 
### Beethoven's Early Chamber Music

### A Listening Guide

Terence O'Grady

Copyright 2013 Terence O'Grady

Cover by Joleene Naylor

Smashwords Edition

Smashword Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Table of Contents

Preface

1. The Early Years in Bonn

2. The Piano Quartets : WoO 36

3. Two Early trios and a Duo : WoO 37; WoO38; WoO 26

4. Beethoven in Vienna: Octet, Op. 103; Quintet, Op. 4; Twelve Variations, WoO 40; Rondo, WoO 41

5. The Op. 1 Piano Trios

6. Beethoven and his Teachers

7. The String Trios: Op. 3; Op. 8; Op. 9

8. The Early Cello Sonatas: Op. 5, Nos. 1-2; Twelve Variations, WoO 45

9. The Early Violin Sonatas: Op. 12, Nos. 1-3

10. Chamber Works with Winds : Trio, Op. 87; Sextet, Op. 81b; Sextet, Op. 71;Quintet, Op. 16; Trio, Op. 11; Sextet, Op. 20

11. The Op. 18 String Quartets

Appendix: Other Early Chamber Works

Preface

It's unlikely that very many lovers of classical music would argue with Beethoven's credentials as one of the greatest composers of his or any other epoch. But over the years, his deserved reputation has been built largely on the esteem in which his major works emanating from the middle and later periods of his life are held. The symphonies—Nos. 3,5,6, 7 & 9 in particular—have secured a place in the pantheon of great symphonic masterpieces. The piano sonatas, long heralded as the "new testament" of music for the keyboard, are without parallel in their universe. Beethoven's choral masterpiece, the Missa Solemnis, and his sole opera, Fidelio, have long been certified as among the greatest of their respective genres (despite the fact that both have had their detractors over the years). His string quartets have also been highly esteemed, but once again it is the middle works, the Rasumovsky Quartets of Op. 59, and the glorious if sometimes ethereal and puzzling late quartets that have received most critical attention.

There is no question that Beethoven's earliest string quartets, the set of six from Op. 18 composed from 1798-1800, have come to be favorites of a number of professional and amateur string quartets and tend to be heartily embraced by audiences. But in general they inspire affection more than respect; they are seldom considered to be among the composer's greatest works. And if that is true of the Op. 18 quartets, it is even truer of the music Beethoven composed in his early years for other chamber ensembles of various sorts involving wind instruments, strings and piano. Many of these works are little known, some seeming to exist only as entries in encyclopedia work lists. Many of the major Beethoven biographies deal with some of them in a cursory manner, and even the more specialized studies of Beethoven's chamber music, which are often restricted to his string quartets, cast them no more than a sidelong glance.

This book, with no claims to exhaustiveness or scholarly rigor, will attempt to address this situation, more from the listener's point of view than the academic's. There is a great deal of early chamber music by Beethoven that is beautiful and completely satisfying in and of itself, and there is no question that the chamber works provide a special window through which we can observe Beethoven's genius. Intimate, yet capable of almost endless variation, chamber music represent an important part of Beethoven's total output.

Furthermore, the early chamber works are also extremely valuable as an introduction to the marvelous works of middle and late period Beethoven. Of course the whole notion of the "three periods" of Beethoven, i.e., "early Beethoven" from his earliest attempts to about 1801 or 1802; middle period Beethoven" from 1802 to 1815;and the "late" works from that point to his death, has long been under suspect in some academic quarters. To be sure, any attempt to categorize Beethoven's music in simple chronological terms is doomed to failure at the outset. Still, there is some merit in separating out Beethoven's earliest chamber works as a study in itself. It is in these early works that Beethoven is forging some of the techniques and aesthetic premises that he puts to such stellar use later in his career, and it is here that the basis of his musical character is formed. And that character, even in its earliest manifestations, is as fascinating as any in the world of classical music.

So the following is meant as a listening guide—not a scholarly study—focusing on a repertoire that has come to be a favorite of the author's and will, naturally, reflect the author's interests and prejudices. Other opinions will be duly considered along the way, of course, but in the end it is the reader's opinions that will matter the most. If this guide accomplishes its intention, its readers will have a better sense of what to expect from Beethoven's early chamber music and what to listen for. As for any book of this sort, the descriptions and analyses contained here will be much more meaningful if read right before (or after) actually listening to the works in question.

If this book can add to the listener's enjoyment of Beethoven's early chamber music, and, if—with the help of this book— Beethoven's admirers can discover an entirely new corner of his world, then it will have fulfilled its purpose.

Chapter 1

The Early Years in Bonn

Personal life, Education and Professional Development

In the later eighteenth century Bonn was a prosperous, small to medium-sized German city sitting on the west Bank of the Rhine River, south of Cologne. Its major claim to fame (before Beethoven's birth and early career there) was that it had been for centuries the historical home of the Electors of Cologne. Through its patronage, the Elector's court held a great deal of significance for the arts, especially music. A number of musicians were employed by the Elector Maximilian Frederich to entertain himself and his guests and, when he died and Maximilian Franz replaced him as Elector in 1784, the situation for musicians was to become even brighter.

One of the more valuable components of the Elector's musical establishment was Ludwig (Louis) van Beethoven, the grandfather of the famous composer and a well-respected musician (a bass), who had held professional positions in Belgium before accepting the position in Bonn in 1733. In 1761, he was granted the prestigious position of Kapellmeister at the court. Although fortunate in his musical career, Ludwig was less so in his private life. His wife developed a drinking problem that developed into full-scale alcoholism and spent the last years of her life in an institution.

The elder Ludwig's son, Johann Ludwig, also became a professional musician attached to the court at Bonn. But here the resemblance ended. Johann was, by most reports, a singer of limited ability whose vocal skills began to desert him prematurely. As Alan Tyson has bluntly stated, "He was not the man his father was." Still, Johann was sufficiently conversant with the piano and violin to be able to give lessons in both, thereby adding to his own modest income.

He and his wife, Maria Magdalena Keverich Leym, were to have seven children, only three of whom survived infancy. Ludwig van Beethoven was the first to survive, baptized on 17, December (probably born a day earlier), 1770. The date—and even the year—was to remain a source of confusion for some time, probably even to Ludwig himself.

Three more of the couple's children were to die prematurely and two brothers survived, one of whom in particular was to play a large role in Ludwig's life some years later.

History has been no kinder to Johann as a father than as a musician. He did recognize his son's talents at an early age and began to train Ludwig in the rudiments of music as well as piano and violin with an eye to increasing the family income as quickly as possible. (Ludwig was also to study viola as well, and it became his instrument of choice in later years when playing string quartets and in the court orchestra). But Johann's approach to teaching seems to have been rigid and mechanical, and he showed no interested in his son's fledgling attempts at composing. Thinking perhaps to emulate Mozart's success as a child prodigy, Johann arranged to have Ludwig perform in public at age seven (although he was advertised as even younger by his father who was hoping to make his talents seem even more remarkable). There is no record of the sort of brilliant success that would have matched that of the young Amadeus, and there is reason to think that the boy might have been less than enthusiastic about the attempt.

Ludwig's mother appears not to have played much of a role in her son's education—musical or otherwise. Relatively little is known about her, but it is often assumed that she was kind-hearted, quiet and serious, perhaps even given to bouts of depression. Johann was clearly the dominant member of the pair and he appeared more than ready to dominate his son in order to achieve the desired results.

When Ludwig was eight, he was sent briefly to a local organist for further instruction in keyboard skills and perhaps elementary music theory. He interacted briefly with a series of other teachers, including a relative who gave him further lessons on the violin and viola. But in his early general education, young Ludwig was not so favored, never going beyond the equivalent of an elementary school education. This was typical for the time and place for a boy whose family was of modest means and who showed no particular academic propensities. Historians have long speculated on the after-effects of this limited education, some pointing out that the adult Beethoven was notoriously weak in mathematics and sometimes seemed haphazard in regard to the finer points of written communication (especially spelling and punctuation). Still, it is clear that Beethoven did eventually develop strong intellectual interests beyond music and his adult tastes in literature (including the writings of Goethe, Schiller and Kant among others) were impressively varied.

While Johann does not seem to have dealt with his son with particular sensitivity, he did see the value of connecting him in 1779 with Christian Gottlob Neefe, when he arrived in Bonn as the director of an opera company. Neefe was a more substantial musician and composer than anyone the young Ludwig had encountered up to that point and their association paid off immediately. When Neefe also became court organist for the Elector, he chose the young Beethoven to fill in for him in his absence. It was in this capacity—limited and informal though it was initially— that Ludwig gained his first important performing experience as an organist. By the age of fifteen, Ludwig would be playing the organ every morning at 6:00 mass and would eventually be officially recognized as Neefe's assistant. Neefe also helped to introduce the young composer to more sophisticated music, requiring him to come to terms with some of the keyboard music of J. S. Bach, including the collection of preludes and fugues in the Well-Tempered Clavier, an unusual repertoire for a young man to master at the end of the eighteenth century. Although generous by nature, Neefe's standards were strict, and young Beethoven sometimes chafed under them.

When Neefe was also put in charge of the court's secular music, he was able to find a temporary place for the young man as cembalist in the court orchestra, a position that gave Beethoven some initial exposure to some of the popular operas of the period, including Mozart's singspiel "The Abduction from the Seraglio." About this time, Ludwig probably began studying violin and viola with Franz Ries, a family friend whose son, Ferdinand, would become a close friend of Beethoven's and a valuable source of information about the composer's younger years. This advanced instruction would eventually lead, by 1789, to Ludwig's professional success as a violist in the court orchestra, an experience that was to be of lasting benefit as a composer, giving him first hand-experience with negotiating the inner parts of string writing.

Under Neefe's caring but rigorous tutelage, Beethoven made his first attempts at composition. One of them, a set of variations on a march by Dressler (WoO 63), even found a publisher, thanks to Neefe. His relationship with Ludwig was crucial to his development at this point. Since the young Beethoven lacked an affectionate relationship with his father, Neefe's encouragement to Ludwig—both as a composer and as a pianist—played an important role in giving a young man somewhat lacking in social skills the confidence he needed to succeed. Neefe's pride in his young charge can be seen in this description he wrote of him for Cramer's Magazine in March, 1783:

Louis van Beethoven, son of the tenor singer mentioned, a boy of eleven [actually twelve, his father had exaggerated Ludwig's youth to make his abilities seem all the more remarkable] and of most promising talent. He plays the clavier very skillfully and with power, reads at sight very well, and—to put it in a nutshell—he plays chiefly "The Well-Tempered Clavier" of Sebastian Bach, which Herr Neefe put into his hands...As far as his duties permitted, Herr Neefe has also given him instruction in thorough-bass. He is now training him in composition and for his encouragement has had nine variations for the pianoforte, written by him on a march [by Ernst Christoph Dressler] engraved at Mannheim. This youthful genius is deserving of help to enable him to travel. He would surely become a second Amadeus Mozart were he to continue as he has begun.

While it's the purpose of this guide to focus on Beethoven's early chamber music, we'll stop for a moment to take a quick look at Beethoven's first publication, his Nine Variations on a March by Dressler (WoO 63).

The piece was dedicated to Countess Wolf-Metternick in 1782 and, as was the custom of the time, probably earned Beethoven a valuable gift from the Countess in return. At first glance, it's a little difficult to determine why this particular march would attract the young composer's ear. Dressler's piece is largely unremarkable, although not complete devoid of atmosphere. The first of two eight-bar sections consists of two groups of four-bar phrases, the first beginning and ending in the key of C minor, and the second migrating to the relative major key of E-flat major. The second eight-bar section begins in E-flat, touches briefly on a closely related key, and then concludes in C minor.

Block chords in repeated march-like dotted rhythms anchor a simple, mostly stepwise and somewhat repetitive melody that leaps modestly and predictably up or down a fourth from time to time.

Harmonically, the little piece is fairly simple: the first section is dominated initially by alternations of tonic and dominant chords. The second four-bar phrase offers a little more harmonic variety as it makes it way to E-flat major.

The second section of eight bars, starting in E-flat, begins by tonicizing the subdominant chord (F minor), i.e., by preceding it with a "secondary dominant." This technique had been a common one in music since the baroque period. A secondary dominant is a chromatic chord that serves to give the impression that the chord that follows it is temporarily serving as the new tonic chord. But the effect is generally short-lived, as it is here; the key soon settles back solidly into the original tonic of C minor and concludes there six bars later. In short, Dressler's march is fairly conventional and his harmonic accompaniment only mildly colorful.

Beethoven's treatment of Dressler's theme is generally straightforward. He transforms the original block-chord accompaniment in the first part into a variety of Alberti bass-styled patterns (i.e., those based on ascending or descending arpeggios or broken chord patterns). His first and third variations leave the original melody mostly intact. In the other variations, he varies the tune in rather conventional ways, frequently by embroidering the original shape with fast moving scale lines and arpeggio patterns. Beethoven seems perfectly happy to leave the rather commonplace harmonic pattern in place for the most part, although he does stretch the progression out to twice its original length in one variation and enriches it slightly with new secondary dominant chords in another.

Beethoven's melodic ornamentations are idiomatic enough, and some commentators have found touches of originality in his piano figuration, which does manage to show off the young pianist's improving technique in places. But his refusal to bend the rather mundane original chord progression in any new direction soon makes the piece tiresome. Beethoven will eventually become a master at transforming simple little tunes in highly imaginative ways but, in this case, one can only suggest that Beethoven's work is a more-than-respectable start for a boy of not quite thirteen.

As modest as this first effort may have been, Neefe clearly saw something in Beethoven's variations that showed some promise of greater achievement and so took the trouble of having the work published. Neefe's assistance to the young Beethoven in securing a publisher for this work certainly helped to provide a confidence boost for the young man. But Neefe contributed to Beethoven's growth in a number of other ways as well, many of them of greater lasting importance. For example, Neefe's erudition in literary and philosophical matters were also eye-opening to the young Beethoven, who would have encountered little intellectual stimulation at home. Now, through Neefe, he was exposed—at least to a limited degree—to some of the newer literary trends, including the emotionally intense German "Sturm und Drang" movement associated with the younger Goethe among others. Ludwig remained grateful to Neefe for broadening his horizons and later expressed the view that, if he were to become a great composer, part of the credit would go to Neefe.

If the young Beethoven was fortunate to have such a friendly, productive relationship with Neefe, he was equally fortunate to develop a good relationship with Maximilian Franz, who acceded to the position of Elector in 1784. At that point Beethoven began to receive a modest salary as court organist and his compositional activity increased somewhat, producing an unpublished piano concerto in E major among other works.

With the encouragement of Neefe and funding from the new Elector, Beethoven made a visit to Vienna, far and away the most important music center of the German-speaking world, in 1787. There he met Mozart and may have had a few lessons from him. Hearing him improvise on a theme provided by Mozart himself, Wolfgang is purported to have announced that the young Beethoven would someday "give the world something to talk about." While Mozart's statement may well be apocryphal, there seems little doubt that Beethoven was encouraged by his visit with the great composer.

But Beethoven's visit to Vienna was cut short. Word was passed to him that his mother's health—fragile for some time—had taken a turn for the worst. He returned to Bonn to find her dying of tuberculosis in July of 1787. Beethoven was heart-broken when she passed away and expressed his intense grief openly. Thereafter, things went from bad to worse in the Beethoven household. His father, Johann, had begun to drink heavily even before his wife's death (and after the death of yet another infant), and the blow of her passing apparently exacerbated the situation profoundly. This problem, along with Johann's generally unstable behavior and his failing voice, drove Ludwig to take the exceptional step of petitioning for half of his father's salary so that he could support himself and his brothers. Johann willingly passed half of his stipend on to his son and Ludwig began, in effect, to function as the head of the family, which at that point consisted of Beethoven, his two brothers Caspar Carl and Johann, and a little girl of eighteen months, who was to die some four months later.

Although this was unquestionably a period of stress for Beethoven, frantically busy with his lessons, playing viola in the court and theatre orchestras and still recovering from his mother's loss, there were some consolations and pleasures in this period as well. The families of his friend, Franz Anton Ries, and, in particular, the von Breuning family, headed by matriarch Helene von Breuning and her husband, Stephan, took the young composer under their wing. Beethoven became fast friends with the three von Breuning children, especially Gerhard, and Mrs. von Breuning was eventually to become almost like a second mother to Beethoven, trying (not always successfully) to smooth out some of the rough edges in his personality and demeanor. Beethoven sometimes stayed with the von Breunings in their country home where they welcomed him into their social circle and introduced him to various elegant young ladies, some of whom Beethoven became (at least temporarily) smitten with. In the bosom of the von Breuning family, Beethoven met and connected with a number of the intellectual notables of the day, further expanding his intellectual and literary interests.

Also in this period (and probably through his connection with the von Breunings), Beethoven developed a relationship with Franz Wegeler who, although five years older, was destined to become one of Beethoven's greatest lifetime friends and, later, an important source of information about the composer. Beethoven also met in this period Count Waldstein, with whom he was to develop a lasting friendship and to whom he later dedicated his powerful Piano Sonata No. 21 in C Major, Op. 53. His connection to Waldstein was to pay dividends right from the beginning as the Count would sometimes bring the young Beethoven as a guest to various intellectual and literary gatherings to which the Count was privy and would also support him financially.

According to Anton Reicha, later to become an important composer and theorist in his own right, Beethoven and Reicha attended some classes at the newly upgraded Bonn University. Here Beethoven would reportedly encounter, among others, Eulogius Schneider, a fire-breathing professor of philology famous for his anti-clerical taunting and generally revolutionary views. Beethoven was apparently a subscriber for one of Schneider's books of poems, but the extent to which the young man was a follower of the author's more radical views at that point is difficult to determine.

The most important composition of this period is Beethoven's cantata in commemoration of Emperor Joseph II, who died in February, 1790. Joseph, the Elector's older brother, was well known for his devotion to the ideals of the Enlightenment (as he understood them) and the relatively liberal policies based on those ideals. Although Beethoven received a commission to produce the work (somewhat remarkable in itself for an unproven young composer), the work was never performed, either because the score was not completed in time (the celebration was planned for March 19) or, as it was reported, because the musicians found the parts too difficult to deal with on short notice. Since Beethoven was subsequently asked to write another work for the coronation of Joseph's brother Leopold (also unperformed), it seems that there was little question about the quality of Beethoven's first effort. And even though the composition was not then performed (it had to wait until 1884 to receive a full performance), it still served a useful purpose. Beethoven showed the score to Franz Joseph Haydn, presumably when the latter was travelling through Bonn in 1792, and Haydn was impressed with the work, urging Beethoven to continue on with his efforts and promising to take him on (tuition-free) as a student were he to move to Vienna.

The commissioning of the two cantatas, their failure to be performed, and the encouragement offered to Beethoven by Haydn, combined to prompt Beethoven to consider a permanent relocation to Vienna. Beethoven was increasingly convinced it was time for him to make his mark on the most musical city of the German-speaking world. And although Mozart, clearly Beethoven's greatest inspiration at this point in his life, had recently died, Beethoven was convinced that working with Haydn would be a valuable experience. The Elector had promised to pay Beethoven's expenses in Vienna with the thought that the young composer would return to Bonn an even greater adornment for the court. Count Waldstein's views in this matter appear to have been pivotal. In an oft-quoted letter to Beethoven, Waldstein declared:

Dear Beethoven,

You are going to Vienna in fulfillment of your long-frustrated wishes. The Genius of Mozart is still mourning and weeping over the death of her pupil. She found a refuge but no occupation with the inexhaustible Haydn; through him she wishes once more to form a union with another. With the help of assiduous labor you shall receive Mozart's spirit from Haydn's hands.

But political events were moving quickly and Beethoven left for Vienna just in time. With the French army advancing rapidly into Germany and the Hessians rallying to meet the challenge, Beethoven reported that he had to tip the driver of the coach "one small thaler" because he "went like the devil right through the Hessian armies" to get to Vienna before active hostilities broke out. By 10 November, 1792, Beethoven was safely ensconced in that famous city and had entered an important new phase of his life.

The compositions of those last years in Bonn, other than the two unperformed cantatas, were mostly piano works and lieder (songs). But there were three piano quartets of particular importance composed in this period and we'll take a look at them in the next chapter.

A note on sources:

A good starting place for anyone seeking a more complete account of Beethoven's life would be the article on Beethoven by Joseph Kerman and Alan Tyson in Stanley Sadie, ed., The New Grove Beethoven (W. W. Norton & Company, 1997).

Of the many other Beethoven general biographies (or related studies) readily available, among the best are: Lewis Lockwood, Beethoven: The Music and the Life (W. W. Norton & Company, 2003), a well-rounded approach with a number of keen musical insights, including commentary on some of Beethoven's earliest chamber works; Maynard Solomon, Beethoven, rev. ed. (Schirmer, 2001); and also Solomon's Beethoven Essays (Harvard University Press, 1990), both particularly known for their psychoanalytical approach; Barry Cooper, Beethoven (The Master Musicians) (Oxford University Press, 2000), as well as Cooper's Beethoven and the Creative Process (Clarendon Press, 1990), and Cooper, ed., The Beethoven Compendium (Thames and Hudson, 1991); Scott Burnham's Beethoven Hero (Princeton University Press, 2000); also Scott Burnham, ed. and Michael P. Steinberg, ed., Beethoven and his World (Princeton University Press, 2000); and George R. Marek, Beethoven: Biography of a Genius (Apollo Editions, 1972). Not as recent as the others but still very valuable is Donald Francis Tovey, Beethoven, ed. Hubert J. Foss (Oxford University Press, 1944).

Perhaps the most comprehensive of the general biographies is Elliot Forbes, ed., Thayer's Life of Beethoven, Parts I & II (Princeton University Press, 1991 & 1967), still considered definitive by many, although critics have pointed out a number of errors. A special category of books offering insights into Beethoven's life are those written by Beethoven's peers and colleagues. Perhaps the most famous of these is Anton Felix Schindler's Beethoven as I Knew Him, ed. Donald W. MacArdle & trans. Constance S. Jolly (Dover Edition, 1966). Historians have challenged the accuracy of a number of his anecdotes over the years and Schindler does show a pronounced tendency toward self-aggrandizement. Nevertheless, it's a valuable study insofar as it reflects the early beginnings of the myth-making that began even when Beethoven was still alive. A similar but more trusted eye-witness account is Gerhard von Breuning's Memories of Beethoven: From the House of the Black-robed Spaniards, ed. Maynard Solomon (Cambridge University Press, 1992). Another important source of first-hand information from Beethoven's contemporaries is The Biographical Notes of Franz Wegeler and Ferdinand Ries, trans. Frederick Noonan (Great Ocean Publishers, 1987). Somewhat similar in nature is Oscar Sonneck's, Beethoven: Impressions by his Contemporaries (Dover Edition, 1967), which must be approached with a little caution but still can be a valuable resource.

