition.
[27] Published for piano, two or four hands, by Peters, Leipzig. For
convenience of reference number all measures, and parts of measures,
consecutively. The numbers will run to 258.
[28] See Mason's "Beethoven and His Forerunners," page 218.
[29] Arrangement for piano, two hands, in the Peters edition. Number
the measures throughout. There are three hundred and seven. The general
structure will be seen at a glance in the appended tabular view.
[30] This is according to custom in movements written in minor keys.
The second theme is in such cases usually put in the relative major
instead of in the dominant. (See the chapter on "Folk-Song.")
CHAPTER X.
THE SLOW MOVEMENT.
I. VARIETIES OF FORM.
In the classical sonata the usual arrangement of movements was as
follows: (1) Allegro (in "Sonata-form"): (2) Adagio or Minuet: (3)
Finale (usually a rondo).
Occasionally--as in Mozart's Piano Sonata in A-major--the slow
movement, in the form of a theme and variations, was placed at
the beginning, and in that case the order would be (1) Theme and
Variations, (2) Minuet (3) Finale. The symphony, which, it must be
remembered, was a sonata on a large scale--always began with a movement
in sonata-form, and had four movements. Although the sonata was subject
to many outside influences--most important of which were polyphony and
the old overture and other operatic forms--its two main sources were
dance tunes and folk-songs. The evolution of the dance tune through
Bach's polyphonic gavottes, sarabandes, etc., has already been traced
in Chapters IV, V, and VI, and the influence of the dance on the first
movement in Chapters VIII and IX.
The slow movement is ultimately derived from the folk-song, and, while
more subject to operatic influence than were the other movements,
it still retains something of that simple lyric quality that
distinguished it in its primitive form. Unlike the other movements of
the sonata and symphony, however, the slow movement has no settled
form: _i. e._, while we speak of first-movement, or sonata-form, of
the rondo form, and of the minuet form, we do not speak thus of "slow
movement form." For in the slow movement style rather than form is
of greatest importance. On account of its slow tempo it is shorter
than the first movement, and consequently not so dependent for
intelligibility on formal structure. Its themes, also, are song-like in
character, and song themes, being in themselves complete, do not lend
themselves readily to development--do not generate new material--as
has already been pointed out. As a consequence the slow movement is
usually written in what we call a "sectional" form: _i. e._, a series of
sections following one another according to whatever order or system
the composer may choose. The most common use is, however, the form
employed in the minuet. But in slow movements the long song themes,
somewhat elegiac in style and full of sentiment, make the _mood_ of
each section of supreme importance, and throw the formal element into
the background. So that, while the slow movement usually falls under
some one of the common forms already discussed, it often modifies them
in one way or another.
There are rare instances of developed ternary form in the slow
movements of Mozart's pianoforte sonatas. The Andante of the Sonata in
B-flat (no. 10 in Schirmer's edition), has a development section. It
comprises only nineteen measures, however, and its effect as a section
germinating from the exposition is somewhat lessened by the scheme of
repeats, which is as follows: A :⎜⎜: B. A. :⎜⎜. The use of rondo form
in the slow movement will be discussed in a later chapter.
II. SLOW MOVEMENTS OF PIANOFORTE SONATAS.
Reference has already been made in Chapters VI and VII to the lack of
sustaining power in the tone of the pianoforte of Haydn and Mozart's
day, and the consequent use of ornament in their pianoforte music. In
Figure XLI (_a_) is shown the beginning of the andante of Mozart's
sonata referred to above, and at (_b_) will be found the corresponding
portion of the restatement in the same movement. These two quotations
should be compared with the corresponding portions of the two pieces
that serve as examples for analysis with this chapter. This comparison
will reveal how much more highly ornamented was the music written for
the piano than that for instruments with sustained tone.
[Music: score]
(_a_)
[Music: score]
(_b_)
FIGURE XLI.
It will be observed that this quotation from Mozart is in strophic
form; each phrase of two measures constitutes, as it were, a poetic
line, the second of which closes with a half cadence, and the last
with a full cadence or period. In this respect it follows the old
folk-song type, and, indeed, that model serves for the great majority
of lyric themes in sonatas and symphonies. But in its initial qualities
this melody shows a great advance over tunes like "Barbara Alien" and
"Polly Oliver," an advance due to the flexibility to which both melody
and harmony had attained in Mozart's time, and to that freedom of
technique provided by the piano as compared with the voice.
These quotations from Mozart are from a sonata movement which is, on
the whole, above the formal average of the pianoforte pieces of that
period. Many of them were excessively ornamented. In Figure XLII are
shown two quotations from a sonata of Haydn, in the latter of which the
ornaments are profuse.