No two sources tell Beethoven's story in exactly the same way, partially because the record is sometimes vague about some details of Beethoven's life and because eye-witness accounts (or what are presented as eye-witness accounts) are not always equally trusted by everyone.

Chapter 2

The Piano Quartets, WoO 36

The Piano Quartets

As a classic period chamber music genre, Piano quartets—consisting of piano, violin, viola & cello— are not as familiar as string quartets (two violins, viola, cello), piano trios (piano, violin, cello) or even string trios (usually violin, viola, cello). Mozart's Piano Quartet No. 1, K. 478, composed in 1785, is often described as the first major work in this genre. (Mozart was to write only one more piano quartet, and Haydn—so prolific in other chamber music forms—composed none).

Whether or not inspired by his beloved Mozart, Beethoven turned to the genre in 1785 and wrote three ambitious works. Although they may have served as entertainment for the court, all three were most likely meant—at least initially—to be played in an informal context: four musician friends playing for their own enjoyment, with Beethoven himself quite likely contributing as pianist. Joseph Kerman has made the point that Beethoven's early chamber music, especially his string quartets through at least the Op. 18 collection of six, was composed primarily for a "collegial" audience, an audience for which the players themselves formed the core. Playing chamber music in a small group was probably seen by most musicians (at least the more confident ones) as an experience superior to laboring away on the orchestral repertoire in a group of sixteen other strings with all parts doubled.

In a quartet, musicians were able to make an important contribution to the overall results and perhaps even add subtle expressive details of their own without derailing the group experience. Much has been said about the "conversational" nature of late eighteenth century chamber music, the idea that all of the participants are contributing equally to the whole and commenting wittily on each other's contributions. In most mature chamber music of this period (including Beethoven's string quartets of Op. 18), that quality is almost always present. These three early piano quartets show flashes of realizing that ideal but, on the whole, the piano tends to dominate a bit too much and the strings sometimes contribute too little to be considered equal partners. Still, that is, at least to a degree, to be expected. The piano was Beethoven's primary instrument. As a soloist, he was already starting to become known for his improvisational skills as well as for his interpretive skills. Besides, it had long been the tradition that when the piano was included in the chamber music mix, it often acted as the "first among equals." So perhaps the young Beethoven can be forgiven an over-zealous use of the piano and an underuse of the strings from time to time in this early works.

All three of the quartets show authentic points of interest, but we'll take our closest look at the first of the three piano quartets.

Piano Quartet in E-flat Major, WoO 36, No. 1

Mozart's Piano Quartet No. 1 in G Minor may have inspired Beethoven to take up the genre, but his first essay in the style is, as Lewis Lockwood has pointed out, modeled firmly on a different work by Mozart—his Sonata for Piano and Violin No. 35 in G major, K. 379.

The form for Beethoven's piano quartet is a bit unusual: only two movements, the first with a long slow introduction followed by an Allegro section, and the second a theme and variations—the exact same form used by Mozart in his sonata.

Movement I

Adagio Assai, E-flat major, 2/4

The introduction begins in E-flat major with a simple but elegant melody that circulates around the third of the chord (G) initially, and adds a touch of poignancy with an accented major seventh dissonance in the second measure. This is followed shortly thereafter by an ascending leap and a quick move to tonicize C minor. Right from the beginning Beethoven is manipulating dynamic levels in an attempt to generate a little drama. Fortes ("F" indicating loud) alternate with pianos ("P" indicating soft), sometimes with fortepianos ("FP" indicating suddenly loud followed immediately after by soft) inserted between them. All of this takes place in just the first four measures.

Ex. 1-A

From the relative minor (C minor), the tonality is shifted abruptly (and a little clumsily) back to E-flat and the first phrase is repeated with variation, solidly on tonic. To this point, all of the interesting melodic activity is in the piano, although the strings contribute a warm, full backdrop due to the double stops (two strings bowed at the same time) in the violin and viola parts. As indicated earlier, it isn't uncommon for the piano to dominate in chamber music combining strings and piano, although Beethoven's reliance on it in his earliest works may be a bit more than usual.

These first few bars provide the essence of the movement, or at least of the slow introduction that takes up more than half its length.

For the next several measures, the piano offers a series of embellished flourishes with some passing chromaticism spicing up a mostly conventional harmonic backdrop. But even here there are a few surprises. At one point the tonic chord of E-flat is given a flat seventh that transforms it into a secondary dominant. You would then expect such a chord to resolve up a fourth to the subdominant chord (on the fourth scale degree) according to the conventional harmonic grammar of the period. But it doesn't. Instead, the bass of that E-flat chord moves up a step chromatically and then resolves to an F minor chord (supertonic in the key). As soon as Beethoven introduces this subtlety, we immediately get a sense that we have moved on quite a bit from the Dressler Variations in terms of harmonic sensitivity.

The slow introduction is long and complex. After the initial theme in the tonic key of E-flat, there is a contrasting—and at times sweetly lyrical—theme in the key of the dominant (B-flat major), given over mostly to the violin and viola. Following this is a new and attractive (if largely conventional) closing theme. After a double bar and a repeat sign (although musicians since the twentieth century would be very unlikely to take that repeat), there is a coda that takes on the function of a development section in which some of the earlier themes are developed and the tonal center moves quickly from key to key, often wandering far afield from the original tonic key. So although this entire section initially appears to be "merely" a slow introduction to the movement, it takes on some of the functions of a sonata form in and of itself.

Slow introductions that seem to be mini-sonata forms are not particularly common, at least not at this point in history. Where does the idea come from? Probably from Mozart's Sonata No. 35 for piano and violin. Beethoven's form may be a bit unusual here, but it is unusual in much the same way that Mozart's movement is unusual.

Does Beethoven's long introduction match Mozart's in terms of its effectiveness or its appeal? Perhaps not. In the brief coda/development section at the end of the introduction, the piano and strings probably recycle some melodic ideas a little longer than they should. Even the interesting harmonies beneath can't prevent some passages from eventually becoming a bit tedious. Beethoven tries to compensate for that with sharp dynamic contrasts, but they eventually become predictable and lose their effectiveness. Nevertheless, when the Allegro con spirit arrives, it does so with an exciting burst of energy.

Once again the piano takes the lead.

Ex. 1-B

This section, in the somewhat unusual key of E-flat minor, is in the typical sonata form and the first theme consists of a rapidly ascending triad (a type of theme sometimes referred to as a "Mannheim skyrocket") that makes a powerful opening statement. Beethoven used a similar theme in the first movement of his first Piano Sonata in F Minor, Op. 2, No.1, to similar effect. Once again the strings are relegated to a secondary role, although the violin does pick up some significant activity briefly in measure 3. While the corresponding passage in Mozart's sonata uses a different sort of theme (but still one with a strong rhythmic identity), Mozart shifts the key to the parallel minor (from G major to G minor) to start the faster section of the movement just as in Beethoven's quartet.

Following this dramatic first theme, a modulation is made not to the relative major key of G-flat, which would be the conventional maneuver in a sonata from movement based on a minor key, but rather to the minor dominant (B-flat minor). The corresponding section in the Mozart sonata made the more conventional modulation to the relative major key of B-flat but, while Beethoven's scheme is somewhat unusual, there was ample precedent for modulating to the minor dominant in the works of Haydn and others. This modulatory transition to the new key of B-flat minor is energized by an (initially) ascending four-note motive that has inherited much of its dynamic quality from the first theme.

When the second theme arrives, it is linked to both the transition motive and the first theme in its triadic outline. The second theme is followed by a closing theme in which violin, viola and cello all take an active part and, after that, a quick drive to the cadence to end the exposition.

The development section begins by developing a free inversion of the first theme, but soon forsakes standard motivic manipulation to luxuriate in the rich sonorities of some slow moving chromatic chords (first hinted at in the modulatory transition) of which Beethoven seems quite proud. Perhaps the most exotic is a chord familiarly called a "Neapolitan sixth," a major chord in first inversion (i.e., the third of the chord in the bass) built on the flat second scale degree of the key.

It's a short development section, only twenty-five measures long, and the return of the first theme in the original key signals the start of the recapitulation somewhat before we expect it. From there on, things proceed more predictably: the two main themes return in the tonic minor key as expected. The coda takes a quick look backward at the first theme while displaying some clever harmonic ploys if its own. The whole movement ends on a surprisingly soft note with a simple, almost delicate cadence.

Movement II

Cantabile (Theme and Variations), E-flat major, 2/4

Although the first movement has some mildly unorthodox features, the young Beethoven was making no attempt to challenge tradition in this movement. His goal was simply to provide a pleasant tune and a series of attractive and idiomatic variations. The variation tradition of the late eighteenth century was, with some notable exceptions, a conservative one. Variation composers had no obligation to "transform" the original theme or reveal greater depth or profundity within it. This was done, occasionally, by composers on the level of Haydn and Mozart. But even those masters were at times perfectly content to take a pleasant melody—whether a popular tune of the day or one of their own composing—and spin out a set of attractive variations that were merely decorative in nature.

Beethoven's melody is a noble if modest little tune, featuring the piano with fully textured string accompaniment. It unfolds in two repeated eight-measure sections and features a rhythmic figure employing a dotted eighth note followed by two thirty-second notes as it circulates around the third of the chord (G once again). It proceeds in a graceful if conventional manner with a little "lift" provided in the sixth measure where the leap of a minor seventh coincides with a secondary dominant seventh chord—a V7 of V (i.e., an F-A-C-Eb chord that tonicizes the B-flat major chord that follows it). (See Ex. 2.) By no means unusual in itself, the coordination between the melodic leap and the chromatic chord that accompanies it is one of the best features of the melody and is nicely exploited in some of the variations to come.

Ex. 2

The most effective variation is probably the second, where the violin takes the lead with a decorative pattern of sixteenth-note triplets. In variation three, the viola takes over with a flurry of thirty-second notes, peaking nicely in measure 6 along with the one chromatic chord in the theme.

The rhythmic activity slows down a bit in the next variation as the cello takes over, but the fifth variation represents the climax as the piano introduces a series of leaping dotted-note figures that stride briskly and authoritatively through E-flat minor. The drama may seem a little forced in places, but the general effect remains stirring.

Variation six is predictably more low-key, but the string sonorities are at their most resonant and the entire variation makes an appropriate preparation for the final statement of the theme, no longer marked Cantabile but a perky little Allegretto. At first glance it may seem as if the theme has outworn its welcome, but the rousing little coda that follows it brings the movement to a satisfying, if surprisingly quiet, conclusion.

It would be difficult to contend that this early piano quartet is an "undiscovered masterpiece" or anything of that sort. On the other hand, both movements have their charms. The first shows some harmonic imagination surprising for such a young composer, with the modulatory transition and development sections in particular showing admirable rhythmic energy. So although the overall form of the piece seems a little out of proportion (notwithstanding the fact that it is based on a Mozartean model), this is a work worth exploring.

Piano Quartet in D Major, WoO 36, No. 2

The second in the set of early piano quartets follows a somewhat more conventional formal approach with three movements: the first is in the standard sonata allegro form, the second a more lyrical andante in binary (two-part) form, and the third a brisk rondo.

Movement I

Allegro Moderato, D Major, Common (4/4)

The first movement begins with a forceful (fortissimo) if unremarkable subject that asserts the tonic triad in octaves in the piano, evoking a military mood, especially in connection with the dotted eight and sixteenth note rhythms. The opening chord progression of I (D Maj)-vi (B Min)-IV (G Maj)-ii (E Min)—each chord a third lower than the one before it— is common enough, but nevertheless makes an emphatic statement. After a quiet, contrasting two-bar link, the strings present the same theme a bit more softly. A conventional modulatory passage follows in which the key transitions to the expected key of the dominant (A major). Here the second subject is presented quietly, first by the piano with the upper strings filling in the harmonies. This theme is also characterized by strong rhythms, including some light syncopations. The first four-measure phrase is then repeated more vigorously with the violin taking the lead. Another transitional passage occurs, and the third theme (sometimes called "closing theme" or "closing section") is presented in the first violin. This theme contrasts nicely with the two previous ones; it's dominated by eighth-note triplets and features an effective mix of slurs and staccato notes that help to distinguish it. The piano accompanies the theme with eighth-note triplet arpeggios and the viola and cello add off-beat chords to provide a little additional rhythmic interest. All things considered, this is probably the best "tune" in the movement. All of this, including the somewhat extended codetta area that follows, stays in the key of A major, as the exposition section comes to an end.

The development section is a bit disappointing. It's dominated by gently syncopated motives that have little to do with any of the main themes of the exposition. Beethoven uses typically abrupt fluctuations of loud and soft in an effort to add a bit of intensity, but these sharp contrasts don't really seem inherent in the material and they come across as a bit forced. Understandably, it takes the youthful composer a little more time to learn how to come up with the sort of musical ideas that better lend themselves to sharp dynamic contrasts of the sort he employs here. At this point the spirit is willing but the motivic ideas do not keep pace.

When, after the brief, obligatory dash through a number of different tonal areas has run its course, Beethoven begins the recapitulation with a repeat of the first subject back in the home tonic of D Major, opening as before with a statement by the piano followed by one from the strings. After a short transition (which does not really modulate this time), the second theme returns, not in its original key of A (the dominant) but in the home tonic of D. The third (or "closing") theme then also comes back in the key of D and, as it is spun out (in a section that corresponds loosely to the original codetta), we encounter some of the most interesting chromatic progressions of the movement. Of course it's all for show, because before long we're solidly back in D major. Following this somewhat adventurous recapitulation of the original codetta section, we launch into the "real" coda, which drives to the final cadence with syncopated rhythms in the strings and flashing sixteenth notes in the piano. Nevertheless, the movement again ends rather quietly, with an unexpected plagal cadence (IV-I, or subdominant [G] to tonic [D]).

Movement II

Andante con moto, F-sharp Minor, 3/4

The slow movement is a mild disappointment. The initial melody, doubled by piano and violin with accompanying chords, is centered closely around the outlines of the tonic and dominant chords and only its "off-beat" quality lends it real interest. After a move to the relative major (A major) brought about by conventional figuration patterns, the second theme is introduced. Somewhat more interesting because of its combination of dotted rhythms and syncopations and its variety of articulations (balanced between slurs and staccatos), the melody is entrusted to the violin and it soars impressively over the rhythmic accompaniment provided by the piano. The viola takes over briefly and the two flow lyrically in thirds to bring the melody to a close.

This, unfortunately, represents the high point of the first half of the movement. The remainder descends into somewhat sinuous but repetitive scale patterns and half-hearted attempts at picking up the rhythmic momentum. The closing idea for this first half is built on a rather unobtrusive stepwise motive marginally enlivened by the use of pizzicato in the strings.

As the second half of the movement begins, still in A major, it seems clear that the young composer believes that there is still more to be squeezed out of the stepwise motive that ended the first half. And it's possible that later Beethoven could in fact have worked some magic in this regard. But there's little evidence of magic here, and the development of the already over-worked idea is somewhat tedious. A listener may find it a welcome relief when the music starts to modulate to C# minor, in which key we eventually hear a variant of Beethoven's first theme reintroduced. But Beethoven grows weary of his tune and it soon becomes clear that it's just a vehicle to take us to the next tonal area. The second theme returns once again, this time in F# minor and, in its minor key transformation, it's more impressive than before. But it soon dies away and Beethoven resorts once again to the sinuous, yet ultimately dry idea with which he closed the first half of the movement. Once again the use of pizzicato in the strings adds some temporary color, but the conclusion of the movement is fairly weak, perhaps to set up a strong contrast with the sparkling rondo movement that is to follow.

Movement III

Allegro, D major, 6/8

Beethoven's rondo theme (often referred to as a "refrain") is not of striking originality, but it's effective in the context of this fast-paced movement.

It begins with a robust two-bar phrase that arpeggiates first the tonic and then the dominant chord before returning to tonic. (See Ex. 3.) This is followed by a more sensuous stepwise passage doubled in thirds that ends on the dominant and provides a nice contrast with the first phrase. The entire four bars are repeated, this time ending on tonic. The entire eight-bar section is then repeated, this time with the strings joining in and the volume pushed up to forte. The first violin takes up the theme with the piano switching over to an even more active accompaniment of pulsating sixteenth-note arpeggios.

So the refrain theme, sixteen measures in total, may be conventional in its form and presentation, but it displays a lot of energy and gets the movement off to a flying start.

Ex. 3

The typical late eighteenth century rondo form alternates the refrain theme with a series of contrasting episodes. These episodes may have a distinctively melodic nature or they may simply be contrasting passages of figuration, i.e., fast moving scale passages and chordal arpeggiations (or they can be a combination of both). The first episode in this rondo falls more into the second category. It begins with a sixteenth note flurry of arpeggiated notes (albeit at the dynamic level of piano) expressing B major. But the B major chord is quickly seen as s preparation for E minor (since it is the secondary dominant of E minor) and E minor soon gives way to A major, the dominant of the key and the typical destination for a first episode. But while it arrives on an A major chord, it never really succeeds in being in the key of A major. After a brief chromatic link supplied by the piano alone, we plunge back into the original key of D major and the refrain theme recurs at its original dynamic marking of piano. This time it's truncated into a single eight-bar statement shared by piano and strings with the violin picking up the tune in the fifth measure and the dynamic level raised back to forte. All of this is pretty normal; when the refrain theme comes back in a rondo, it's typical (but not automatic) for the refrain theme to be somewhat abbreviated.

At this point the experienced late-eighteenth-century listener would expect a second episode. And that's what we get, although not before a transition section of some length. Initially in this transition we seem to be making a serious attempt to modulate in the direction of B minor, But in the end it's all a mirage, and in a passage dominated by vigorous sixteenth-note scale passages alternating with softer arpeggio patterns, Beethoven once again makes his way to the dominant of A major. What is of most interest in transitional passages like this is not the melody (which is often on the non-distinct generic side) or even the final tonal destination (which in a case like this is probably going to be the dominant) but the harmonic route taken to get to the goal. And in this case Beethoven's route is an interesting one and has you guessing for a little while. But when all is said in done, we still end on an A major chord, which acts as a dominant to launch us into the next episode, back in the original tonic of D major.

Counting this new episode, the form of the movement to this point is: A (original refrain in tonic)—B (episode no. 1, ending on the dominant)—A (a return of the original refrain in truncated form)—C (the new episode, starting securely in the original tonic of D major but, as we will see, modulating off into other areas).

The experienced listener would expect something very much like this. Certainly the performing musicians themselves would, as well as any other musicians—professional or amateur—in the audience. But even the (at this point) largely aristocratic audience members would have fairly well developed expectations as to form and style when sitting down to listen to a piece of chamber music. Could they have articulated these expectations in precise musical terms? Probably not. But they would have possessed them nevertheless, particularly if listening to this sort of music was a common pastime for them, as it probably was, especially those connected with the Elector's court.

This is not to suggest that chamber music of this type was not sometimes used as "mere" background music with no one—or at least not the entire audience—paying rapt attention to every nuance. As with any experience of the arts, different listeners bring different backgrounds and different levels of experience and commitment to fully focusing on the artistic experience. But there were enough listeners who had well developed expectations for listening to this type of music so that composers like Beethoven could take advantage of those expectations. At times the composer would fulfill the listener's expectations to the letter, giving the listener a secure sense that they knew what was going on in the music—that they were "keeping up," as it were. But at other times the composer—especially the older and more experienced Beethoven—would play with those expectations—sometimes fulfilling them, sometimes denying them, and sometimes appearing to deny them only to fulfill them in a roundabout way (or vice versa).

In this movement, Beethoven would seem to be satisfying the listener's expectations most of the time, simply filling up a standardized form with interesting, attractive content. But the second episode (indicated as "C" above) presents a mild surprise; the second episode normally comes in the key of the subdominant (or IV, which would be G major in the key of D) or submediant (or vi, which would be B minor in the key). But this episode, based on a clever little three-note motive echoed back and forth between the piano and the upper strings, begins in A major, the key of the dominant. It doesn't stay there long, however; after eight bars, it is restated in the key of D, the key of the subdominant, which is one of the "normal" key areas for the second episode.

So Beethoven's little "surprise"—i.e., introducing the second episode in the "wrong" key—doesn't last for very long. And, frankly, it probably wouldn't have sounded very surprising to most of the audience members to begin with. But the device of starting in the "wrong" key allows Beethoven to inject a little tonal variety so that his clever little melody doesn't quickly become tedious. Following the two statements of his episode melody (one in A major, the other in D major), Beethoven introduces a new two-bar motive in A major. It's a clever little motive—sounding very much like a phrase out of a Mozart opera buffa—and Beethoven repeats it a number of times before moving on to a passage that is best described as a retransition to the original tonic key in preparation for the return of the refrain. Beethoven has one more small trick up his sleeve when it comes to bringing back the refrain: he initially brings it back, not in the key of the original tonic as expected, but in the key of the dominant, sort of a "preview" of its official return when the key actually does arrive at the original tonic of D a few measures later.

From this point on, things proceed more or less in accordance with expectations. The refrain theme, slightly altered, is brought back in its "long" version. It's followed by a long transition of swirling sixteenth note patterns, mostly in B minor but eventually modulating more freely through G major and elsewhere. This transition, although it displays a lot of energy and some interesting harmonic progressions, would seem to go on a little longer than necessary. But eventually, after a two-measure break where the tempo shifts to Adagio and a long, chromatic line toys with the listener for a bit, we have a return to the shortened version of the refrain theme. Following the return of the refrain is a short transition to the third episode (B') which is, not surprisingly, a variant of the first episode, now appearing in the tonic key and sounding more coquettish than ever.

This is followed by a short and more highly ornamented return of the refrain theme, which is interrupted prematurely by a sparkling drive to the final cadence. So the overall form for this rondo is A-B-A-C-A-B'-A, often referred to as a "ternary rondo" and rather typical for the period, with the only slight deviations being the keys chosen for the middle episode and the fact that Beethoven brings back the third refrain in the "wrong" key for the first few measures. While neither of those deviations from standard late-eighteenth century rondo form can be seen as particularly earth-shattering, they do show that Beethoven was at this point perfectly willing to take a few liberties with the established forms of the period if he thought they would make for a more interesting composition.

Although by no means groundbreaking, this quartet has a few interesting quirks of its own, as well as some rhythmically energetic themes and some intriguing harmonic passages. It does not display any particular adroitness when it comes to developing motives or themes, but that may be less a question of instinct than of experience, and the young Beethoven, at this point in his career, was more richly endowed with the former than with the latter.

Piano Quartet in C Major, WoO 36, No. 3

Beethoven's third piano quartet follows the traditional three movement form of a fast first movement in sonata form, a slower, more lyrical second movement, and a faster third movement in rondo form.

Movement I

Allegro vivace, C major, Common time (4/4)

The Allegro vivace begins somewhat mundanely with a first theme that starts with a gradually elaborated tonic chord accompanied by alternating sf and piano markings.

Ex. 4

Of course it's not unusual for late eighteenth century composers to make use of simple triadic patterns for thematic material. The military connotations for triad-based melodies have already been mentioned and the "heroic" operas of composers such as Mehul were notorious for them.

Beethoven used major triads as primary melodic material on a number of occasions, perhaps most famously eight years later in the first movement of his Symphony No. 3 in E-flat Major, Op. 55, the "Eroica" Symphony. Of course Beethoven's use of the tonic triad in that instance was somewhat more sophisticated, introducing into the unfolding E-flat triad an "alien" C#, the meaning of which only becomes clear many measures later in the recapitulation section of the movement.

No such ambiguity colors Beethoven's reliance on the tonic triad here, although trills and the use of lower neighbors do provide a little local color. And the relatively slow-moving opening measures are soon balanced by faster passages including eighth and sixteenth notes suggesting, once again, the bustling atmosphere of an opera buffa overture.

Harmonically, the opening is equally static, consisting basically of an alternation of tonic and dominant chords. In fact, in respect to both melody and harmony, this is probably Beethoven's least promising opening to a movement among the three piano quartets.

But things perk up fairly quickly. The modulatory transition that will carry us to the key of G major makes use of some clever ideas, especially a series of interlocking dotted rhythms between the piano and upper strings creating something like a musical hiccup effect.

The second subject is more sustained and lyrical, if lacking any sharply distinctive features. Harmonically, it's a bit more interesting than the first subject, employing secondary dominant chords and some expressive nonharmonic tones to give it a little more flavor. The theme is spun out to a length of thirteen measures and is followed by a closing section in the key of G minor. The closing section, dominated once again by the piano, is actually quite active harmonically speaking; the strong chromatic chord progression is generated by a descending bass line that falls from G down to C# before starting to ascend. As the closing section moves toward the codetta, it reintroduces the interlocking dotted rhythms first heard in the transition to the second subject. The codetta mirrors these interlocking rhythms before driving briskly to the final cadence in G that closes the exposition.

In a typical classic period sonata form, the development section begins where the exposition ends—the key of the dominant (in this case, G major). But Beethoven begins this development by plunging into E-flat major, a key remote from both the tonic of C major and the dominant of G major.

It's mostly for shock value, of course; Beethoven doesn't stay in this "exotic" key for very long. The root of the chord—the Eb—soon slips up a half step to an E natural as part of a dominant seventh chord (C-E-G-Bb) that will, just a few measures later, resolve to F major. Beethoven decides to stay in this new key for a while and presents the first subject in it. Considering that this is a development section, there isn't really a lot of "developing" going on, at least not initially. The first theme is quoted almost note-for-note, and then the composer starts to churn through a number of standard arpeggio figures as we race through a few different tonal centers—first D minor and then G minor—neither very far removed from F major. Beethoven does throw in a few interesting chromatic chords along the way, including the use of an unexpected diminished seventh chord to bring about an abrupt and unexpected change of harmonic direction.

Beethoven also engages in some more typical "development" procedures as he gets closer to G minor; the first measure of the closing section theme makes an appearance and gets tossed around a bit. After about 4 bars, Beethoven grows weary of G minor and we arrive at C minor, at which point the violin and viola begin to make more important contributions to the action with plunging sixteenth-note scale lines and references to the interlocking dotted-note motive of the codetta. An effective harmonic sequence (chromatic chords dropping down by fifth) speeds up the harmonic rhythm (i.e., the speed at which new chords are introduced) but puts us right back where we started in C minor. Soon after that, a dissonant diminished chord on F# (over a pedal on G) gets us ready for the recapitulation section.

Unfortunately, we lose a little momentum at this point as the development section more or less peters out with the repetition of a stepwise chromatic motive that keeps doubling back on itself and, when the first theme is reintroduced in the original tonic of C major, it really doesn't seem like a particularly climactic moment. But there is at least some novelty to behold; the transition section following the first theme is characterized by a new syncopated idea in the first violin that adds some rhythmic life to the proceedings. In classic sonata forms, the transition in the recapitulation section is always different from the comparable transition in the exposition if for no other reason than this time around (i.e., in the recapitulation), the key will ultimately stay in the tonic, whereas in the exposition section, the key would have modulated to the dominant (usually) at that point. So the transition section in the recapitulation will sometimes "feign" rather elaborate modulations by introducing secondary dominant chords that give the fleeting impression of a change the key, but no lasting modulation will actually take place.

In this particular instance, Beethoven's transition doesn't do much of anything, harmonically speaking, mostly going back and forth between the tonic and dominant chords. But there is something of a quirk in this recapitulation: Beethoven doesn't bother to restate the second subject in the tonic key, although he hints at it a bit. Why? Is it because the second theme wasn't that remarkable to begin with? For whatever reason, Beethoven hurries on to the closing section motive and then, after that, to the codetta motive of interlocking dotted rhythms. This seems to be the theme he is most interested in and, as we move farther into the coda, it's this idea that dominates, although he does pause briefly for a quieter motive that serves to de-escalate the momentum briefly, just so he can start it up again with renewed vigor. And once the energy level is re-established, it remains high, as a series of swirling figuration patterns in the piano escort us (with relatively little assistance from the strings) safely to the final chord of the movement.

Movement II

Adagio con espressione, F major, 3/4

This very successful movement, modeled as Lewis points out, on Mozart's C Major Violin Sonata, K. 296, starts with a lovely, expansive melody beginning with an ascending major sixth (a leap from C to A, the third of the tonic chord).

Ex. 5

The piano takes the lead with the violin (initially) moving largely in sweet-sounding major sixths against the melody but showing some independence as well. The harmony is not complex, mostly tonic and dominant chords, but it doesn't have to be. The warmth and elegance of the melody carries the day. The only (slight) awkwardness occurs in the fourth full measure where Beethoven, in an apparent attempt to generate a little dramatic tension, alternates p and f through a series of chromatic sixteenth notes leading into the varied repeat of the four-bar melody. This doesn't really seem to fit the circumstances and comes off sounding more like an empty mannerism. The final two bars of the consequent phrase, featuring the piano duetting with the viola in thirds, echo the initial major sixth leap but follow it with a gradually descending flow of sixteenth notes leading to a gentle cadence on tonic.

The second period also consists of two phrases, the second of which is simply a repetition of the second phrase of the first period, giving a "rounded binary" feel to the first half of the movement. Even in this second period there is not a lot of harmonic variety, but a very sensitive use of nonharmonic tones (especially the embellished F against a dominant seventh chord in the first measure) provides plenty of color.

The entire first portion of the movement is only sixteen bars long, consisting of the two eight-bar periods. The second portion is longer and a little less neatly proportioned, dividing into a seventeen-measure subsection followed (after an expressive fermata or "hold") by an eight-bar variant of the opening melody, a florid linking passage, and a brief but elegant coda to finish off the movement.

There is only one distinctive melodic idea here and Beethoven is obviously eager to show it off. But it is a fine melody (Beethoven thought enough of it to appropriate it in detail for the Adagio movement of his F Minor Piano Sonata, Op., No. 2) and, because of it, this slow movement is clearly the most effective of any in the three early piano quartets.

Movement III

Allegro, C major, Alla breve

Once again Beethoven makes use of the familiar rondo form for the final movement. The melody of the refrain starts inconspicuously enough with a simple but forceful descent in eighth notes from the upper octave of the tonic (C) down to the dominant (G). (See Ex. 6.)

Still, there is some rhythmic energy right from the beginning, due in part to the ornamentation and variety in articulation, and there is an "affective" gesture in the second measure that lifts the theme from the commonplace. On the downbeat of that measure, the melody leaps from the dissonant ninth of the dominant chord (A), down to the seventh of that chord (F), which in turn skips down another third to D. The result is a subtle but compelling hint of nostalgia that makes its effect every time the refrain recurs.

Ex. 6

The second phrase of the refrain theme starts like the first but makes it way down to the tonic. A varied repeat (with the melody going to the violin) of the entire eight-measure period follows, all of which is grounded in simple harmonies, mostly alternations of tonic and dominant. But although the refrain melody may be simple, it displays a high level of energy and just enough melodic distinctiveness to be memorable.

In the transition that follows, off-beat string pizzicatos provide some pleasant textural variety and an unexpected side trip to the dominant minor provides some harmonic spice. After a quick tour of the keys of E-flat and C minor, a clever harmonic turnaround takes us back to G major.

The first episode (in G) is not particularly remarkable melodically, but an interesting use of secondary dominant chords keeps the momentum up, and the cello is allowed to be somewhat more independent than usual as it echoes the opening phrase in the piano and upper strings.

Following this, there is a fairly quick retransition marked by a return of the pizzicato strings and some fairly standard figuration patterns. Not much is happening harmonically at this point, but it doesn't take much to modulate from the key of the dominant (G) back home to tonic so almost before we know it, we're back to C major and the refrain theme is reintroduced.

The refrain is brought back in its entirety—the first eight bars featuring piano, the next eight the violin. Following the concluding cadence on tonic, a measure-long chromatic line in the piano leads us directly into the next episode (the "C" episode in the typical A-B-A-C-B-A pattern of a rondo). Even though the key of A minor (vi in the key of C major) is a "normal" one for the second episode, the direct plunge into this new key still takes us by surprise. The second episode is based on a catchy little tune with a strong rhythmic identity. Typical of Beethoven, it alternates dynamic extremes, going back and forth quickly between piano and forte. Although the entire theme is rhythmically distinctive, the melody and harmonic rhythm actually become more active as it unfolds, allowing the theme to increase its momentum along the way.

The episode somewhat unexpectedly ends its first two-phrase period on the dominant minor chord (E minor), but the second period immediately reasserts the "normal" major dominant chord and we're back securely in the key of A minor as the second period arrives. Here, the viola and violin exchange thematic phrases while the piano, just for a few seconds, takes a subsidiary role. The first, rhythmically dynamic phrase of the first period is brought back at the end of the section, giving a rounded binary feel. Taken as a whole, this is a particularly clever episode, quite a bit more interesting than the first.

After a brief break in the action, we encounter a short retransition. Harmonically, this is fairly blunt. There's no real modulation from the key of A minor where the previous episode ended. There is only a pause of five beats, after which we instantly find ourselves in d minor, which will be the beginning of a journey back to the key of C major. This transition does have a few individual elements: the rhythms have a certain "stop and go" quality and, as it proceeds, an interlocking rhythm first introduced in the previous episode recurs briefly. All told, it takes eighteen measures to bring us back to the refrain theme, which is introduced, as usual, softly. The entire refrain is heard, after which Beethoven proceeds directly to the coda, leaving out the third episode. So the form for this rondo is only A-B-A-C-A (coda), often referred to as a "short" rondo form for obvious reasons.

The coda quickly plows through a number of secondary dominant chords to temporarily confuse the tonality. For a time, it almost seems as if Beethoven is heading for a third episode. But finally, in the last few measures, he reaffirms the tonic of C major and brings us to a lusty final cadence and the conclusion of the entire piece.

Summary: The Piano Quartets

There is no question that each of the three piano quartets has its delightful moments. The first of the three, in E-flat major, despite its being based on a Mozartean model, is probably the least satisfactory in terms of its formal proportions. But it does feature some strong themes and intriguing harmonic quirks.

The second and third quartets are, on the whole, more likable at first listen. The first movements do not feature the most distinctive thematic material, but both exploit chromatic transition passages that are quite clever and attractive. Beethoven's development sections in the first movement sonata forms lack the power and intensity associated with the corresponding sections in his later works, but that's only to be expected.

The thematic material in the slow movement of the D major quartet may be unremarkable, but the slow movement for the C major quartet more than makes up for it with its endearing melody. Both rondo movements are strong; they sparkle with energy and are well-paced.

In general, the degree of integration of the violin, viola and (especially) cello parts may leave something to be desired compared to, for example, the piano trios of Op. 1, but the domination of the piano is hardly surprising given the models then available to Beethoven and his natural reliance on his primary instrument.

Taken as a whole, these works of the fifteen-year old Beethoven may not match the consistent standard of excellence we associate with so many of Mozart's early works, but they are attractive nonetheless and certainly worth the attention of any Beethoven-lover.

Chapter 3

Two Early Trios and a Duo, WoO 37. WoO 38, WoO 26

We'll look briefly at three more compositions from the Bonn period, the Trio in G Major for Flute, Bassoon and Cembalo (Piano), WoO 37 (1786), and two later works, the Piano Trio in E-flat Major, WoO 38 (1790-91) and the Duo for Flutes WoO 26 (1791).

Trio for Flute, Bassoon and Cembalo (Piano) in G Major, WoO 37

As Beethoven's reputation as a composer (as well as performer and improviser) grew, it was only natural that the music-loving families of Bonn would seek to commission works from him for their own use. A prime example of this is the trio for Flute, Bassoon and Cembalo (Piano) written for the von Westerhold family in Bonn. Count von Westerhold , chief equerry to the Elector, would have played the bassoon part, his son the flute and his daughter, Maria (one of many young ladies with whom Beethoven was temporarily enamored) the piano. There is no question that these "amateurs" were quite skilled musicians; Beethoven writes formidable parts for each of them, particularly the pianist, whose reputation as a fine player was well established. And this work, although certainly playful and high-spirited enough, is more ambitious than one might suspect. Beethoven has taken no shortcuts here and all three movements are reasonably lengthy.

Movement I

Allegro, G major, Alla breve

The first movement is in the traditional sonata form and opens with a fairly conventional triadic theme, robust and majestic in nature. The first phrase marches steadfastly around the G major triad, but a well-placed little grace note in the third bar hints that the music to come will have its lighter side as well. The rest of the first theme plays out in a series of alternating staccato and lyrical phrases.

The modulatory transition, free from the obligation to carry important thematic material, provides Beethoven with a natural opportunity to insert bursts of virtuoso activity for the three soloists and he does so admirably. The pianist offers up brisk chordal arpeggios alternating with frenetic passages of sixteenth notes from the flutist and bassoonist, giving all three of them plenty of opportunities to display their digital dexterity.

The second theme or "subject" (or actually the first of two "second subjects") is in the key of the dominant (D) as usual, and is more rhythmically and harmonically varied than the first theme. But, strangely enough, Beethoven abandons it quickly after a five-bar statement in favor of a new, cleverly syncopated melody that extends for eight bars. This second melodic idea is actually less interesting that the first harmonically, but its catchy short-long-short pattern and a clever use of chromatic neighbor tones gives it a more distinctive character. While the first theme or subject that began the movement was dominated by the piano, this new theme is shared nicely between piano, flute and bassoon. Rapid dynamic fluctuations between soft and loud also add to the theme's dynamic quality and seem more natural and appropriate here than in some of the other circumstances where the young Beethoven employs a similar device.

After Beethoven's attractive "second" second subject has run its course, we hear a clearly transitional passage dominated by some sparkling runs from the piano. After about sixteen bars of this, the closing theme appears. The key is D minor (moving to the minor dominant at this point is a typical Beethoven gesture that other composers also exploit from time to time) and it features the bassoon in a wistful, lyrical melody that may be the best tune yet. After just four bars, this theme is presented by the flute in F major, a key in which it sounds quite a bit warmer and possibly even more attractive. But we're back in D minor quickly, and Beethoven toys with us a little by repeatedly embellishing the dominant with an "exotic" chromatic chord—a so-called "German sixth" chord. When he finally pauses on the dominant, we expect to hear something like a codetta, which is often no more than a final drive to the cadence to end the exposition.

But that's not exactly what we get. Instead, Beethoven gives us yet another "new" theme in D minor, but one that actually sounds quite familiar because it's basically an interesting elaboration of what we called the "second" second theme above (the syncopated one that enters after the initial second theme). This theme, presented first in the piano and then in flute and bassoon in parallel tenths (notes that are an octave plus a third away from each other) is almost Rossini-like, although the young Rossini was years away from developing his distinctive melodic style at that time.

This abundance of strong melodies (theme "groups" rather than single themes) all squeezed into the exposition is something more frequently associated with Mozart than with Beethoven, but the latter seems to have gone out of his way to make this movement (and the entire work) very attractive to the musical family that commissioned it by supplying it with a wealth of attractive tunes.

After this most recent theme runs its colorful course, we hear a series of fast-moving passages in all three instruments that deliver us to the "real" codetta and the exposition rushes to its conclusion.

The development section, beginning in D minor, starts with a strong unison statement followed by a theme inspired by the closing theme first heard in the bassoon. The key of D minor quickly (and rather abruptly) gives way to E minor where the same theme is treated. A circle of fifths sequence in set up (a common ploy for a development section) although Beethoven does break the pattern with a clever chromatic substitution at one point. Things appear to take on a more serious bent as we approach the end of the development section in G minor. At this point, the tempo slows to Adagio as flute and bassoon contribute to this new found seriousness of purpose with long lyrical lines steeped in mock tragedy. But it's all part of the game, of course, as Beethoven makes clear with a couple of coquettish little staccato notes that lead us to the recapitulation.

The recapitulation proceeds along predictable lines until we get to the point where we expect the second theme to be brought back, this time in the original tonic of G. But the "initial" second theme never makes a reappearance, although the "second" second theme—the catchier, syncopated one—does come back and is prominently displayed.

When the closing theme is recapitulated, the one originally played by the bassoon in D minor, it returns in G minor rather than G major, probably because Beethoven felt it would lose too much of its wistful character if brought back in a major key.

The coda consists of a sprightly remapping of the clever little codetta motive mentioned earlier and a short but buoyant drive to the final cadence.

Movement II

Adagio, G minor, 2/4

The initial Adagio melody, presented by the piano and harmonized by the bassoon, is of limited range, mostly moving between the tonic and fifth of the key. But it's not without some expressive details: mordents are abundant and there are some telling nonharmonic tones, especially an accented ninth in the third measure. The second statement of the entire seven-measure melody gives the solo flute an opportunity to take on the tune in a more ornate version.

After these initial statements of the theme, it is subject to variation (losing much of its identity in the process) as it begins to modulate toward the key of B-flat. Upon arriving in the new key, a more diffuse second theme is heard, with the bassoon and especially the flute taking off on flights of scalar fancy. Beethoven again makes use of rapid alterations between f and p, with a few fp's thrown in for good measure, but the sharp contrasts in volume seem once again to be a bit forced.

The next strong melodic idea emerges in the second half of the movement: a graceful triplet-based Italianate melody. But some twelve measures later Beethoven is on the move again; a short, repeated flute motive is heard taking us through D minor. This melodic idea, attractive though it is, never undergoes much development, as the remainder of the movement seems more concerned with moving through various tonal areas on the way back to G minor.

Movement III

Thema andante con variazione, G major, 2/4

Beethoven's theme for this movement is a modest affair, moving gradually up the scale and coming back down in much the same fashion in its first four bars. The second four-bar phrase largely echoes the first with the flute doubling the piano up an octave. If there is a standout feature, it's probably the abundance of trills, but the first eight bars (which are repeated) are mostly unremarkable. The second period (also repeated) offers a little variety at first, moving modestly in the direction of A minor and employing some mild syncopation. But, typically for the form, the last four bars simply repeat the last four bars of the first period.

Variation I is a prissy little music box of a variation that is based primarily on sixteenth- note piano arpeggio patterns but does engage the flute, and especially the bassoon, a little more actively than the initial statement of the theme had. The high point is probably the creative use of nonharmonic tones in the second section of the variation.

The bassoon takes center stage for Variation II, stretching its wings with a series of eighth note triplets liberally embellished with ornamentation. The second part of the variation begins with some clever little harmonic substitutions in the opening chords. While by no means extraordinary for the period, these little "adjustments" still have a major impact because the theme itself is relatively bland, harmonically speaking.

Variation III has an interesting personality: arpeggiated sixteenth-note triplets keep the rhythmic momentum up while piano and flute play against the triplets with dotted sixteenth-thirty-second note figures and the bassoon leaps around vigorously.

Variation IV changes to 6/8 meter and shows the bassoon in a more plaintive and vaguely exotic vein. This, along with the G minor tonality, suggests that this may be the most "serious" of the variations. The second section follows suit, again with some small but telling deviations in the harmonic structure associated with the original theme.

But the hint of seriousness is short lived; Variation V is back in G major and we are in for little more than a "flying fingers" variation featuring the piano in a sizzling flow of thirty-second notes, mostly in chordal arpeggiations.

For Variation VI, the flute comes forward with equally ambitious scalewise flurries, eventually joined by the piano in parallel thirds. As in the previous variation, the effect is breathless and the staccato articulations difficult to pull off at even a moderate tempo.

Variation VII is a jaunty march-like variation with flute and piano dominating but with the bassoon taking a more active role in places. Following this display of energy, the original theme is reintroduced at a brighter tempo (thankfully) and moves uneventfully to its conclusion, with a short but friendly frolic of a coda. In fact, the whole movement may be described with ample justification as a friendly frolic—brimming with good nature if not a lot of originality.

One of the words that almost necessarily comes to mind for a commissioned work such as this trio is "Gebrauchsmusik," a German term associated with the twentieth-century composer Paul Hindemith, although not originated by him. The term is usually taken to mean "functional" music or "music for use," sometimes "utility" music. Since "functional" music is often taken to be the opposite of "artistic" music, it's obvious that the term has taken on some negative connotations over the years. In one sense this piece is, of course, very much an example of "functional" music, composed to satisfy a very specific performance need. But that description would hold for a great deal of music written in the late eighteenth century, some of which is very "artistic" indeed. This particular trio may not be among the most "artistic" examples of "functional" or "utility" music in its period, but that is not to say that it is not well-crafted or devoid of artistic value. There is much that is interesting about Beethoven's trio for flute, bassoon and piano and some things that are rather compelling. It appears to be well-tailored to the needs of the musicians who commissioned it and very likely provided them with great enjoyment in playing it. As Angus Watson has pointed out, Beethoven's trio is "a most engaging party piece."

Allegro and Minuet in G Major, WoO 26, for Two Flutes

Beethoven composed this work for Johann Degenhart before leaving for Vienna in 1792. The little piece was presumably a thank you gift from the composer to Degenhart, who had prepared for him a farewell album documenting the good wishes of many of Beethoven's Bonn friends.