[Music: score]
(_a_)
[Music: score]
(_b_)
FIGURE XLII.
In spite of the somewhat artificial atmosphere that surrounds much of
the pianoforte music of this period there is, in the best specimens
of it, a charming formal beauty. It is within its own sphere genuine
and true to life. One has to consider the kind of society that it
represents, as well as the status of music in that society. The art was
not, at that time, free enough, nor practical enough, to deal with deep
emotions; people looked on it as a refined sort of amusement. Not until
Beethoven had written his music did its possibilities as a vehicle for
deep human feeling and experience become evident.
III. THE STRING QUARTET.
It was not until the time of Haydn that the string quartet[31] came
into being; a fact for which we may easily account by examining the
instrumental parts of orchestral compositions before Haydn's time. We
shall find the 'cello, for example, playing for the most part merely
the bass notes that support the superstructure of the orchestra,
and consequently entirely unaccustomed to individual parts of any
difficulty. Another obstacle in the path of the string quartet was the
slow development of the viola, which only gradually emerged from the
older and more cumbersome types, such as the viola d'amour and viola
da braccio. Haydn began by writing little quartets of the simplest
possible kind--the first movement of the first quartet contains only
twenty-four measures--but by constant practice throughout his long life
he attained a complete mastery of the form. In his early quartets he
usually wrote five movements, two of them minuets, but he soon settled
on the regular four movement form which has remained ever since as the
usually accepted model.
EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 15.
_Haydn: Adagio in E-flat major from the String Quartet_[32] _in
G-major, op. 77, No. 1._
This Adagio is thoroughly characteristic of Haydn's best style of
writing. It is without the elaborate and somewhat diffuse treatment
we observed in the trio of his "Andante with Variations" (See Chapter
VII), nor does it depend for its effect on the much more artistic use
of ornament employed by Mozart in the Andante quoted in Figure XLI.
Almost everything in this composition germinates from the two motives
given out in measures 1-2 and 3-4, and it should be noted that each
of these motives is sufficiently pronounced in character to serve the
purposes of generation, and that the theme, as a whole, is not by
any means a perfect lyric melody such as will be found in our second
example for analysis.
[Music: score]
FIGURE XLIII.
The first of these motives (see Figure XLIII, measures 1-2) is easily
traced throughout the whole composition, since the changes that are
made in it are largely changes in key, but the second motive (measures
3-4) almost immediately evolves into something new. This may be
observed in measure 11, where the rhythm of the passage at measure 3
is changed, the melody being given to the left hand. The second part
(or stanza) of the melody, beginning at measure 13, uses chiefly the
phrase from measure 2, which will be found again in the dominant--to
which key this section tends--at measures 21-22. Even the passage at
23 is an elaboration of that at 11, and this same original motive is
lengthened into a delightful bit of by-play at measures 35-37. The
close in C-major at 42, with its accents transferred to the fourth beat
of the measure, should be noted, while the sudden change of key after
the pause was, at that time, almost a revolutionary modulation, and
sounds more like Beethoven than Haydn (see, for example, the sudden
and complete change of key in the coda of the first movement of the
"Eroica" Symphony). The use of the motive from measure 2 at 45-54 and
the gradual elimination of its melodic quality until only its rhythm
remains (53-54) is an interesting example of a familiar process in
music (see Chapter VIII). This gradual dying away and ceasing of motion
is also a familiar process at this point in a movement, providing as it
does a sense of expectancy and preparation for the re-entrance of the
main theme. The restatement begins at measure 55 and as is customary
retains the original key instead of modulating to the dominant as did
the first section. The coda begins at 82 and, according to Haydn's
usual plan, presents a kind of reminiscence of the main subject, as if
in tender farewell.
IV. GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS.
While this movement does not reach the heights of lyric beauty attained
by Mozart in the Andante which we shall analyze in a moment, it is,
nevertheless, a thoroughly interesting and really beautiful piece of
music. Our attention is constantly enlisted by fresh glimpses of the
theme, or by new harmonies; the ornamentation all grows naturally
out of the structure and is not laid on for its own sake, and the
melody itself is expressive and tender. Furthermore, the themes and
their treatment are characterized by a perfect adaptability to the
string quartet, for even in the pianoforte version, we can observe
how interesting is the part given to each instrument. Here, just as
in a perfect story or a perfect poem, there is nothing redundant,
nothing that has not some part in the main purpose of the work. And
this combination of placid beauty with perfection of form makes what
is called the "Classic" in music. Especially do we find here an entire
absence of those perfunctory passages that occur in the movement of the
"Surprise" Symphony discussed in the last chapter.