Movement I

Allegro con brio, G major, Alla breve

The first theme is fairly commonplace, moving up the scale in broken third patterns before fluttering back down the scale to tonic. The melodic phrases unfold in conventional fashion, the second four bars repeating the first up a step. The harmony proceeds mostly in parallel sixths and thirds, standard operating procedure for a late-eighteenth century duet of this type.

After a few bars of scale passages, the main melodic idea migrates from flute I to flute II, but this new section soon turns into a modest modulatory transition. The descending scale motive from the third and fourth measures of the theme is broken off and used as the vehicle to bring about the modulation. The transition is simple enough, but the two flutes do show somewhat more independence as we drive toward the key of the dominant.

The second theme is a bit less rhythmically active and more lyrical in style. Beethoven reduces the activity level of flute II largely to off-beat quarter notes, providing a nice contrast to the almost constant motion of the first theme. After eight bars the two flutes exchange parts, a change that doesn't really result in a lot of contrast given the circumstances. The melody is modified slightly and extended by a couple of measures until a new closing theme arrives, one characterized by staccato repeated notes and long tones. This is followed by a mini-codetta and we come to the end of the exposition, although there is no double bar to mark it.

Even though the scale of movement is quite small, Beethoven still insists on a development section of sorts. The key changes to G minor and flute I proceeds in longer note values while flute II provides Alberti bass support (basically moving up and down the notes of the chord). All of this lyrical expansiveness provides a nice contrast with the "busyness" of the exposition. As in virtually all development sections, there is some modulation going on, but it's fairly modest here— basically a prolonged visit to the key of B-flat major followed by a chromatic return to G minor. Still, it does the job, whipping up a little harmonic tension that is then resolved by the return of the tonic key of G major. The recapitulation flows along predictable lines with the one quirk being the absence of the second subject, replaced by a rhythmically distinctive coda motive that does a nice job of escalating the momentum before the final cadence.

Movement II

Menuetto quasi allegretto, G major, 3/4

The minuet melody is simple but elegant, beginning with an ascending leap of a major sixth and unfolding in a series of symmetrical two-bar phrases, the second of which replicates the first a third lower. It's a nice mixture of staccato articulations and lyrical phrases. Harmonic support—simple alternations of tonic and dominant— is provided by the second flute primarily through broken third patterns.

After the initial statement of the eight-bar melody, a familiar pattern asserts itself; the melody begins to repeat but soon the original shape is modified to allow for a modest modulation to E minor, the submediant (vi) of the key.

It does not stay in this new key very long. After a double bar (and repeat), the next section moves quickly toward C major and then A minor, beneath a melodic idea that initially seems new, but turns out to be based largely on the third phrase of the original minuet melody. Our stay in the area of A minor is brief indeed, and before long we return to G major and the first eight bars of the minuet are repeated in standard rounded binary fashion.

The trio comes next, characterized initially by a new sonority: the two flutes in octaves presenting a melody that is itself characterized by numerous octaves leaps. After a soft consequent phrase that tonicizes C major (IV), the final phrase returns politely to the home tonic.

The second section of the trio also features a number of large melodic leaps, but this time played out against more lyrical scalewise passages in the other flute. Not surprisingly, the section concludes with a return to the original trio melody and the "da capo" form kicks in, sending us back to the minuet all over again.

Does this short work for two flutes transcend the limits of its genre? It might be overly generous to imply that it did. On the other hand, it is a fine, workman-like composition that would provide a pair of late eighteenth-century flute players exactly what they were looking for, i.e., a charming, elegant little piece featuring a group of pleasant tunes enlivened by touches of colorful chromaticism with just enough independence between the parts to keep things interesting.

Piano Trio in E-flat Major, WoO 38

Before taking a look at this rather ambitious early work, we'll first get a glimpse of Beethoven's earliest attempt at writing for piano trio, his 1784 Allegretto for Piano Trio, also in E-flat, Hess 48. This short and guileless movement is notable for the rhythmic persistence of its simple, mostly stepwise theme, and its use of distinctive dotted rhythms in the bass. The movement is in some ways remarkably economical. The dotted rhythms introduced in the early measures are heard again and again, not only in connection with the primary theme but in transitional contexts as well. The piano tends to dominate with violin and cello only occasionally venturing out with independent thematic material.

But while this doesn't seem to be a particularly sophisticated essay in the form (one could hardly expect it to be), everything does seem very much under control. The youthful Beethoven is carefully testing the possibilities and limitations inherent in combining the more percussive piano with the lyrical properties of violin and cello. The result is a modest success because the composer seems to be very much the master of his very limited materials and never ventures further than the limitations of his technique will allow.

Movement I

Allegro Moderato, E-flat major, 2/4

Not surprisingly, the next piano trio, WoO38, composed some six years later, constitutes a major step forward from his first, fledging efforts.

The first theme begins with a perky little tune in the piano that is very economically constructed, its initial four-note motive (introduced by the ascending leap of a fourth) immediately extending itself sequentially.

Ex. 7

The phrase that follows, characterized by a clearly marked plagal progression (IV-I), is heard three times, and the final phrase of the ten-bar theme repeats it up a fifth.

Following this is a scalewise passage doubled in thirds in the piano that sounds initially as if it were the beginning of a transitional passage. In fact it just leads to a dramatic pause on a dominant seventh chord and the first subject appears to start all over again. But, as we've seen before in similar circumstances, what develops is not just a simple repetition of the melody. It certainly begins that way, with the only significant difference being that the violin and cello take on more important melodic roles for the first time. But the passage eventually morphs into the "real" modulatory transition, which easily transports us to the key of the dominant as the piano contributes some energetic little accompanying motives that will take on a more important role later.

When the second theme/subject arrives in the key of B-flat, it is not particularly remarkable, consisting of a four-measure phrase that arpeggiates up the tonic chord, dabbles a little within the dominant chord, and then retreats back down both chords, all over a pedal on B-flat. The cello then takes its turn with the violin's previous phrase while the piano provides a new, attention-grabbing motive—a lower-neighbor figure replete with grace notes— that is sequenced around as the chords change beneath it. The harmonic activity here is perhaps even less complex than for the first subject: an alternation of tonic and dominant with a B-flat asserted in the bass for thirteen straight bars. But eventually there is some relief from all of these B-flats, as the closing theme is introduced after some uninspired passagework in the piano.

The closing theme, shared by violin and cello, has a familiar ring to it. It's based on the repetition of a short, rhythmically distinctive motive that is somewhat akin to (but not identical with) a combination of the first and second motives from the first theme. But its most compelling feature is its modal ambiguity; it's heard first in B-flat major and then in B-flat minor, flipping back and forth between the two at will, almost to the end of the exposition.

The development section begins in a cloud of tonal ambiguity. It immediately asserts a D diminished chord that would seem to have nothing to do with the B-flat major key in which the exposition ended. The chord is sustained in various ways for several measures, serving to build tension and establish a mood of anticipation. Meanwhile, the violin and (later) cello begin to develop the initial four-note motive that began the movement. In time, the A-flat found in the diminished chord is reinterpreted as the flat seventh of a B-flat dominant seventh chord. But this turns out to be a false lead and the key finally stabilizes on C minor.

While the piano continues to spin out chordal arpeggios, the violin and cello finally (in measure 13 of the development) introduce a melodic idea that at first appears to be a new motive, but which turns out to be based partially on the second motive introduced in the first theme, and partially on a motive heard in the closing section. At this point we appear to be in the key of C minor, but C major follows almost immediately, the rapid fire changes in mode also reminiscent of the closing section.

After just five bars the motive disappears, and we are left with a series of sixteenth-note arpeggios that don't show much activity harmonically and become a bit tedious, despite the crescendo from piano to fortissimo that underlies them. But eventually we get some movement toward the key of A-flat major while violin and cello bring back the initial motive of the first theme (the sequencing sixteenth-note motive) for further development. Once securely anchored in A-flat, the piano picks up the same motive and sequences it.

Cello and violin then begin to offer descending arpeggio patterns that are reminiscent of the initial measures of the second theme and the key starts to move toward E-flat. Upon arrival in the new key, the texture thins out considerably and the initial motive of the first subject returns with a vengeance, sequencing itself furiously through several measures. Violin and cello contributions are soon much reduced and the piano is left alone to bring the development to a conclusion, which it does at perhaps too great a length. The final bars of the development section quote from the scale passages doubled in thirds from the linking passage following the first subject and, just as before, the passage leads to a dramatic fermata on a dominant seventh chord that stands ready to take us back to the original tonic of E-flat and launch the recapitulation.

The recapitulation of the first theme is slightly varied, the violin engaging in decorative sixteenth notes (modeled after similar motives first heard in the modulatory transition of the exposition) against the primary melodic activity in the cello. We have seen previously that Beethoven is not hesitant to take some liberties (usually fairly minor ones at this point) in the form of the recapitulation and he does so again here. Instead of bringing back the second theme in the original tonic of E-flat, we get instead the "equivalent" of that theme, with triadic arpeggios replaced by scale lines, heard initially in the key of B-flat major. This is not the brief digression one might expect; Beethoven moves next to G minor and stays there for quite a while, pounding it into our consciousness with repeated G's in the piano's left hand for some nine measures.

When we finally break free from G minor, we move quickly through B-flat, D minor and eventually F major. Finally, the closing section theme makes an appearance in F minor. In its original incarnation, the closing theme was only two bars long, but Beethoven is obviously quite fond of it and it becomes the featured player in the recapitulation.

The key of F minor is soon interpreted as the supertonic (the ii chord) in the key of E-flat major and a dominant seventh finally takes us securely back to original tonic. We've noted rapid fire modulations in the recapitulation section before, especially in the transition to the second subject or in the coda. Even though the "letter" of sonata form dictates that all of the original themes from the exposition should now be stated in the tonic key in the recapitulation, composers by the end of the eighteenth century were likely to at least flirt with other tonal centers to relieve the monotony caused by too much of the original tonic key. Beethoven's "flirtations" seem fairly serious here, and it seems clear that—even at this early point— he is increasingly committed to use modulation as an expressive device, not just an "architectural" marker.

Movement II—Scherzo

Allegro ma non troppo, E-flat Major, 3/4

Beethoven replaces the traditional slow movement in a three-movement form with a moderately placed Scherzo. It's a clever little movement that makes its effect by contrasting mostly repeated-note melodies with more sweeping, lyrical phrases. (See Ex. 8-A.)

The first eight measures show the repeated note motive (with minimal melodic activity in the bass) that Beethoven frequently returns to throughout the Scherzo. This is relieved effectively by more florid scalewise passages that echo back and forth between the piano and the strings until the first section comes to a close in B-flat major.

Ex. 8-A

The second section begins with the familiar repeated-note motive that now asserts a dominant seventh on B-flat on the way back to the home tonic. Upon arriving there, graceful undulating passages in the violin substitute for the initial repeated-note motive, but it is not absent for long, and neither is the temporary plunge into C minor heard in the first eight bars of the movement. But the undulating lyrical passages—expressively seasoned with chromatic nonharmonic tones—return to lighten the texture. And even though the almost non-stop reassertion of the dominant seventh on B-flat gets a bit wearisome after a while, the prolonged dominant has served its purpose, and we are more than ready to return to tonic and the opening theme of the movement. The section ends with lyrical scale passages from piano and violin that are often in contrary motion and allow for some subtle dissonances here and there, but leave no doubt about the final cadence.

The trio (unmarked) is quite a lovely little affair, providing an excellent example of the kind of melody that sounds much more interesting than it looks.

Ex. 8-B

It's beautifully symmetrical of course and, after the dominance of the repeated note melody that began the movement, the ear welcomes any hint of lyrical contrast.

The melody in the second half of the trio now passes to the violin and cello and, as in the first half of the section, there is not a great deal to it, but it is nonetheless effective. The cello begins with a broadly lyrical phrase outlining the tonic and dominant seventh triads in B-flat major (acting, for the moment, as tonic) and the violin follows suit, while the piano provides smooth, gliding eighth-note runs based partially on the melody.

Before long the piano once again seizes the melodic reins and, in the home tonic of E-flat and doubled in upper octaves, restates the original trio theme to great effect. Following the da capo, the Scherzo section is repeated.

While Beethoven's Scherzo movement could have provided a little more key contrast with the first movement of the piece, it does provide a nice contrast in mood and has some lovely, lilting melodies. Not all of Beethoven's slow movements to this point have been completely successful, and the substitution of a Scherzo movement in this case turns out to have been a masterstroke.

Movement III—Rondo

Allegretto, E-flat major, 6/8

This does not at first appear to be the sort of fast-paced, almost frantic movement that is often thought of as "rondo-like." In fact, depending on how the performer interprets the tempo marking of Allegretto, this movement can have an almost sedate tone, at least at the beginning. And it is not a conventional rondo in other respects as we shall see.

The refrain theme is a simple enough affair, outlining in its initial phrase the tonic triad before descending gently to the third of the chord. The second phrase is perhaps a bit more distinctive, moving up a half step to its highpoint before falling a fifth, a shape that is immediately echoed. Harmonically, none of this ventures very far from tonic. Descending leaps of a fifth dominate the next phrase as well, the pauses filled in by short responding motives from violin and cello. (See Ex. 9.)

The motive in measure 7, which begins by floating up the B-flat triad and effectively tonicizes the dominant, is later to take on a life of its own.

The next period begins with a new motive consisting of a plunging sixteenth-note scale line that rather nosily punctuates two strong V-I cadences in the (temporary) new key of B-flat. But after this outburst, the opening phrase recurs, bringing with it a return to the original tonic.

Ex. 9

At that point the melody is handed over to the violin and cello, who play a lovely duet characterized by gently pungent dissonances. What follows is roughly comparable to the first four bars of the second period, and the last phrase of the second period concludes as before.

At that point the piano delivers a sixteenth-note run in E-flat to provide a link to what might be expected to be (given that Beethoven labels the movement as a "rondo") the first contrasting episode ("B"), or at least a transition to that episode. But in fact the first phrase of the refrain melody reappears quietly, still in E-flat major. It is interrupted somewhat raucously by an ascending sixteenth note C melodic minor scale, doubled in octaves in the piano, which zooms up an octave and half.

Following this somewhat rude interruption, something very akin to the opening refrain motive occurs, but now carrying on in the key of C minor. And so we proceed for a while: rapid scale lines alternating and combining with motivic fragments from the refrain theme, all in a state of tonal flux. We move first toward B-flat major and eventually toward G minor. So in effect we have an episode (if it is in fact an episode) that acts somewhat like a mini-development section.

After several measures of this, we head toward C major and a new three-note staccato motive that moves up the scale in a 3-4-5 pattern along with some rapid fluctuations in dynamics. The motive flips back and forth between C major and C minor and between G major and G minor for a few measures, all the time sounding very much like a transitional passage and ending up on the dominant seventh in C minor. (Beethoven had used this device—a rapid alternation between major and minor—in the first movement of the trio as well.) And perhaps it is a transition because, after a dramatic pause, we hear a totally new idea: a pianissimo whirling up and down of arpeggiated piano chords. The passage begins firmly grounded in C minor but, thanks to a clever interpretation of a diminished seventh chord (a D-F-Ab chord, which would be the diminished supertonic or diminished ii in C minor), we move quickly back to E-flat major.

What follows in E-flat is a chromatically inflected, free variation of the refrain melody which, after twelve measures, starts up again. Eventually the second half of the refrain theme makes an appearance in the cello (also somewhat varied) against a hyperactive and rather chromatic countermelody in the violin. But after a while the theme is represented more by its motivic components than by intact phrases and we once again get more of a sense of a development section than a conventional variation.

As the movement proceeds, we see a return of the sixteenth-note arpeggios labeled (tentatively) above as the first episode ("B"), although once again the passage seems more like a transition to another varied restatement of the rondo refrain than a bona-fide episode. In fact much of the second half of the movement duplicates the first half, down to the recurrence of the three-note staccato motive referred to earlier.

What does not happen as the movement winds down is just as significant. We never get a clear-cut restatement of the refrain theme, and the coda, which somewhat magically appears in A-flat major, makes no real reference to the refrain theme as it spins out to its conclusion.

So is this movement a "real" rondo, as Beethoven's label would seem to suggest? It is certainly not in the traditional form of a rondo. For now, we'll just describe the form as an experimental hybrid between a conventional rondo and a free theme and variations movement. Beethoven is not the first composer to play fast and loose with traditional rondo form, of course. Still, there is no question that he was taking a chance here by constructing a movement that might baffle some of his listeners.

And yet one can only admire Beethoven for his willingness to experiment. As we've seen in our examination of other early chamber works, Beethoven was quite capable of writing a perfectly respectable rondo, following most (if not quite all) of the eighteenth-century conventions to a tee. In this case, he didn't seem to be particularly interested in doing so. Of course the fact that Beethoven used the term "Rondo" at the beginning of this movement shouldn't be over-interpreted; "rondo" was at least as much a style indicator as it was a description of form in this period. Apparently Beethoven believed that this movement was in the "spirit" of a rondo; the fact that it didn't particularly resemble a conventional rondo formally was not of great concern to him.

What about the trio as a whole? The first two movements are mostly quite effective. Beethoven's themes are attractive and he is more economical in his use of motives than in the earlier works we've looked at. As a result, the two earlier movements come across as well integrated and perfectly coherent. Neither of the first two movements is perfect of course; the development section in the first seems a bit tedious at times (the motivic integration not withstanding) and the harmonic repetitions sometimes seem a little tiresome.

But, on the whole, this trio is a fine work, probably the most successful of those completed in Bonn.

Beethoven as Pianist and Improviser

While Beethoven was clearly maturing as a composer, he was increasing in sophistication and originality as a pianist at an even faster rate. While the number of engagements as a pianist in which the young Beethoven received an agreed-upon formal fee were limited (his youthful appearance in 1778 and a second appearance as the soloist with an orchestra in Holland at the court of Prince Willem V of Orang-Nassau may be the only ones), Beethoven was increasingly active as a pianist in more informal settings. His mother reported that her son "played a great deal in great houses, astonished people by his skill, and received valuable presents."

Beethoven would sometimes play at the court for the Elector and his guests and in the salons of the higher nobility. In the summer, when the court had largely emptied out, the young pianist would often venture out into the surrounding towns, make appearances in the wealthier homes there as well. At times the family lodgings would be turned into a small recital hall for well-attended performances. Solomon describes the typical audience for such occasions as "a broad cross-section of Bonn's music lovers, theatre and university people, intellectuals, the bureaucracy, and nobility, as well as strangers attracted by word of the young pianist's phenomenal gifts."

Gerhard von Bruening, referring to his home in Bonn as a gathering place for artists of all kinds, described Beethoven as one of the leading musicians of his day: "But even at that time the center of animated interest was young Beethoven, whose improvisations roamed over the piano of the house half the night through."

Carl Junker, a composer and writer on music, described Beethoven on his trip to Mergentheim (along with other musicians from the Elector's court) in the following terms:

I heard him extemporize in private; yes, I was even invited to propose a theme for him to vary. The greatness of this amiable, light-hearted man, as a virtuoso, may in my opinion be safely estimated from his almost inexhaustible wealth of ideas, the altogether characteristic style of his expression in his playing, and the great execution; but Bethofen, in addition to the execution, has greater clearness and weight of idea, and more expression—in short, he is more for the heart...

There is no question that, by the end of his stay in Bonn, the young Beethoven had fully succeeded in capturing the admiration of most of the musicians and music lovers he encountered, through his playing and his compositions. But there were more worlds for him to conquer, beginning with Vienna.

A note on sources:

Although there are a number of good sources that discuss Beethoven's string quartets at length, there are far fewer that deal in any significant way with earlier chamber music and particularly the chamber music with winds. One of the best of these is Angus Watson's Beethoven's Chamber Music in Context (The Boydell Press, 2010).

Chapter 4

Beethoven in Vienna

What sort of impression did Beethoven make in his newly adopted city? Vienna was, of course, quite a bit more cosmopolitan and sophisticated than Bonn, and the young composer's social graces had been somewhat suspect even there. Among other things, Beethoven's personal appearance was thought to be less than adequate. Frau von Bernhard described Beethoven as

...short and insignificant, with an ugly red face full of pockmarks, His hair was very dark and hung fairly tousled about his face. His attire was very ordinary and not remotely of the choiceness that was customary in those days and particularly in our circles.

In later years, Beethoven's friend, Gerhard von Breuning, would protest that in fact Ludwig's face was merely "spotted here and there with brown smallpox depressions." Furthermore, Gerhard urged that the true beauty lay deeper: "As soon as his face became animated in friendship, it took on all the charm of childlike innocence; when he smiled, one believed not only in him, but in mankind; so heartfelt and sincere was he in words, in movements and in looks."

But according to von Bernhard, Beethoven's uncouthness extended to his speech: "...he spoke in a pronounced dialect and had a rather common way of expressing himself, indeed, his entire deportment showed no signs of exterior polish; on the contrary, he was unmannerly in demeanor and behavior."

Opinions on Beethoven held by Viennese aristocrats were often more mixed. Countess Giulietta Guicciardi, who had been a student of Beethoven (an experience no young lady was likely to forget because of his exacting standards), reported that Beethoven, in general, "went shabbily dressed." And while she also stated that he was "very homely," she does describe him as "noble, delicately fibred" and "well educated."

But of course Viennese society—at least musical society—was rather in flux at the time when Beethoven decided to make his career there. The French Revolution had the ruling classes everywhere on edge. As Lockwood notes, the horrors in France "signaled to the German and Austrian princes that their comfortable world was now under a death sentence." Some private orchestras in Vienna had recently been disbanded as some aristocrats eyed their future warily. But the need for music as one of the main lubricants for Viennese social life remained high and popular pianists and chamber ensembles were still in demand.

And where did Beethoven stand, politically speaking, in all of this turmoil? At times he seemed to make light of the increasing evidence of political suppression going on right under his nose. But in reality, his attitude was complex and somewhat contradictory. To be sure, the young Beethoven had republican sympathies and, as his setting of Schiller's Ode in his Ninth Symphony some years later showed, he was not shy about expressing them. On the other hand, Beethoven was not one to show great patience in his dealings with the common man. Completely self-aware of his own artistic nature and extraordinary abilities, he generally considered himself to be elevated far above the average.

As a number of authors have suggested, Beethoven was a believer in the nobility of spirit and the aristocracy of ability. Although he occasionally expressed disdain for his aristocratic masters, this seemed to be directed primarily at those whom he felt treated him more like an employee than a great artist, or refused to recognize that Beethoven was, in his way, very much their equal.

And of course Beethoven found it necessary, or at least useful, to defer to his aristocratic patrons from time to time. Writing some years later to the Archduke Rudolph in regard to a cantata first performed in Vienna in November, 1814, Beethoven states:

I really feel that I can never deserve your goodness towards me. I beg to offer my most respectable thanks for Y.R.H's [Your Royal Highness'] gracious intervention in my affairs at Prague. I will punctually attend to the score of the Cantata. I trust Y.R.H. will forgive my not having yet been to see you....I have now some fresh work on hand, and there is a new opera to be begun, the subject of which I am about to decide on. Moreover, I am again far from well, but a few days hence and I will wait on Y.R.H. If I could be of any service to Y.R.H., the most eager and anxious wish of my life would be fulfilled.

Of course the Archduke was a close friend to Beethoven who had rendered considerable service as well as financial support (and who was rewarded with various dedications, including some of his most famous piano sonatas and his Missa Solemnis), but Beethoven does appear almost obsequious here. Even taking into account the formality of language adopted in written communications of the day, it seems that Beethoven is going out of his way to ingratiate himself.

A few years later (1819), in another letter to Archduke Rudolph, Beethoven writes, "The gratitude I feel for the surprise and honor you have done me, I dare not venture to express either verbally or in writing, for I am too far beneath you, even if I could or wished ever so ardently to return like for like."

So Beethoven was willing to—at least temporarily—assume the language of a servant or petitioner. But it is unlikely that he saw himself as the Archduke's inferior, at least not in the ways that mattered most to him.

Was Beethoven one of those artists who would have welcomed the revolution, the dawning of "freedom, equality and brotherhood" with earnest enthusiasm? To a degree, he did; his setting of Schiller's problematic Ode in the Ninth Symphony was hardly an act of hypocrisy.

But Beethoven was a musician who produced music of great nobility and complexity, and he knew who his audience was—or at least what segment of the population produced the most fertile ground in which his worshippers might take root. Beethoven needed the aristocracy and he was fully aware of it. Over time in the nineteenth century, the audience for classical music would increasingly enroll prosperous members of the middle class and Beethoven surely applauded that trend. But at this point in his career, he was pleased to have the support from any wealthy aristocrat who offered it.

First Compositions in Vienna

Beethoven was anxious to make an immediate impression on Viennese musical society as a pianist and improviser and he did so. Largely because his reputation as a performer preceded him, he had a readymade audience among the nobility, many of whom welcomed him immediately with open arms.

As a composer, Beethoven was more cautious in making his way. Having just begun his lessons with the great Haydn and initially hesitant to undertake any ambitious projects without his teacher's blessings, he spent most of his time finishing projects begun in Bonn and other smaller works.

We'll begin by looking at his Octet for two Oboes, two Clarinets, two Bassoons, and two Horns in E-flat, completed in 1793.

Octet for Two Oboes, Two Clarinets, Two Bassoons, and Two Horns in E-flat Major, Op. 103

Although Beethoven never had the work published in its original form in his lifetime, this is nonetheless a clever and attractive work of four movements.

Movement I

Allegro, E-flat major, Alla breve

The movement begins with multiple repetitions of a rhythmically charged motive that initially revolves around the tonic. For this sort of rather repetitive melodic statement, most of the interest concerns the different ways in which the underlying chords relate to the repeated motive. In this case the underlying harmonies are fairly conservative, but do contain a couple of secondary dominant chords (I—V7/IV—vii dim/ii—ii) within the first four bars.

Ex. 10-A

Four measures later, the second half of the first period is presented, a lyrical phrase that flows from F down to Bb (echoed in the second bassoon).

Ex. 10-B

Following this is a new idea, a languid melody over a notably faster harmonic rhythm based largely on the circle of fifths. After this the first motive (Ex. 10-A) is quoted again three times and the hard-driving theme from the modulatory transition section is introduced fortissimo:

Ex. 10-C

After a few brief injections by the initial motive of the first subject, we are introduced to the second subject. It's not, as we would expect, in the dominant key of B-flat; rather, it's in G minor, the relative minor of B-flat. The theme is shared by the second and the first clarinet and features a prominent leap of a fourth.

Ex. 10-D

But just four bars later, the melody is presented in the key of B-flat (although hints of G minor never disappear completely). Following this, a new motive is introduced in the first bassoon—a short, catchy one that dominates the next eight measures as the key is secured.

Ex. 10-E

But there are a few more harmonic games to be played; Beethoven interrupts the action with an accented whole-note chord on F minor, the minor subdominant chord in the key of C minor, followed by a dominant in that key. But he has no intention of actually moving to C minor, at least not at that point. Instead, he introduces the closing subject in the first clarinet, a relatively slow moving melodic idea that resembles the modulatory transition theme in beginning with a descending arpeggiation of a dominant seventh chord on B-flat.

Ex. 10-F

Beethoven then doubles back and repeats the whole-note chord on F minor, and a variation of the closing theme is brought back all over again. This is followed by a series of quotations of the leading motive from the first subject and the exposition comes to an end.

Not surprisingly, the motive that helped to close the exposition opens the development section. It is bandied about in C minor for quite a while, until we hear a "not quite new" motive derived freely from part two of the second subject. At that point Beethoven becomes quite enamored with a descending three-note motive that he uses to take us through various keys, none of which are very far from the original tonic. After a while the action slows down substantially (somewhat unusual for a development section that has developed a head of steam), and an aura of melancholy dominates, punctuated by a few melodramatic gestures. This is so out of character with the melodic and harmonic material heard to this point that it's almost necessary to think of it as a tongue-in-cheek gesture. Eventually, the momentum is renewed, and we slip back into the home key of E-flat and the recapitulation begins.

But in the recapitulation, the first subject (the opening motive of which has so dominated the movement) is cut short after just four bars. The second subject is skipped over entirely and Beethoven heads directly for the closing section. But we're not done with that rhythmically-distinct opening motive; it returns, along with various other motives from the exposition. But no themes are quoted in full, as the textbook definition of the sonata form would suggest (and which is almost never really the case), but in bits and pieces, just as one might expect in the typical development section.

The coda, not surprisingly, brings back some of the development section motives while feinting toward a modulation here and there. But things never get very far from the key of E-flat for any length of time and, after a final recurrence or two of the opening motive, we get a quiet conclusion after a series of sforzando chords.

Movement II

Andante, B-flat major, 6/8

The central melodic idea of the second movement is simple, but makes an effective use of nonharmonic tones. It begins with a leap of a tritone (an augmented fourth from B-flat to E natural) and then works its way down the scale with a gently syncopated motive.

Ex. 11

The motive of the first two measures is then sequenced a step higher before it yields to a more florid passage of sixteenth notes. The eight-bar statement is then repeated, the melody passing to the first bassoon. But, as usual, the second presentation of the theme is varied (although the initial two measure motive still figures prominently) and eventually passes into G minor in freely embellished form.

A modulation to the dominant (F major) is finally achieved and a second theme is introduced. This is a fragmented affair, a grouping of similar single-measure phrases from oboe I with interjections from the clarinets and bassoon. This second theme eventually morphs into long, undulating phrases of sixteenth notes from the first clarinet and first bassoon (something like a closing section in a sonata form) before it finally cadences in F. At that point there is a brief (only about six bars) transitional section taking the place of where a development section would normally be, if this were a full-fledged sonata form movement.

The first theme returns in the original tonic key of B-flat, first in the clarinet and then the bassoon. When the second subject returns, it is in the key of E-flat rather than the more predictable tonic, and the key eventually goes through C minor before arriving back at B-flat to begin a coda featuring the return of the first theme. The coda does a little tonal wandering of its own and there are some last minute, fleeting reminiscences of the first theme as the movement fades to silence.

Movement III—Menuetto

E-flat major, 3/4

The movement starts with a dramatic, staccato octave drop starting on Bb in oboe I, followed quickly by more sustained melodic activity (hinting at E-flat minor) in the clarinets. The pace at which this happens and the nature of the melodic activity suggests a very quick tempo and, in fact, the whole movement seems more like a mature Beethoven scherzo than an orthodox minuet.

After six bars, the initial motive (the octave drop) repeats in the second horn, echoed by the first bassoon, and before you know it, the first (repeated) section ends on dominant.

The second section of the minuet starts with the same octave drop but in the relative minor key (C minor). But the main melodic activity is dominated by a scale passage, first heard in the first bassoon, which heads upward for an octave and a half. The oboe eventually takes over the staccato scale lines, answered by some lusty horn call motives, and the line soon begins to undulate. New stepwise motives are developed and the first half of the second section of the Menuetto cadences on B-flat.

The second half starts with the familiar falling octave. But most of what comes next unfolds in fairly sustained melodic activity, highlighting the clarinets once again. But the leaping octaves are never far from consciousness, and the sweeping ascending scale heard in the first section of the Menuetto is also in evidence as we drive to a cadence on the original tonic of E-flat.

The Trio pares down the texture considerably (as trio sections often do) and introduces a new sort of theme based on a swirling motion that starts once again on the third of the E-flat triad. But this brief theme, answered handily by horn fifths, provides the only real melodic interest in the Trio. The second section opens with the same swirling motive, but the flow is interrupted almost immediately by a surprising diminished seventh chord that shatters the idyllic mood. But there's really no long term disruption and, as the swirling motive returns, the section comes to a quiet close on tonic and the Menuetto is repeated.

Movement IV—Finale

Presto, E-flat major, Alla breve

The high spirited rondo refrain theme ("A") jumps joyfully around the E-flat major triad in almost bugle call fashion.

Ex. 12-A

The transition moves quickly to C minor and then to B-flat, all the time exploiting the leaping triadic motive. When the first episode arrives ("B"), it too is based on triadic leaps, spiced by off-beat sforzandi, but a new motive arrives in the second oboe that is to play a central role in the course of the movement. This second oboe motive, simple as it is, is quite distinctive because of its articulation pattern and easily catches the listener's attention.

Ex. 12-B

In the second part of the episode, the same motive dominates the action until the start of the retransition to the refrain theme begins. This retransition, which predictably moves back to the home key of E-flat, is notable for some clever duets between clarinet and bassoon that provide a mildly syncopated effect due to their slurs over the bar.

Just before the refrain recurs, it is anticipated cleverly by the "bugle call" or fanfare motive sounded first in the horn, a device that Beethoven uses regularly several times throughout the piece but always to good effect. The transition to the next episode ("C") is made using some familiar motives: the second oboe motive shown above and the syncopated duet theme, now heard in the bassoons. The transition ends in C minor and the new melodic idea for the C episode is introduced after a languid introduction in the first clarinet.

Ex. 12-C

The episode starts in C minor but moves quickly to B-flat minor. The melody—primarily moving by step but with one telling descending leap of a sixth—contrasts powerfully with the more kinetic refrain and first episode themes. It is also quite a bit more tonally active than the other sections of the piece, spending a lot of its time alternating between B-flat minor and A-flat. This, and its tendency to develop separate motives within its own melody (including some lovely little horn duets), suggest that this section takes on something of the role of a development section within the movement. This would make the form of the finale more of a sonata rondo than a "straight" rondo, but the situation isn't so simple. In many sonata rondos, previous themes (e.g., from the refrain melody) are developed in the "C" episode. That's not the case here, so the situation, formally speaking, is a little ambiguous.

But regardless of this formal ambiguity, the movement is quite successful and follows its own logical development, albeit not without a few quirks here and there. One of those quirks (and one of the most interesting of the whole piece) comes at the end of the "C" episode; it ends on an inverted dominant on C major, suggesting that the next section—the return of the refrain—will start in F. And it does—sort of—even though it's not supposed to. Standard rondo form suggests that the refrain melody always comes back in the original tonic key of E-flat. At first glance, it appears that the "rule" is about to be broken. But when the refrain enters in F major (the melody in the first oboe), it almost immediately becomes clear that it's a feint; it's cut off and the first bassoon "apologizes" for its transgression with a winsome little chromatic line. Then the clarinet starts up with the refrain theme, but it's also in the "wrong" key, this time in A-flat. This time the winsome chromatic line is extended even longer and bolstered by a crescendo. And finally, after two false starts, we come back to the original tonic of E-flat and the first clarinet presents the refrain theme for "real."

After the refrain plays itself out for the third time, we proceed (after a transition that strongly resembles the first one) to episode "B'", i.e., a varied version of the first episode that comes back in tonic, exactly where it's supposed to be.

We now expect to encounter the last recurrence of the refrain melody to round off the A-B-A-C-B'-A form. But we don't get a last refrain. After a sforzando fermata, we get instead a section that strongly resembles an abbreviated version of episode "C", but which in fact functions as a coda. However, this somewhat unexpected turn of events comes to a close soon enough and we return to the key of E-flat major, with the horns giving us a last (but ferocious) reminiscence of the triadic "bugle call" motives as the movement comes to quick close.

A couple of years after composing this octet, Beethoven saw fit to revise it substantially into a string quintet, which was subsequently published as Op. 4 in 1796. Since the two works are so closely related, we'll jump "out of order" and take a brief look at the string quintet.

String Quintet in E-flat Major, Op. 4

This work is identified as an "arrangement" of the octet in some sources while others more properly refer to it as a "recomposition." Watson suggests that Beethoven may have been inspired to rework the piece by Mozart's rescoring of his Wind Serenade in C minor, K. 388, for string quintet. Perhaps Beethoven felt that his work was substantial enough that it deserved the more "serious" medium of an all-string ensemble in order to best reveal its potential. While it's generally assumed that the string quintet version (which, after all, was put together a couple of years later in a period when Beethoven was developing rapidly as a composer) is superior, a comparison of the two reveals that there is something to be said in favor of both the original and the make-over.

Movement I

Allegro con brio, E-flat major, Common time (4/4)

Beethoven sets the tempo as Allegro con brio in common time rather than the Allegro in Alla breve meter found in the original. It's unlikely that the difference will be noticeable in performance, although some might argue that a very fast four beats in a measure will be accented differently than the two beats in a measure generally felt in Alla breve.

There are more important differences to take note of almost from the beginning. The first theme in the quintet version is identical to the original version, but the accompaniment is more solid and rhythmically predictable—less coy and understated than in the original. Of course the composer is now working with five instruments rather than eight, but the differences in sonority will not necessarily be too substantial since the five string instruments (two violins two violas and a cello) can generate some powerful sounds, especially since Beethoven employs multiple stops liberally. The differences in the color palette are more significant. Beethoven simply had more colors and coloristic combinations at his disposal in the original score. The quintet may boast of the greater "purity" and "sheen" of all-string sonorities, but in terms of sheer variety of sound, the octet clearly has the advantage.

Some of the changes between the two versions are fairly insignificant. In the quintet, the modulatory transition theme adds grace notes and strategic trills and keeps both the rhythmic momentum and intensity level consistently higher by the inclusion of more dramatic crescendo and decrescendo passages. Certain harmonic details have also been changed, e.g., a borrowed (minor) subdominant chord is transformed into an augmented sixth chord by a chromatic passing tone.

Somewhat more important changes take place in the development section in the quintet, which features more firm statements of the opening motives by all five instruments in unison and octaves. The development section for the octet was a little sparser and more playful. In the quintet it seems busier and more purposeful. The development in the quintet is also longer and more varied tonally.

But perhaps the most significant difference, according to L. Poundie Bustein, lies in the different ways in which the retransition at the end of the development section approaches the recapitulation of the first theme. Whereas the retransition in the octet seems "detached" from the rest of the development section, more of an "appendix" than an "integrated part of the section" (an approach that Bustein characterizes as old-fashioned), the transition to the recapitulation in the quintet seems more organically connected and leads "more emphatically" to the return of the original theme.

Movement II

Andante, B-flat major, 6/8

The thematic material in both versions is largely identical, although the modulatory transitions between the first and second theme are different. More coloristic variety is gained in the octet by frequently dividing the thematic material up into duets featuring clarinets and bassoons, whereas in the quintet all five instruments share in presenting the material.

While there are other differences in the exposition section as well, Bustein again focuses on the differences in the development section. As he points out, the development section in the quintet is "entirely new," replacing what was in the octet a short bridge or transitional section. And, as Bustein suggests, this new development section has some remarkable features, not the least of which is the transformation of two notes within an A minor chord (temporarily acting as tonic, a key very remote from the original tonic) into two notes of a V chord in B-flat (a device which, Bustein points out, occurs in other early Beethoven works as well).

Movement III

Allegretto, E-flat major, 3/4

There are some major differences between the two versions in the third movement. One would be Beethoven's addition in the quintet of a clever new trio that not only expands the movement but adds substantially to its tonal scope.

But there are some minor changes that are less clearly in favor of the quintet. The hints of E-flat minor are missing from the opening measures of the Menuetto theme, replaced by a somewhat blander harmonic landscape. But most of the movement proceeds along similar lines in the quintet until we get to the new trio section. Trio II begins in E-flat major with a chromatically inflected solo line that acts as a vague premonition of the C episode of the finale. The theme is imitated after four bars by the second violin and, four bars later by the cello. The first viola line doesn't engage in imitation, but sometimes acts in parallel motion with the violins. The second viola is tacet throughout the Trio.

The first part of Trio II cadences in E-flat, but the second, although it again starts with a solo chromatic line in the first violin, goes much farther afield tonally, moving quickly to E (or F-flat) major. Twenty-three bars later, the note D# (heard initially as the leading tone in E major) is enharmonically reinterpreted as Eb and the chromatic theme that began Trio II is restated.

Here again, Bustein provides some valuable insights. He points out that it's not just the new Trio II that provides new harmonic subtleties, but Trio I as well, rewritten to include a much more subtle return to the opening Trio I theme (the typical rounded binary return to A') that actually arrives during the prolongation of the dominant chord instead of waiting for the resolution to tonic.

Movement IV Finale

Presto, E-flat major, 2/4

The string quintet also offers some significant changes from the original octet version in the Finale, one of the most notable of which involves the replacing of the original first episode ("B") with a new one that is more concentrated and provides more rhythmic continuity with the original refrain theme.

There are some other differences in the two versions as well; the "C" section of the quintet (which takes on some of the functions of a development section) is more concentrated in its motivic development. Also, a final refrain, not heard in the original octet version, is added. Furthermore, the coda delivers one last clear glimpse of the original refrain theme before it takes off on its drive to the conclusion of the movement. But again, Bustein's comments about Beethoven's new approaches to the retransition sections (this time referring to the retransitions back to the rondo refrain after each episode) are salient. The clever "slight of hand" that Beethoven practiced in the original retransition from the "C" episode back to the refrain melody (where the refrain is brought back in two different "false" keys before finally returning in the "real" one) is missing in the quintet version, replaced by a much clearer prolongation of the dominant chord which makes the final return to tonic more of a "triumphant event."

Because of these points (and others that are too complex to be summarized here), Bustein clearly believes that Beethoven's quintet, Op. 4, represents a more mature work and a significant improvement over his octet, Op. 103. One might think of the octet, he suggests, as "a kind of draft for the Op. 4 quintet." And Bustein is by no means alone in his views about the relative merits of the two works. Lockwood points out that, compared to the octet, the quintet is "harmonically more enlarged" and at the same time "tightened and made more cogent in its flow of ideas and in the contrapuntal animation of the subordinate parts."

These points are undeniably valid. The quintet seems in many ways to be a more ambitious and weightier work than the octet. And yet there is an unmistakable charm about the octet, due in part to the fact that the melodies, rhythms and articulation patterns were conceived specifically with the oboes, clarinets, horns and bassoons in mind, and in part to its general playfulness of spirit. It's safe to say that a string quintet is quite capable of matching the "bulk" of a group of eight winds in terms of sheer sonority, but it is not as capable of matching their coloristic variety. Some themes and rhythms seem to have been so carefully tailored to the original instruments that they seem somehow lackluster when handed over to violins, violas and a cello. The "bugle call" (or "horn call") motives that pop up throughout the Finale are just one case in point. These figures have a distinctive quality when "ripped through" by the horns at a fast tempo; they are much more sedate sounding and much less colorful when played (relatively) effortlessly by the first violin. So while the quintet version of the octet may in some ways show some substantial improvements, there remains a freshness to the original version that will always give it a worthy place among Beethoven's compositions.

Twelve Variations in F Major for Violin and Piano on "Se Vuol ballare," WoO 40

It's easy enough to dismiss this piece as a "potboiler," thrown together for quick profit to exploit a tune so famous that its name alone was enough to generate sheet music sales. But Lockwood believes that Beethoven's choice of this particular melody from Mozart's enormously successful opera, The Marriage of Figaro, produced in 1786, may have been in part to express his agreement with the ideology inherent in the aria from which it comes. Figaro has just discovered that the count (a misbehaving aristocrat) is trying to outsmart him and thwart one of his clever plans. Although Figaro may be just the count's valet, he has no intention of letting him or anyone else outmaneuver him. As the text says, "The count may want to dance, but I'll be the one to play the tune."

While it's certainly possible that Beethoven had the "anti-aristocrat" symbolism of the original melody in mind when choosing this theme for variations, it's not necessarily the case. The melody's enormous popularity (second only to "Non piu andrai" from the same opera) and its suitability for variation would have been enough reason to proceed.

Beethoven himself mildly disparaged his little set of variations in a letter to Eleonore von Breuning, his close friend from his younger days in Bonn to whom he dedicated the work. He also refers to certain idiosyncratic pianist techniques for which he wants to claim ownership:

With this you will receive a dedication from me [the variations on "Se vuol ballare"]. My sole wish is that the work were greater and more worthy of you. I was applied to here to publish this little work, and I take advantage of my opportunity, my beloved Eleonore, to give you proof of my regard and friendship for yourself, and also a token of my enduring remembrance of your family. Pray then accept this trifle, and do not forget that it is offered by a devoted friend...

P.S. The variations are rather difficult to play, especially the shake in the Coda, but do not be alarmed at this, being so contrived that you only require to play the shake, and leave out the other notes, which also occur in the violin part. I never would have written it in this way, had I not occasionally observed that there was a certain individual in Vienna who, when I extemporized the previous evening, not infrequently wrote down next day many of the peculiarities of my music, adopting them as his own...Concluding, therefore, that some of these things would soon appear, I resolved to anticipate his. Another reason also was to puzzle some of the pianoforte teachers here, many of whom are my mortal foes; so I wished to revenge myself on them in this way, knowing that they would occasionally be asked to play the variations, when these gentlemen would not appear to much advantage.

The twelve variations are primarily in F major and all are in 3/4 meter. Beethoven begins by presenting the theme in the simplest of formats. The melody is in the piano with the violin doubling it in thirds or duplicating it in pizzicato. The first twelve-bar period ends on dominant (like the original) and the second eight-bar period ends on tonic (but is repeated, unlike the original). (See Ex.13-A.)

The first variation begins quite simply, the piano moving up and down the chords in eighth notes in predictable fashion and the violin adding rather perfunctory countermelodies in longer note values for the first seven bars. But of course all of this predictability is quite frequently just a setup for Beethoven as he prepares to introduce something unexpected. That proves to be the case here, although his "surprise" is a small one. In the eighth measure, the chordal arpeggios are interrupted by a chromatic scale line, not terribly remarkable in itself but impactful here because of all the chordal regularity leading up to it. The second (repeated) period returns to the original arpeggios, enlivened only by some interesting off-beat chords in the bass.

Ex. 13-A

Variation II, still dominated by the piano, is busier, with sixteenth-note broken third patterns replacing the eighth-note arpeggios of the first variation. Melodically, the piano stays close to the original tune but does so while incorporating a new, mildly syncopated figure. The violin contributions are a little more interesting but still mostly reliant on repeated patterns. What is new is the fact that Beethoven takes a few small liberties with the original harmony, starting in the ninth measure of the first section and introducing a harmonic sequence not in the original, along with some interesting chromatic motion in the bass. The second section returns to a more conservative approach harmonically, but exploits a sweeping crescendo and a fortissimo conclusion to lend a little variety.

Variation III is pleasant if unremarkable. Quieter and more legato throughout, the stepwise melody is presented mostly in thirds, the violin doubling the piano or by the piano alone. The two show a bit more independence in the second half of the variation and there is a nice rhythmic ebb and flow between the piano's treble and bass clef parts.

Variation IV is more robust and vigorous with an almost perpetual motion flow of sixteenth notes, cascading in the first section and more arpeggio-based in the second. The piano generally dominates, but the violin steps forward with flourishes of sixteenth note activity from time to time.

Variation V has a distinctive character because of the give and take between the piano—taking the lead once again—and the rhythmically independent violin part. Unlike the other variations, this one is "through-composed," not divided into two separate sections with the second repeated. An abundance of relatively long-sustained trills also distinguishes the variation, along with the rhythmic contrast between the two parts.

Variation VI is the first minor key variation (F minor), an impressive one in which the violin invents a new melody, fairly remote from the original but exhibiting echoes of it.

Ex. 13-B

Beethoven also takes the opportunity provided by a change in mode to introduce the harmonic variety missing from the last few variations. Of particular interest in measure 6 in his incorporation of a German sixth chord (Fb-Ab-Cb-D), which turns the F minor tonality around and wheels it toward the relative major key of Ab (although it doesn't stay there very long). After the rather bland harmonizations of the last two variations, this chord has a particularly keen impact. The second half of the variation returns to F minor, but is not devoid of harmonic nuance. The melody, however, seems to run out of steam somewhat and starts to repeat itself without any compensating harmonic variety.

Variation VII is basically just a minor key version of Mozart's famous tune, but nevertheless manages to display a few intriguing details, most notably the "off-beat" (actually beat 3) fp entrance of the violin that occurs twice near the end of the second half. Beethoven uses a similar device elsewhere but it's especially effective here.

Back in F major, Variation VIII is short, again in one continuous section, and marked by sweeping eighth-note triplet arpeggios beneath a broadly spanned and chromatically flavored melody. Some of the dynamic surges seem as bit hyper-dramatic given the context (this sort of gesture is frequently to be taken as tongue-in-cheek) and the violin accompaniment of staccato eighth notes actually seems a bit odd in places. But the violin makes up for it later in the second half where it joins with the piano melody to briefly and effectively add its soaring voice.

Variation IX is all piano—energetic and flashy with scales and arpeggios whipping around vigorously at blinding speed. There's not a great deal of nuance here, but it's certainly a good workout for the pianist.

Variation X is more serene, less aggressively virtuosic than its predecessor. The violin and piano take turns delivering ornamented versions of Mozart's melody with the violin taking the more active part as the variation proceeds.

Variation XI stays close to the original melody again, but derives its interest from the trading off between the two instruments of dotted rhythms, sforzandi and staccato off-beat patterns.

Variation XII has the violin quoting the melody, mostly in double stops, while the piano left hand thunders its way through a series of sixteenth-note arpeggios with the bass taking somewhat of a melodic function as it moves up and down by step. It may sound a little too much like a piano exercise for the left hand to modern ears, but fortunately it's not Beethoven's last little bit of insight into Mozart's tune because, following it, we get a clever little coda.

The coda begins as if it's simply going to offer one final tag to the last phrase of the melody. But it doesn't stop there. After a pause, we get a key shift from F major to D major and the violin starts the tune up once again. But, unexpectedly, it veers off to D minor, at which point the bass keeps dropping until we get to B-flat major. The melody gets bandied about rather elegantly in the new key until there is another harmonic shift and the melody is again presented in the original key of F major. At that moment, the tricky trill passage that Beethoven mentioned to von Breuning is introduced. The note C is trilled, first in the right hand and then in the left, but each hand must continue to operate melodically even while trilling. This is obviously one of those clever little pianist devices that Beethoven was anxious to "copyright" by the publication of this piece.

The overall impression left by these twelve variations is, of course, one of cleverness and resourcefulness rather than depth or profundity. But given the nature of the tune (and the role it plays in the opera), that's really all any listener has the right to expect. The goal here is simply to be witty and charming. And, given those expectations, one can only conclude that Beethoven has succeeded admirably.

Rondo for Piano and Violin in G Major, WoO 41

This is a delightful little piece, completed in 1794, abounding in rhythmic energy and high spirits. The harmony is very simple and the phrases are very short and not shy about repeating themselves. Still, the melodies are catchy and reasonably distinctive and proportions are perfect for a short work (only 164 measures, typically under five minutes in performance).

The piece opens in the piano with two repeated four-bar phrases, neither of them straying very far from tonic and dominant. The opening refrain melody is limited in its scope, centered mostly on the third and fifth of the tonic chord, but quick on its feet and rather dashing. Altogether it's a very bright, light sound with the left hand accompaniment mostly consisting of sixteenth-note arpeggiations played in the treble clef.

Ex. 14-A

The violin makes its entrance in measure 9 with a relaxed, expansive melodic statement that really sounds more like a countermelody. Still, it's a nice contrast after all the frenetic activity of the earlier bars, and the piano keeps up the momentum with triadic flourishes in the accompaniment.

Ex. 14-B

This six-bar segment ends on dominant and prepares for the return of the first phrase, which is repeated with only slight changes (including a deepening of the accompanying chords that have migrated into the bass clef), giving the rondo refrain a typical form of a-a'-b-a''.

After a conclusive cadence in the original tonic of G major, a new tune is introduced that will eventually bring about the modulation to the dominant needed to introduce the first episode. This transitional melody isn't much more complex than the rondo refrain, but it's pleasant enough and rich in accented chromatic nonharmonic tones and grace notes. It eventually introduces just a little harmonic variety by tonicizing E minor.

The violin takes the lead in episode 1 (the "B" episode) with a new theme relying heavily on upper and lower neighbor tones.

Ex. 14-C

The piano takes over for the next four bars with an elaborately ornamented version of the same theme. Soon the violin and piano start to trade sixteenth-note passages of broken thirds, after which the dynamic level increases from piano to forte for the first time on some swirling sixteenth-note scale lines. All of this merges into a transitional passage whose job it is to make it back to tonic. This it accomplishes, but not without a brief side trip to B minor via a deceptive cadence reminiscent of a similar passage in the first transition.

We return to the rondo refrain as we expect to do and there are no real surprises until the second episode (the "C" episode), which introduces a clever new tune in the tonic minor, one that resembles the first transition somewhat in its articulation patterns.

Ex. 14-D

Following the violin's statement of this melody, the piano presents it in the relative major key of B-flat. After a pause on a G minor chord, we encounter an unusual transition that features a repeated 4-3 struck suspension and which eventually fades to pianissimo.

The refrain returns once again but it's a bit different this time. The last "a" phrase of the a-a'-b-a'' phrase pattern is missing, replaced by a developmental extension based on the triadic flourishes heard in the piano in the "b" section. Eventually, a new motive is introduced that bears a family resemblance to one of the transitional motives heard earlier. But it doesn't transition to a new episode—the "B'" episode that usually follows the return of the refrain in the typical A-B-A-C-A-B'-A pattern. Instead it moves to a shortened version of the refrain for the last time, a refrain that soon turns into a brief coda, which drives the movement to its conclusion.

By no means a complex piece, this modest rondo is nonetheless effective. Its themes (especially the refrain theme) overflow with energy and high spirits. There is both variety and integration throughout and the form is beautifully matched with the content.

Beethoven was soon to attempt far more ambitious works, but this little rondo is a gem among his early works.

A note on sources:

L. Poundie Bustein was not the first scholar to compare Beethoven's octet with its new "version" as the String Quintet, Op. 4, but his article, "Recomposition and Retransition in Beethoven's String Quintet, op. 4," (The Journal of Musicology, Vol. 23, Issue 1, pp. 62-96) is surely one of the most insightful, dealing at length with Beethoven's use of unusual tonal relationships, including Neapolitan relationships.

Chapter 5

The Op. 1 Piano Trios

Beethoven had originally designated his variations on "Se vuol ballare" as Op. 1 but later withdrew that designation, believing that it should be used instead on some more substantial work. He was wise to choose this set of three piano trios (in E-flat major, G major and C minor) for that purpose. Taken as a set, they are the most consistently effective works he had written to that time and exhibit a number of stellar qualities.

Piano trio in E-flat Major, Op. 1, No. 1

Movement I

Allegro, E-flat major, Common time (4/4)

The first movement begins with an assertive chord on the tonic in all three parts, followed by a softer, but unmistakably formal gesture: a figure that ascends up the tonic triad proudly in emulation of the "Mannheim skyrocket" that came into popularity in the later eighteenth century. (An earlier "skyrocket," somewhat less developed, was heard in the Allegro con spirito section of the Piano Quartet in E-flat major, WoO 36, No. 1.)

Although Beethoven follows this "skyrocket" figure with two additional full-bodied tonic chords, the third chord is transformed (with the addition of a simple flat seventh on the top) into a secondary dominant seventh that moves us in the direction of A-flat, the subdominant in the key. It's a little early to be "undermining" the original tonic key, of course, but by no means unprecedented (Haydn had some famous examples of even earlier tonicizations of the subdominant chord) and Beethoven has no real intention of deserting the tonic key for very long.

Ex. 15-A

After two statements of the ascending triadic motive on Eb, we get the same motive launched from A-flat, followed by a slightly meandering but mostly descending scale line which ends on the dominant note of E-flat. In the meantime, we have made a brief stop in the key of C minor, arrived at through a deceptive cadence in measure 7. Following this initial statement, we hear a brief linking passage in which the cello and violin take turns at presenting the triadic motive, and then a new idea is presented, one which serves as the second part of the first subject.

Ex. 15-B

This new, more lyrical melodic idea consists of a five-note motive that is twice sequenced a step higher, resulting in a gradually ascending shape with a "yearning" quality. This four-bar phrase is immediately repeated in a more ornamented version replete with additional nonharmonic tones. After a brief "tail" in which the ascending triadic motive is heard several more times in piano and cello, we are led into the beginning of the modulatory transition— a series of bustling scale lines in the piano with short interjections from cello and violin. This predictably cadences in the key of the dominant (B-flat major) and we arrive at the second subject.

Whereas the modulatory transition had been somewhat noisy, the second subject is very quiet and introduced with a beautiful little two measure lead-in from cello and violin.

The second subject appears almost chorale-like at first glance but the articulation pattern suggests otherwise. Still, it is generally homophonic in texture and initially moves in longer note values. (See. Ex. 15-C.)

The second subject moves fairly quickly toward C minor, tonicizing it twice and giving the passage an almost "modal" feel. The second phrase starts in C minor but wastes no time in reaffirming B-flat major, ending on the dominant of that key.

The entire eight-bar period is then repeated, the melody an octave higher in the piano with the violin supplying decorative scale lines against it. There are a number of piquant harmonic details here, not remarkable in themselves perhaps, but which add substantially to the harmonic richness of the passage.

Ex. 15-C

After the second restatement of the theme and a repeat of the last two measures, we are introduced to a gorgeous new melodic idea. Like the first subject, the second has two distinct parts, and in this case the second part contains one of the most elegant melodies Beethoven had composed to that point.

Ex. 15-D

It begins on the subdominant chord, features a distinctive falling fifth, and is quite short—the initial presentation is only two bars long. But it's a wonderful little melody and Beethoven immediately begins to embroider it beautifully. After a few measures he simplifies it somewhat and proceeds to engage in a rapturous trio in which violin, cello and piano all share the thematic material equally.

Following this we hear a transitional section marked by piano trills ornamenting a generally ascending scale line and a series of faster moving scale passages. The end result of all of this is an emphatic cadence on F major. At this point we are introduced to the closing section. The theme is a fairly modest affair, consisting of staccato triplet scale passages leading into a simple lyrical phrase that begins by revolving around the third of the tonic B-flat major chord.

Ex. 15-E

This proceeds for some time until it is interrupted by a more emphatic triplet pattern that eventually introduces the codetta, characterized by subtle syncopations in the bass and coquettish little violin trills as we head for the cadence that ends the exposition.

The development section immediately begins with the ascending triad motive (the "skyrocket theme) from the opening measures of the movement. This motive is somewhat predictably developed for several measures, taking us through various tonal centers including remote keys such as Bb minor and Gb major. Eventually, the ascending triad theme is exhausted and Beethoven moves on to developing the main theme from the closing section (Ex. 15-E), including the eighth-note triplets. Near the end of the development, as the volume level is reduced first to piano and then pianissimo, Beethoven even re-introduces the codetta theme (minus the violin trills). But the last word is given to the closing section theme as the development section builds to a fortissimo climax right before the recapitulation section begins.

The first subject re-enters in exactly the way it was first introduced. In fact, there is little about the recapitulation that is surprising. The second subject (both parts) and closing section come back in the original tonic as expected, with the second half of the second subject sounding at least as exquisite as before. It's a bit of a surprise when a solid cadence following the recapitulation of the closing theme fails to lead directly to the coda. In its place, we hear a transition section that owes much of its thematic material to motives from the tail end of the second subject. After about nineteen measures of this transition, we come across the real coda, clearly marked by a final return to the "skyrocket" theme. This is followed by a mini-second development section (increasingly common in Beethoven's later codas) that focuses, not surprisingly, on the same ascending triadic motive. But that familiar motive does not completely dominate the coda; the delicate and coquettish codetta theme is brought back, with the mild syncopations in the bass but (again) without the violin trills, before three final appearances of the skyrocket and a triumphal final cadence in tonic.

Movement II

Adagio cantabile, A-flat major, 3/4

The slow movement begins with a well-developed lyrical theme in the piano, based initially on a three-note motive starting on the third of the tonic chord (C), moving to the upper neighbor (D-flat) and then descending by step down to the tonic. (Watson sees a connection between this motive and the one leading into the second subject in movement I) This leads into a wide-spanned melody consisting of a series of ascending lines or arches, none starting from the same note.

Ex. 16-A

The chord progression supporting this series of mostly two-bar phrases is straightforward enough, although Beethoven once again tonicizes the subdominant chord (D-flat major) very early in the game.

It's a promising melody (albeit an emotionally neutral one) and Beethoven brings it back again and again with various adornments throughout the movement. Formally speaking, the movement is something of a rondo with the initial theme representing the refrain theme. But, like a lot of slow-movement rondos (a fairly rare genre to begin with), the form is by no means an exact copy of the fast-movement prototype for the form; there are fewer well-developed episodes and the use of transitions and retransitions is far from predictable.

Following the initial eight-bar statement of the theme, we hear a slightly peculiar four-bar phrase of rather sparse staccato eighth notes in the violin, cello and piano. This segment seems at first hearing to be an unlikely continuation of what came before, but will prove to be most effective when returning in richly elaborated fashion later in the movement. After the staccato passage, we return to the main theme with the central melodic idea now presented in the violin in a luxuriously ornamented form.

At this point in a rondo, one might well expect a modulatory transition that moves the key to the dominant for the presentation of the first episode. But there is no transition whatsoever at this point and the first episode, a lovely new melody in the cello, answered tastefully by the violin, starts immediately.

Ex. 16-B

The eight-bar period trails off with a few repetitions of the last descending scale passage and an echo of the staccato eighth-note passage. But then, rather than passing to a retransition passage designed to prepare for the return of the original tonic key and a restatement of the rondo refrain theme, we are given another beautiful passage—really part two of the first episode—which is based initially on the second measure of the violin's response (the descending minor triad) and which starts on the subdominant of the key as did the second half of the first subject in the first movement of the work. Whether this is a purposeful connection or not, the effect in both cases is similar: the second part of the episode is even more effective than the first half. A final lyrical phrase, very much in the spirit of the opening lyrical phrase by the cello, confirms the key of E-flat major as the episode finally comes to an end.

There is a fairly slight retransition of five bars that brings us back rather abruptly to the original tonic key (A-flat major) and the refrain melody, embroidered with trills, returns. But this time, instead of moving to the pizzicato eighth-note section after eight bars, we shift suddenly into A-flat minor and, in that key, the piano presents a new variation of the same melody. After just four bars, we move on again to another new key—E-flat minor—where the violin restates the melody. But we're not finished with our tonal roaming; we proceed to F minor where the cello presents its own version of the melody. As this tonally unstable passage unfolds, we rather lose sight of the original theme than spawned it, and we conclude with a somewhat surprising section that rather bluntly declares the tonality of C major with a series of arpeggiated chords.

None of this is really customary for the first return of the refrain in a typical rondo form. In some ways it seems more fitting for a developmental "C" episode because of its tonal restlessness. Nevertheless, after a short and puzzling transition that reiterates the note C a number of times (and looks ahead somewhat to the Scherzo movement to come), we are transported to the original tonic of A-flat and yet another version of the refrain theme returns, one characterized by a number of clever rhythmic displacements. This time the eighth-note pizzicato section does make an appearance, a very effective one, since many of the original gaps are now filled with attractive lyrical phrases by the violin.

Once this newly ornamented version of the refrain theme has run its course, we get another transition, this time based loosely on the violin's fills from a few measures earlier. This transition, over the course of its thirteen measures, eventually introduces a few new ideas of its own (including some rather poignant ones) and even modulates away from A-flat major briefly. But there is no lasting change in the tonal center and this section turns out to be less a bona fide episode than yet another retransition back to the now very familiar rondo refrain theme. That theme, now presented in highly abbreviated form, disintegrates in short order into a brief coda that softly guides us to the end of the movement.

Movement III—Scherzo

Allegro assai, E-flat major, 3/4

This Scherzo provides an extreme example of the sort of motivic persistence for which Beethoven was to become so well known. Starting after a "pickup" note on C, the three quarter note motive (C-B natural-C) that begins the movement dominates it, almost from beginning to end. Ironically, the first five bars are somewhat confusing in terms of their tonal implications when first heard. Are we in C minor? By the second full measure, this motive, presented by the violin, has given way temporarily to a series of dotted half notes played in octaves by violin and cello. The line seems to suggest an implied tonicization of F minor by the fifth measure and the whole effect is vaguely ominous. (See. Ex. 17.)

But it all goes by very quickly of course, and almost before we know it, the implied F minor triad turns out to be an actual dominant seventh on F, which in turn tonicizes B-flat major. Then the initial motive recurs and we're back to where we started from in terms of tonal ambiguity. But by the fifteenth measure of the opening section, things have finally been clarified: the B-flat chord (now with a seventh adorning it) is clearly heard as a dominant seventh that prepares the tonic of E-flat major.

Ex. 17

The conclusion of this initial sixteen-bar presentation doesn't mean the end of our three-note motive, however. The next period continues to exploit the motive in the right hand of the piano, presenting it a step higher on each recurrence, all the time alternating with three-note scale fragments in the strings and piano left hand. Beethoven continues on in this fashion for several measures, at which point the violin takes over and repeats the passage accompanied with increased rhythmic energy by cello and piano until we arrive at the double bar and the whole section cadences on the dominant.

The second part of the Scherzo is quite a bit longer than the first, but continues to press the development of the original three-note motive. At the beginning of this new section, the first four bars of the opening theme is heard in the left hand of the piano (playing in the treble clef) but starting on B-flat. It is soon imitated at the octave by the right hand and, after a number of repetitions of the same three-note motive, the violin also joins in the imitation, followed almost immediately thereafter by the cello. Eventually, the imitation breaks off, at which we point the music is heading toward C minor. But as the three-note motive returns yet again in the piano and some clever if rather abrupt modulations take us into other keys, the passage eventually winds down.

But that simply gives Beethoven the opportunity to reload the original theme, which he then presents at the original pitch level (starting on C). This concludes, as it did originally, in E-flat major. At that point, Beethoven takes the opportunity to drive the three-note motive even more deeply into our consciousness (if that's possible) by having the violin state it seven times in a row, starting on E-flat. This is not quite as wearying as it sounds, however, because Beethoven uses this opportunity to introduce us to some of the cleverest chromatic harmony in the movement—a series of secondary dominant and minor subdominant chords that provide an ever-changing harmonic colorfield against which the repetitions take place.

The Trio section, in the "normal" key of A-flat major, is much briefer and not particularly remarkable. The sustained chords in violin and cello and legato melodic fragments (nothing very well developed) do provide some nice textural variety and a relief from the rhythmic insistence of the Scherzo. But, following the Trio, we are of course led right back to the Scherzo section, which concludes with a brief coda that, naturally, calls for a final repetition of the initial motive before ending, somewhat surprisingly, rather quietly after a ritardando.

Movement IV—Finale

Presto, E-flat major, 2/4

The final movement of the trio makes use of a conventional sonata form, albeit one with some eccentricities in the development and recapitulation section.

The first subject immediately grabs the listener's attention with its quick ascending leap of a tenth, from G (the third of the tonic triad) to B-flat (the fifth) an octave higher. After three such leaps, the melody marches quickly down the tonic triad. After four bars of this, the violin (accompanied by cello) introduces a contrasting phrase, initially circulating around the flat seventh of the dominant chord (A-flat) and then working its way down the scale to D, as the harmony cadences on the dominant. (See Ex. 18-A.)

The entire melody to that point is repeated, the second phrase altered to cadence on the tonic chord.

Ex. 18-A

The entire melody to that point is repeated, the second phrase altered to cadence on the tonic chord. The first phrase starts up again, this time with the rhythmic and harmonic gaps filled in by the piano's left hand, but (common enough for sonata form expositions) what at first appears to be a repeat of the theme turns into a modulatory transition. This transition, a high energy affair, goes on for a while, gradually replacing the original motive with sixteenth-note passage work in violin and piano. The rhythm of the opening motive is never completely lost sight of, however, and sforzando accents keep the momentum going until the new key of B-flat is securely established.

The second subject is simplicity itself, the violin initially arpeggiating down a B-flat triad starting on F (and possibly derived in part from the third measure of the first subject) over simple alternations of tonic and dominant.

Ex. 18-B

This guileless little melody, almost march-like in its rhythmic regularity, is repeated by cello, piano and violin again three times, accumulating some modest reinforcement and decoration from cello and piano the last time around.

But as clear and unambiguous as the second subject is, what follows seems almost mysterious. Based on the initial descending triad of the second subject, a piano passage introduces a series of full-diminished seventh chords, none of which resolve in the "normal" functional way. After three of these chords, the key of B-flat major is eventually clarified through more conventional harmonic relationships.

Ex. 18-C

But then the process starts again, this time with an overlay of eighth notes and then sixteenth notes as violin and cello add melodic fragments derived from the diminished chords. All of this is particularly mysterious because, despite the short term sense of tension created by all of these diminished chords, we actually end up right back where we started—in the key of B-flat major—when it's all over.

After a rather bland reassertion of the key of B-flat major, we are off to the closing section, which has two motivic components (neither of them terribly memorable), the first an initial ascending triad figure in the piano.

Ex. 18-D

The second, actually more pervasive, is a flow of arpeggios and broken third patterns in the violin, taken up later by the piano. This closing section blends fairly seamlessly into the codetta where the rhythm (if not the shape) of the closing section piano motive dominates.

The development section begins in a predictable fashion in the key of the dominant (B-flat major) and with a restatement of the initial motive of the first subject. But the motive is soon reinterpreted in the key of G minor and the second phrase of the first subject follows suit.

The next motive to be taken up is the short little rhythmic cell that began the closing section and also made an appearance in the codetta. This motive is tossed around zestfully, intermingled with rapid scale lines and broken third patterns. Eventually the G minor tonic chord becomes G major, which quickly turns out to be the dominant of C minor. Beethoven does some casual tonicizing here and there, but we stick with C minor for a surprisingly long time as the volume level and the intensity of rhythmic interplay both increase.

A little more than halfway through the development section, the rhythmic activity diminishes somewhat and the sixteenth-note activity is replaced by eighth-note Alberti bass patterns in the piano, while the violin and cello lapse into more lyrical passages dominated by longer note values. These are given an almost "Romantic" feel by a series of crescendi and decrescendi on the long held notes.

Ex. 18-E

This new idea goes on for some time, eventually maneuvering us away from C minor and toward B-flat major, which will eventually return us to the tonic in time for the recapitulation. This is not exactly the typical development section, although it started out as one. These longer, more sustained phrases with their passionate dynamic swells certainly provide an effective contrast to the short motivic work that came before, but whether they do a good job of heightening the tension before the return of the of the first subject is another matter.

Why did Beethoven go out of his way to slow down the momentum at the end of the development section at just the point where one would have expected a major buildup to the triumphal return of the first subject (to coincide with an equally triumphant return to the original tonic key)?

It may be because Beethoven felt that the first subject was too slight—not sufficiently powerful or assertive to warrant a big, dramatic preparation. In fact the first theme, its attractive features notwithstanding, seems almost if it would be more suitable as a refrain theme in a rondo, a context where its playful qualities might be more appropriate. For whatever reason Beethoven decided not to preface the return of the first subject with a powerful buildup, this movement provides an excellent example of an early composition in which the style of the development section is carefully tailored to the specific nature of the melodic material featured in the exposition.

The recapitulation proceeds normally at first. The first theme is brought back intact as is the second theme, this time in the tonic key. But the second subject is cut off prematurely and we move immediately to the tonally ambiguous series of diminished chord encountered after the second subject in the exposition, now decorated with descending chromatic lines. This section had appeared just prior to the codetta when last heard, and now it appears to provide a transition to a long coda. This coda begins by tossing around the two-note motive that initiated the first subject, often quite cleverly with some interesting rhythmic displacements. But the coda is not merely an abbreviated second development section in which the same familiar motives get trotted out for another look. Unexpectedly, a diminished chord, a vii full-diminished seventh functioning apparently in the key of E-flat (D-F-Ab-Cb) has its top two notes reinterpreted as G-sharp and B natural, bringing about a common tone modulation to the distant key of E major—the Neapolitan or lowered second scale degree in the original tonic of E-flat major, which was at this point already becoming one of the composer's favorite "exotic" relationships (also readily observable in the third movement of Beethoven's quintet, Op. 4, discussed earlier.)

In the key of E major, Beethoven presents the second subject in what is virtually its original, full-blown version. A slower moving chromatic passage in violin and cello begins to undermine the E major tonality and the job is finished by some clanging fortissimo chords in the piano on a Bb dominant seventh.

The second subject is then presented again, in the much "safer" key of E-flat major, the original tonic. Here it is modified slightly and developed a bit, but that passage too is interrupted, this time by a series of fragments based on the passage of diminished chords heard earlier in this extremely eclectic and rather unpredictable recapitulation. This series of diminished chords is embellished very richly—almost impressionistically at times—by the piano until another idea makes a return appearance: the swelling, lyrical string passage first heard in the latter part of the development section. This is just about the last recognizable thematic utterance, however. We move quickly to high energy passages of scale and broken third patterns reminiscent of the codetta, and a version of the rhythmic motive first heard in the piano (Ex. 18-D above).

But we're not quite finished with the original two-note motive that began the movement; it makes a final appearance, stated in a rather ethereal version, before the second phrase of the first subject returns fortissimo and punctuated with sforzandi to bring us back to earth and quickly and to the end of the movement.

This is a fascinating finale. Beethoven takes some chances in introducing some vague, almost "mysterious" passages from time to time, and his approach to both the development and recapitulation sections shows a willingness to set aside normal expectations in a way that was unusual for him at this point in his composing career.

Piano Trio in G major, Op. 1. No. 2

Movement I

Adagio—Allegro vivace, G major, 3/4-2/4

The first movement begins with an Adagio introduction that strikes a dignified ceremonial pose right from the beginning with its ascending arpeggiation of the tonic chord.

Ex. 19-A

The piano's second measure offers a preview of the violin motive in the third measure, moving melodically from G to A in a motive that will have something of an independent life later in the movement. Meanwhile, the violin's motive, revolving around a repeated C before moving up to E and then down a minor triad, will become the most essential idea in the entire movement. The piano then arpeggiates up the dominant chord in an equally restrained but stately manner, and the violin replies by restating its motive down a step.

But by measure 9, the mood begins to shift somewhat and the introduction takes on a more pensive tone. The thirty-second note piano scales drift upwards and then undulate down in an almost improvisatory flow as the cello provides broadly spanned descending arpeggios for accompaniment. Meanwhile, the key has shifted toward C major, but the situation remains tonally unstable for a while and before long it appears that A minor will be our goal. This too is interrupted—rather dramatically—by a full-diminished chord on C-sharp that takes us to D major, where a new melodic idea built on dotted sixteenth and thirty-second notes is championed by the piano. With subtle accompaniment figures from the violin and cello providing a sense of rhythmic continuity, the piano alternately rushes forward and subsides. But when all is said and done, we stand on a dominant seventh on D with the Allegro vivace standing before us.

The new section starts by quoting the initial violin motive of measure 3, then restates it down a third, while the violin echoes the first motive down an octave. All of this is heard as a continuation of the dominant seventh chord on D that ended the introduction. It isn't until bar 5 when a new melodic idea comes into view.

The tonic chord doesn't arrive until the sixth measure and doesn't stay very long, yielding immediately to a dominant that resolves deceptively to E minor. Eventually, after sixteen bars, we are treated to a solid cadence on tonic after experiencing a first subject that may be lacking a clear sense of melodic direction, but which seems well integrated motivically.

Ex. 19-B

This melody, the first two measures of which echo throughout the movement, is followed by another idea of significance, one based on eighth-note triplets.

Ex. 19-C

Shortly after the new triplet motive is presented, the modulatory transition begins, drawing initially on the first two bars of the first subject. But there isn't a lot of modulating to do in this case and the anticipated key on the dominant (D major) doesn't arrive. Instead, we get a second subject presented initially in E minor. (See Ex. 19-D.)

This new theme resembles the first subject rhythmically but is more tonally focused than the first. After six bars, the same idea is repeated down a step and appears in the "normal" key of D major, although a little extra pungency is provided by the vii full-diminished chords (C#-E-G-Bb) that substitute for the dominant chord.

Ex. 19-D

This new theme resembles the first subject rhythmically but is more tonally focused than the first. After six bars, the same idea is repeated down a step and appears in the "normal" key of D major, although a little extra pungency is provided by the vii full-diminished chords (C#-E-G-Bb) that substitute for the dominant chord. We then flip back and forth between D major and G major for a while (the former embellished by some effective Italian sixth chords) until we finally settle down on the dominant seventh on D while the triplet motives from Ex. 19-C make a comeback.

Finally, the closing section makes its appearance, the main theme rendered by the violin.

Ex. 19-E

This initial presentation is followed by an embellished repeat by the piano with sparse accompaniment provided by violin and cello. One more strong melodic idea emerges as the closing section continues, but it soon yields to passagework, some of it related to earlier themes. There is no clear-cut codetta theme but Beethoven does eventually introduce a quieter, more sparsely textured section that has a very different feel about it. This new section begins securely enough in D major but, before driving to the final cadence of the exposition, takes the time to arrange feints toward other tonal areas, exploiting at times some very clever chromatic progressions. At one point, Beethoven introduces a dominant seventh on E which would appear to be the dominant seventh of the dominant (V7/V), destined to work its way back to tonic. But, at least in the short run, Beethoven has other plans, resolving the chord chromatically to a dominant on G (G-B-D-F) which heads toward C major. Chromatic resolutions of this sort are not unique to Beethoven in the late eighteenth century of course, but Beethoven uses them here with particular skill.

The development section begins with the almost immediate introduction of G minor, which quickly yields to F minor and then the unusually remote key of B-flat minor, sustained for some time over a dominant pedal. Not surprisingly, motives from the first subject dominate (especially the fragment previously introduced in the introduction) and overall this section is more notable for its harmonic adventures than for any subtleties of motivic development.

Nevertheless, the development has its melodic highpoints; impressive new lyrical phrases emerge in the cello, providing a nice foil for the frequent reiterations of the opening motive of the first subject (and its various transformations). Other new keys emerge along the way, but the development eventually works its way back to D major and sits there (or close by) for several measures before the D major chord is transformed into a dominant seventh in the key of G in preparation for the recapitulation.

A long ascending chromatic line in sixteenth-note triplets leads into a return of the first subject, now stated an octave higher than the original in the piano. The recapitulation takes a normal course at first, but the second half of the first subject (based on the eighth-note triplets, (Ex. 19-C) is delayed. After the first part of the first subject is heard (about twelve bars worth), we move directly to the original modulatory transition section, drawing as before on the first subject's initial two-measure motive. But we never arrive at the second subject (which made its first appearance in E minor). Instead, in its place, the second half of the first subject finally makes its appearance.

Why is the second subject never heard in the recapitulation? The selective omission of exposition themes in the recapitulation becomes fairly common in the later nineteenth century, but it's still a bit unusual at this point. Did Beethoven feel that the rhythm of the second subject was too closely derived from a first subject that had already been exhaustively exploited? Or did Beethoven think that the E minor theme would lose too much of its character when translated to a "brighter" G major? It's more likely the former than the latter, but really impossible to know.

The closing section theme does make an appearance at any rate, now entrenched in G major. Following this is the remainder of the original closing section and what could be thought of as the codetta comes back in a somewhat new but still recognizable version.

Following the example of other recent compositions, the coda eventually does a little tonal exploring of its own, veering into G minor for a fairly extended passage, but it's actually more conservative in this respect than one might think. And while the initial first subject motive continues to play its role into the final measures and there are some effective dynamic contrasts on display as the coda heads for the final cadence, the conclusion is on the whole a little less adventurous than one might have expected.

Does Beethoven's thematic material in this movement (and his treatment of it) live up to the expectations developed by the slow, rather pensive introduction that begins it? Possibly it does, but not necessarily. But of course that slow introduction is, after all, an introduction to the entire piano trio, not just its first movement, so final judgment on the matter must await an examination of the other movements as well.

Movement II

Largo con espressione, E major, 6/8

The key for this slow movement is, in relationship to the G major of the first movement, unusual, and the form is also somewhat unorthodox. Watson considers it a double variation (A-B-A-B-A+coda), but because of the key relationships between the two main subjects, it could just as easily be heard as a slow movement sonata form with a modest development section and an ambitious coda.

The movement opens with a simple but elegant melody that shows (as so many of Beethoven's slow movements do) that nobility of expression can be achieved with very simple means. The melody, supported with effective contrary motion in the left hand, is harmonically quite simple, especially for the first four bars.

Ex. 20-A

The first two bars of the tune, with their distinctive dotted rhythms, come to dominate much of the movement, the next two bars being a sequentially generated variant of them. Starting after the pickup notes to the fourth measure, there is a new, gently meandering motive that begins with a lower neighbor figure and then proceeds down the scale. This motive will also play a major role, mostly in the way it informs some of the decorative passagework in the movement, but also because of its chord progression (V4/2/ii-ii6-V7-I6) that underpins it.

Beginning in the ninth measure, the violin assumes the melody with the cello supporting it and the lyrical qualities of the theme become even more pronounced. The violin statement of the theme is cut off after six bars by the piano as it launches a sequential extension of measures 4 and 5 into new tonal areas that seem to signal the beginning of the modulatory transition. Before long we're in F-sharp minor and hear a spacious new theme in the violin, one that subtly foreshadows the second subject. The F-sharp minor chord becomes F-sharp major by the end of the section in order to act as the dominant of B major, the traditional key for a second subject in sonata form.

The second subject is quite simple, exerting its gradual upward motion over a period of four bars.

Ex. 20-B

The harmonic support for this theme is again quite simple, mainly an alternation between tonic and dominant, but the melody still possesses something of a yearning quality because of the abundance of chromatic passing tones. It's accompanied by short but tasteful phrases from the violin and later cello, which, after just three bars, takes on the main melodic interest, replacing the earlier chromatically-inflected stepwise motion with more broadly conceived lyrical gestures. Soon, the violin assumes command and starts to repeat the original six-bar phrase, but then deserts the original key of B major and heads toward G major. Beethoven maintains G major for a surprisingly long time as the cello and violin trade motivically neutral phrases. Eventually, the section starts behaving more like a real (albeit brief) development section, with the opening phrase of the first subject passed back and forth between violin and cello as the piano begins to generate some tension with a series of diminished seventh chords.

Within seven measures the key has swung around back to the original tonic of E major and, in what suggests a recapitulation, the first subject comes back in its "appropriate" key in a mildly embellished version. Now the cello takes its turn at the melody while the piano decorates the theme rather forcefully with staccato scale patterns, the sort of novel textural device that lends some credence to the "double variations" interpretation of the form for this movement.

We seem for a while to be modulating to B major, but it's really just a heightening of the dominant to prepare for the arrival of the second subject, also in the original tonic of E major. But the recapitulation of the second subject remains intact for only three measures and the music is yanked away from E major toward C major. The change of key introduces a section more notable for its tonal fluctuations than its occasional references to the first subject. In retrospect, it can be heard as the beginning of a long, developmental coda. Occasionally here, Beethoven's musings on the first theme come across almost like a free variation (the harmonic progression of the second half of the first theme is quoted almost intact at one point) but in the end it's not the fleeting reminiscences of the first theme, but rather the combination of broad triadic motives from the violin and cello that dominate most of the melodic activity as the movement begins to wind down.

In the last few measures, echoes of the first subject become more frequent in piano, violin and cello, but the coda never raises its voice as it comes to a lovely, delicate conclusion.

Beethoven's "experiments" with form are never gratuitous; in fact, by this point in his career they can hardly be called experiments. For this movement, Beethoven was obviously interested in setting up conventional sonata form key polarities (i.e., setting up the first and second subjects in tonic and dominant respectively) but he wasn't necessarily interested in following through with the full implications of the traditional sonata form. Of course slow movement sonata forms are seldom as "neatly" configured as their faster tempo relatives, and in this case Beethoven felt no obligation to develop the second subject of his movement, perhaps because of its lack of "dynamic" qualities, in quite the way one would expect from a sonata form.

Movement III—Scherzo

Allegro, G major, 3/4

The Scherzo is, for the most part, unambiguously cheerful, even more so than the previous Scherzo (for Op. 1, No. 1), which showed hints of tonal uncertainty in its opening measures. This movement begins with the simplest of melodic material, a scalewise passage that moves up a perfect fourth, from the fifth of the scale up to the tonic.

Ex. 21-A

The piano left hand immediately picks up the motive and continues it up the scale another four steps, harmonized in tenths by the violin. While the piano right hand echoes the motive (actually the doubled line heard in the violin) in measures 4 and 5, the violin and piano introduce a somewhat unexpected E-flat as they invert the motive, sending it back down a fourth. The use of the E-flat, and the F-sharp diminished chord that harmonizes it, give the music the barest hint of G minor, a detail that provides the theme with a little character without injecting much in the way of seriousness.

The second section of the Scherzo begins with the same motive that started the first, now with the first and third measures telescoped together in the piano right hand against a descending version of the same motive in violin and piano left hand. The initial two-bar phrase is immediately sequenced, taking us quickly through A minor, B minor and E minor, while the original motive is replaced by a stepwise pattern of half note-quarter note combinations that echo the final measures of the first section.

Eventually, the original motive spanning a fourth reasserts itself as we return to G major, although it's the inversion of this motive that soon gains ascendancy. Some nice across-the-bar accents inject some pleasing metric uncertainty, and a busier eighth note version of the first motive is heard in the violin and then immediately becomes transformed into piano figuration patterns. Eventually the sforzando reiterations of a cadence are heard, this time taking us back to the original tonic of G major as the section comes to an end.

The Trio continues the playful mood and adds some nice melodic touches. The first section of the Trio begins in B minor with staccato quartet notes and, in the second measure, an octave drop. Not much comes of the octave drop, but the eighth-note figure that follows it does catch the listener's ear.

Ex. 21-B

Starting in measure 7, the jaunty little melody starts to ascend up the scale (reminiscent of the telescoped motive in the Scherzo), returning with a descending triad to end the phrase on B. The four-bar phrase is immediately sequenced a third higher, shifting the tonality to the relative major. Violin and cello then enter to repeat the sequence and cadence the section in D major.

Part two of the Trio introduces nothing new; the falling octave motive starts on D and is sequenced twice, taking us through E minor and cadencing on B minor to prepare us for the return of the Scherzo. This time around, the Scherzo is followed by a brief if fairly innocuous coda in which earlier motives are echoed and a hint of the G minor coloring returns briefly before fading away.

The basic melodic material for this movement may be somewhat slight (particularly the Scherzo section), but this is a spirited movement that, in its simplicity and clarity, plays its role perfectly.

Movement IV—Finale

Presto, G major, 2/4

There is, perhaps, no composer who could surpass Beethoven's skill in writing repeated note melodies (with due respect to Vivaldi, Handel and a handful of minimalist composers) and the insistent nature of the first subject is just one of the things that makes this an extremely clever finale.

The point has often been made that Beethoven's use of sixteenth- note repetitions here is perfectly tailored to the capabilities of the violin and cello and would not have worked as well if assigned (in its original form) to the late eighteenth century piano.

Ex. 22-A

The theme is not just about the sixteenth notes of course; the triadic figures in measures 2 and 4 take on significance later in the movement as well as does (to a lesser degree) the across-the-bar phrasing in measures 5 and 6.

After the first eight-bar presentation of the theme, the piano has its say, accompanied by rhythmic interjections from the violin. Of course its version is a little different.

Ex. 22-B

Obviously, this lacks the rhythmic "punch" of the violin's version, but it does allow the staccato triadic motives in measures 2 and 4 to stand out even more. And of course the piano's statement of the theme comes on the dominant, where the first statement had concluded. The piano's version returns to tonic just in time to launch a third version of the theme, this time played by the cello back on the original pitch (G). But it is not an exact restatement; the second half of the original is abandoned and replaced by fortissimo repeated sixteenths in both violin and cello and a new three-note motive (a simple 3-2-1 pattern) in place of the original triadic motives. This sounds like a concluding tag and that's pretty much what it is, coming to a solid cadence on G major eight bars later.

At that point the modulatory transition takes over. It begins with yet another "tag," the piano duplicating (in its own version) the repeated cadential activity heard in the previous eight bars. But eventually it goes off on its own, introducing new rhythmic motives (subsequently picked up by the violin) along the way. But it's reluctant to leave the security of the home tonic for quite a while and only gradually begins to hint at the key change to come. At that point, another clever new motive is introduced—grace-noted eighths that outline diminished chords in the piano. These compete with the continuing echoes of the repeated sixteenth notes (taken from the first measure) from the violin. Beethoven's use of fps provides the final exquisite touch to this section of mock drama, the sort of mood that the composer exploits so brilliantly.

Finally, the second subject arrives in the key of D major. Although it begins with a lyrical gesture, its use of repeated notes once again plays an important role.

Ex. 22-C

The eight-bar theme seems about ready to repeat when off-beat sforzandi are introduced and the motive first heard in measure 3 is broken off and sequenced, creating a transition to the closing section.

The closing section is not particularly remarkable, relying largely on pumping sixteenth-note octaves in the piano as yet another variation of the original repeated note motive. Although this figure is enlivened by frequent sforzandi and some countermelody activity from violin and cello, the section as a whole is fairly static harmonically, managing only a brief tonicization of E minor to relieve the D major tonality.

The codetta is more interesting. The texture thins down while cello and violin trade motives outlining a perfect fourth that might have been inspired by the Scherzo theme.

Ex. 22-D

These motives are subsequently picked up by the piano and dominate the next several measures. Eventually the dynamic level increases to forte and the general rhythmic activity picks up as well. And yet, just as it appears that the momentum is rolling headlong toward a dramatic cadence to end the exposition, the tempo is slowed and there is a last minute reappearance of the repeated sixteenths motive in the violin. Some unexpected diminished chords on F-sharp further interrupt the flow, but it's really all mock drama once again and, after a dramatic fermata, the repeat at the end of the section quickly brings us right back to the scurrying sixteenth notes of the first section.

Not surprisingly, the development section begins with the repeated sixteenth-note motive in the cello and some relatively fast moving tonicizations and transient (or short-term) modulations. But in fact Beethoven does not go very far afield here, at least initially. He lingers quite a while in E minor, mostly through a series of simple arpeggios and scalewise figures. But after a scale passage that transforms the E minor to E major, he introduces the second subject in that key.

This is not so much a development of the second subject as a relatively straightforward quotation by the piano, embellished by triadic countermelodies from violin and cello. Eventually it gives way to a return of the repeated sixteenth notes from the first subject and these hold sway for a while as a series of modulations take place. Beethoven first moves to D major and then, briefly, to G minor and then C minor, the first key that could be thought of as at all remote from the home tonic.

We then encounter a "holding action" of sorts with German sixth chords repeatedly resolving to dominant sevenths. Finally, the C minor is transformed to C major and the second subject enters yet again. It plays itself out in the new key and, at that point, Beethoven begins to develop the third measure motive of the second subject in much the same way he had previously developed the repeated sixteenths motive from the first subject. Then, after the music quiets to pianissimo, we hear what appears at first glance to be a recapitulation as the violin presents the first subject. But it's another false recapitulation, bringing back only the first four measures of the first subject and coming back in D major rather than the "correct" key of G major (the original tonic) and accompanied by counter-motives from the piano that resemble the piano's version of the same sixteenth-note motive (as seen in Ex. 22-B).

Still, Beethoven is remarkably persistent with this false recapitulation (truncated though it may be) and it's quite a while before the repeated sixteenth-note motive is surrendered, gradually to be replaced by the piano's lower-neighbor sixteenth-note motive and some descending triadic figures. Eventually the piano passes into a passage of eighth notes based on triadic and broken third figures and the "real" recapitulation does take place, the cello reintroducing the entire first subject in the "correct" key this time. But even though the key is right, the new piano accompaniment pattern provides such a different "feel" to the passage that it still doesn't seem quite like a "regular" recapitulation.

But normalcy eventually returns and the recapitulation runs its course in the expected way. The second subject is brought back in the original tonic in the piano, and then repeated in octaves in the violin and cello (a new wrinkle). A recognizable version of the closing section is brought back in tonic as is the codetta. This is followed by a coda in which the repeated sixteenth-note melody is predictably a major player (albeit with a new countermelody provided by the cello) and the violin actually quotes the piano's version of that theme (the lower-neighbor version).

Although Beethoven often uses the coda to once again explore new tonal territory, he is quite conservative in this case, never venturing very far from G major. As we approach the final cadence, the music quiets (except for some strategically placed sforzandi) but the rhythmic activity picks up, as the piano's sixteenth note-motive increasingly dominates the action. Just as in the end of the exposition, the tempo slows in the final measures and we hear a somewhat droll version of the piano's motive, played softly by the violin in slow motion. But the mood passes almost instantly, as a clangorous fortissimo and multiple-stop sixteenth notes in the violin bring the movement to a boisterous conclusion.

There's no question that this is one of Beethoven's most charming finales to date and one of the first in which he demonstrates his skill in generating a great deal of fascinating music from modest resources.

Piano Trio in C minor, Op. 1, No. 3

Beethoven believed that No. 3 was the strongest of this set of piano trios. Haydn, on the other hand, cautioned against publishing it (more about that later).

What is it about the C minor piano trio that provoked such disparate responses from composer and teacher?

Movement I

Allegro con brio, C minor, 3/4

The key of C minor clearly held some special significance for Beethoven and some of his most intense and dramatic music was composed in that key. This trio proves no exception and some of its special qualities are evident from the beginning.

How would one characterize the first subject? It has been described variously by commentators over the years. Roger Fiske describes it as "neither innocent nor urbane" and "restless and questioning." The first four bars introduce one of the most important thematic elements in the piece, one that dominates the development section.

Ex. 23-A

The opening measures, with violin and cello doubling the melody in octaves, waste no time in securely establishing the key. But while there is no real tonal ambiguity, there is a palpable sense of tension as early as bar 9, where the diminished seventh chord on the leading tone is mounted on top of a dominant pedal as the violin floats a brief but expressive cadenza above it. The resolution to the dominant chord in the next measure clears up the temporary dissonance neatly enough (although a strategically placed violin appoggiatura puts even that in doubt), but the statement has been made: this will be an emotionally charged first movement.

After measure 10, it becomes rhythmically charged as well, as the three staccato eighth notes usher in the second main idea of the first subject. This motive controls the next seven bars, after which a third idea, one characterized by weak-beat sforzandi and dramatic upward leaps of a minor sixth or perfect fifth, is introduced. These are imitated two bars later with the same vigor by the violin with accompaniment from the cello. Some twelve bars later, the first subject comes to a close on the dominant with some swirling scale lines, strategically doubled by violin and cello.

The modulatory transition begins immediately afterward. The opening measures of the first subject are presented in the key of A-flat, but the notion that this will be a simple restatement of the theme in a new key is short-lived; five bars later Beethoven interrupts the key with an inverted E major chord, a flat submediant (bVI) in the key of A-flat and a Neapolitan sixth in the key to which we're heading—E-flat major. This is followed by a vii diminished seven in E-flat and a vii diminished seven of the dominant in the same key. The route is a bit circuitous and our short-term goal actually turns out to be E-flat minor, which Beethoven dances around for some time, employing an intense transition motive that clearly owes quite a bit to the staccato eighth note-motive from the first subject.

Ex. 23-B

As is often the case, the sense of urgency owes a considerable amount to the well-placed accents, but the delicate three-note staccato lead-ins to those accents also play a key role in achieving the desire effect.

Ultimately, a gentle linking scale passage dissipates the dramatic urgency of E-flat minor, the clouds open, and a light, playful theme in E-flat major appears in the piano. The theme benefits from a simple but effective little countermelody in the violin. The harmony is rudimentary, restricted to tonic and dominant chords and the simplest of Alberti bass patterns in the left hand. And yet the effect is magical.

Ex. 23-C

After eight bars, the theme is passed to the violin as the key changes to A-flat major. Following this second presentation, a lovely little "tail" to the second subject appears in the violin. Short but sweet and sporting a delicate internal pedal, this idea is immediately repeated in A-flat minor, producing a bit of tension in the process.

Ex. 23-D

This merges into a transition to the closing section, a particularly effective one in which the tension hinted at in earlier climaxes becomes fully realized, peaking with a very quiet but austerely strident interval of a tritone (E-flat to A) in the solo violin. This is followed by a more robust passage dominated by fortissimo swirling scale lines in the piano and violin, and cello motives derived freely from the opening measures of the first subject.

Ex. 23-E

And while we may be in the area of the closing section, we find that the harmonic ground is still shifting as Beethoven begins to sequence quickly through a series of different keys.

In time the music quiets, and Beethoven introduces a beautiful transition between the more robust beginning of the closing section and the codetta to come. Watson aptly describes the passage as "almost Schubertian in its longing and despair."

The harmonies seem to float under the yearning little melodic fragment, avoiding a root position tonic (which would provide too stable an anchor) and featuring an exquisite use of a Neapolitan sixth chord (the second measure of Ex. 23-F).

But Beethoven is not finished with his harmonic sleights of hand; when it appears that harmonic closure is at hand, he moves to a deceptive cadence and a little later to a chromatic modulation employing a vii diminished of dominant.

Ex. 23-F

Finally, the brief codetta arrives, marked by the motives from the second part of the first subject (Ex. 23-B) and the exposition comes to an end over a series of tonic pedals.

The development begins, not surprisingly, in E-flat minor, with echoes of the opening measures of the exposition. But almost immediately there is a common tone modulation—the Bb (the fifth of the first key) is reinterpreted as A-sharp, the leading tone in the new key of B major. The new key controls the action for no more than four measures when the dominant seventh chord (F#-A#-C#-E) is transformed into G-A#-C#-E and then to C-E-G-Bb to take us to F minor. Chromatic modulations of this sort of occurred in some of Beethoven's earlier compositions of course, but seldom in so concentrated a fashion.

Meanwhile the motive from bars 3-4 of the first subject is passed from the piano to the cello and violin as a quiet, dolce passage gives way to an extroverted fortissimo one. It's not until Beethoven has provided a secure cadence in F minor that a new motive, derived from the second part of the first subject (see Ex. 23-B), begins to dominate in the piano. As we move to A-flat major, first the cello and then the violin begins to contribute comments on the same motive. Then, through another very clever modulation, Beethoven reinterprets the A-flat triad (after attaching a seventh to it) as an augmented sixth chord and heads us back to C minor. It takes a while to actually get there and, as one might expect, the path is anything but direct, but eventually the recapitulation begins and the first subject is brought back in its original key.

The statement of the first half of the first subject is straightforward enough, but before we get to the second half, Beethoven engages in a little development of the opening theme. He starts this in C major and, through a chromatic modulation, moves to D-flat major (his favorite Neapolitan relationship again) as the two motives from the opening four bars of the movement are combined in violin and cello.

Eventually, the second half of the first subject is brought back in C minor and things proceed quite "normally" for a while. The actual transition to the second subject is actually quite short and, when it arrives in C minor, the theme is more haunting than one would suppose, given how cheerful sounding it had seemed in its original incarnation.

The closing section is recapitulated in good order and that lyrical linking passage (the "Schubertian" one) is as effective as ever. A version of the original codetta returns, now modified to achieve an even greater level of intensity. This extends into the coda, where the use of the tonic pedal in the last several measures guarantees that the level of dissonant intensity is unremitting through to the end. Although this movement certainly contains a variety of theme types and moods, it is in the end its level of intensity that leaves the strongest impression.

Movement II

Andante cantabile con Variazoni, E-flat major, 2/4

Beethoven's slow movement is a theme and variations with some attractive details and passages of great beauty. It does not particularly match the first movement in terms of depth, nor does it intend to do so.

Beethoven's theme is simple and pleasantly serene, its first four-bar phrase descending in broken thirds over straightforward tonic and dominant harmonies.

Ex. 24-A

The second phrase begins similarly but soon ascends chromatically. It peaks on tonic and then engages in a little cadential passage ending on the tonic, its momentum spurred by a couple of secondary dominant chords.

Violin and cello take over at that point, presenting the theme again with a slightly modified harmonization. This time it ends on the dominant, preparing for the second part of the theme. But the second part doesn't provide any true contrast; it opens by repeating the third bar of the first section a couple of times, still attractively harmonized by the left hand's thirds in contrary motion.

Ex. 24-B

After a cadence back on tonic, the second part of the second section is a near-duplicate of the first eight bars of the movement, the violin taking over the melody after the first phrase. The result (not counting a little cadential tag) is the familiar rounded binary form of a-a'-b- a''.

After saturating the listener rather thoroughly with this simple theme, Beethoven mostly ignores it in the first variation. The most prominent motive heard is a new one, a combination of a turn and a large ascending leap (first a sixth, then a minor seventh) in the piano, heard over a variant of the original chord progression.

The second half of the variation holds closer to the original melodic shape with a "filled-in" version of the original phrase in the piano right hand, imitated at the octave a beat later in the left hand.

Variation II has the cello opening with a sixteenth-note variation of the original melody against syncopated, descending triadic figures in the violin and later the piano. (The violin and cello reverse roles four bars later.)

The second half of the variation again features the violin and cello, opening with a sixteenth-note figure comparable to the one first appearing in the first variation but this time more chromatically inflected. As in the other variations, the theme's original form is respected and the opening measures of the variation return once again to round off the section.

Variation III once again features the piano with prominent appoggiaturas and sequentially based thirty-second note patterns keeping the rhythmic momentum high. The second half of the variation turns more to broken third patterns, but again features imitation between the piano's right and left hands. A clever use of pizzicato in cello and violin lend a particularly whimsical effect.

The minor key variation that follows once again represents one of the high points of the movement. While the shape of the original melody remains largely intact, we have nevertheless entered a completely different emotional world because of the richer harmonization. The cello is featured first while the violin takes up the melody four bars later. The piano provides a new, lightly syncopated accompaniment and exhibits brief crescendi and decrescendi that add to the emotional tone.

In the second half of the variation, the violin leads the way with a figure based on the original melody, but the added sforzandi and accented dissonances created against the cello's imitations lend a totally new level of tension. The opening phrase returns quietly in the piano as the variation softly fades away.

Variation V is both more extroverted and more frothy, a purely decorative exercise. Back in E-flat major, the theme is presented in the violin (with some double stops) and cello accompaniment, while the piano spins gentle chromatic lines against it. For the second half of the variation, Beethoven substitutes sixteenth-note triplets for the sixteenths of earlier variations but the imitation at the octave one beat later remains intact.

As insubstantial (though charming) as this variation might be, its conclusion—a deceptive cadence on C minor—suggests that there is more to come, and the coda that follows is by no means a disappointment.

Although not lengthy, the coda begins in a rather mysterious, even puzzling manner. Based melodically on the familiar broken thirds of the initial theme, the first four of five chords that are encountered in the piano are foreign to the key of E-flat and, initially, the key seems to stabilize only on C minor. Some familiar figures make a fleeting appearance, e.g., the sixteenth-note triplets from Variation V, which are here transformed into a gentle, serene flow that escorts us to the quiet conclusion of the movement.

Although its effects are subtle, it is this coda, more than any of the individual variations (with the possible exception of the E-flat minor variation) that reminds us just how far Beethoven has come with his C minor piano trio.

Movement III—Menuetto

Quasi Allegro, C minor, 3/4

This is, in many respects, a surprisingly conservative minuet, although one not without its charms and subtle surprises. The theme, played by the piano with minimal accompaniment from the strings, unfolds in a narrow range, focusing initially on the half step between the leading tone and the tonic over simple tonic and dominant seventh harmonies.

Ex. 25-A

The second phrase begins with the same motive moved up a third, but doesn't develop in quite the same way. Instead of returning to tonic as we might expect, the phrase moves rather quickly to tonicize the subdominant (F minor) in just three bars, leaving us "up in the air" so to speak when the fermata arrives. This is the sort of asymmetrical phrase-pairing that Haydn was a master of, but Beethoven handles it here as adroitly as his teacher. But Beethoven is, as it turns out, not serious about F minor as a real tonal goal; it becomes a pivot chord to take us (more orthodoxly) to the relative major of E-flat major, as a new rhythmic pattern is introduced and we descend melodically through a series of seventh chords before ending up at our new goal.

In the second section of the Menuetto section, the descending half-step motive is continued in the piano with its free inversion heard in the violin and cello. Between these statements, however, the piano engages in a series of rapid, ascending arpeggios of the dominant seventh chord in E-flat. After five bars of alternating the half-step motive and the rapid arpeggios, the longstanding dominant seventh chord finally resolves, but to C minor rather than E-flat major. The next several measures extend the C minor tonality as the alternation between the short melodic fragments and arpeggios continues. The section concludes with a variant of measures 5-8 and a confirming cadence in C minor.

But we're not quite finished with the Menuetto section. There is a brief codetta (twelve bars) that serves as a link to the Trio section and, subsequently, to end the movement. This little section, marked by strong beat dissonances and weak beat sforzandi, establishes (however briefly) quite a different mood. It continues to play with the earlier half-step motive along with a newer piano theme that gradually makes it way down the scale an octave and a half starting on a high E-flat. But its novelty arises primarily from the austerity of the imitative passage with which it begins and its use of dissonance.

If the brief codetta hints at mysterious overtones, the Trio section would seem to be remarkably conventional and, in fact, somewhat old-fashioned for a composer who was already beginning to make his reputation for novel and unexpected effects. The section, which begins in C major, starts with the simplest of descending scale patterns, followed by a sweetly naïve little melody in the cello. (See Ex. 25-B.)

This simplest of phrases is (after an intervening piano scale line) balanced with another cello phrase (which has moved up a third) that does not in fact quite balance it, but extends a little longer. So in a context where the listener might well expect completely symmetrical phrase pairings, we are again denied them. But of course the context here—an old fashioned trio section in a fairly old-fashioned minuet—is the perfect place for Beethoven to play with the listener's expectations and he does so masterfully here.

Ex. 25-B

The second section of the Trio continues with the most basic of melodic-harmonic materials. It begins with what is essentially a prolongation of the dominant for eleven measures and the melodic activity is split between scale lines and chromatically-inflected fragments based around the dominant seventh chord. In the second half of the section, the cello melody from the first half is brought back, followed by a little extension marked by a number of sforzando accents and a confirming cadence in C major, after which the Menuetto is repeated from the beginning.

While the half-step motivic work of the Menuetto section and its surprisingly austere little codetta lend some weight to it, the Trio section comes across as no more than a pleasant and rather frothy lyrical episode. The question, of course, is where the Finale for this trio will fall within this spectrum? Will it echo the somewhat weightier approach of the first movement or the more high-spirited and lighter atmosphere of the Menuetto?

Movement IV—Finale

Prestissimo, C minor, Alla breve

How does the finale fit in the other three movements? It begins almost heroically with a robust quasi-introduction. (See Ex. 26-A.)

This opening does not function in quite the same way as the other introductions we've observed in Beethoven's chamber music. It's the same tempo as the rest of the movement and is repeated along with the rest of the exposition.

Ex. 26-A

This opening does not function in quite the same way as the other introductions we've observed in Beethoven's chamber music. It's the same tempo as the rest of the movement and is repeated along with the rest of the exposition. It also makes an appearance in the development section, although that is by no means unheard of even for "true" introductions. It is clearly separated from the first subject "proper" by a dramatic fermata after the seventh measure. But it is motivically related to that first subject; the major thirds at the top of the arpeggio are inverted to make up a key motivic element in the first subject.

Ex. 26-B

Of course the repeated descending thirds of the first, third and sixth measures also summon up the arpeggios from the previous movement as well, suggesting that Beethoven was consciously creating motivic links across movements. Just as crucial, however, is the descending minor second in the second measure, itself set up by a descending leap. The pattern has been smoothed out somewhat by measure 6 into a stepwise flow, and it is that pattern that is played out for the next three measures as we move briefly to the relative major key of E-flat. But both versions of the motive (the descending half step and the stepwise pattern) are to play an important role at many points in the movement.

The initial statement of the first subject is twelve bars in length, at which point the piano takes the melody while the violin provides a countermelody of pulsating eighth notes against the longer sustained tones of the cello. This second statement is extended to fifteen bars with a repeated cadence pattern and is followed immediately by another fortissimo statement of the introduction which, in this instance, serves as a link to modulatory transition.

After another fermata, the transition begins, already locked into the relative major from the opening measures. Although the transition has no heavy-duty modulation to concern itself with, it keeps itself busy with a number of references to first subject motives in both the cello and piano. And eventually there is some chromatic activity, about halfway through the transition section, where we begin to head to E-flat minor. At that point, Beethoven's sforzando markings start to become more insistent and a certain amount of dramatic tension is stirred up.

It's fairly short lived, however, and a gentle, descending staccato scale line delivers us safely back to E-flat major before the second subject begins. The second subject is a more lyrical, serene affair, unfolding mostly in two-bar phrases with the second a sequential repetition of the first.

Ex. 26-C

Its third phrase reaches up to the upper octave before making its way down. The violin takes the melody next, its version departing from the original in measures 6-8 as it drops an octave from the Eb and circles around the G. It also features its own little tag, repeating the last four bars of the theme before cadencing in preparation for the closing section.

The closing section begins with a reference to the assertive ascending arpeggios of the introduction, while violin and cello remain busy with accented repetitions of the repeated thirds from the first subject. The section blends into the codetta, which features some new off-beat sforzandi and moves toward A-flat minor as the motives from the first subject stay continuously in play. The first ending of the exposition moves the key cleverly back in the direction of C minor for the repeat, while the second ending starts heading toward F minor and the beginning of the development section.

Not surprisingly, the development section starts with a repeat of the introduction, this time in F minor. It skips (for the moment) any reference to the first subject, however, and instead the piano quotes the second, more lyrical subject in F major against a violin countermelody. The violin then takes charge, still in F major. But after a few measures, Beethoven provides for us a splendid common tone modulation from F major to D-flat major and the melody is repeated once again in the violin, this time sounding miraculously different because of its juxtaposition to an exotic new key.

After presenting the theme intact, the composer then starts fragmenting the second subject, breaking it into its two-measure components and modulating first to E-flat minor and then back to F minor. At times violin and cello lead the way with the piano providing decorative scale lines against the thematic fragments, and at times the roles are reversed. Eventually, we move toward G minor and then C minor, in which key Beethoven launches into repeated octave leaps in the bass beneath an arpeggiated descent down a dominant seventh on G (in a passage that is reminiscent of one in his Piano Sonata in F minor, Op. 2, No. 1, which he may well have been working on concurrently with the piano trios). This fiery passage gives way to a long chromatic line in the piano before the recapitulation begins, minus the introduction. The first subject is presented in the piano first with the violin taking the second presentation (the reverse of the exposition). This time the cello also takes a turn with the first subject, overlapping with the recapitulation of the original modulatory transition.

If there are few major surprises in the recapitulation, there are some subtle changes of interest. A long dominant pedal in the cello against the return of the second subject (this time in C major) gives it a rather different feel. And the last four bars of the second subject, which had been repeated in the exposition, are now heard three times, moving toward C minor in the process.

The closing section and codetta are brought back in predictable fashion, but the intensity level is somewhat higher because of the C minor tonality. The coda introduces no new motivic elements but does feature a very surprising key change: the root of a dominant chord on G slips down a half step and the key of B minor appears almost out of thin air, bringing with it a reference to the first subject. But it's the half-step motive from the first subject that ultimately dominates the coda, although the movement actually concludes in a surprisingly benign mood with a series of C major scales traded back and forth between the right and left hands of the piano, after which we end on a gentle (pianissimo) C major chord.

Beethoven considered this work to be the best of the three trios from Op. 1 and for good reason. Its first movement has a number of strikingly original features and yet is completely logical and coherent. The slow movement, Menuetto and Finale are more orthodox but still contain some interesting and innovative features.

So what is there about Beethoven's third piano trio that apparently gave Haydn so much pause that he purportedly advised him not to publish it? Historians and commentators have suggested a variety of reasons: the work is too explicitly emotional; it introduces chromaticism for coloristic effects rather than just for bringing about modulations; the work is too erratic in its approach to form.

There is no simple explanation for Haydn's lack of enthusiasm about the C minor piano trio. It seems reasonable to think that Haydn may have been reacting against some of the novelties that appear in the first and fourth movements and, to a lesser degree, the second and third. Haydn was apparently in London for the period in which Beethoven had been working on the third piano trio and, not having seen it in its earlier stages of development, he was perhaps somewhat taken aback by encountering some features he had not expected.

Or perhaps it was because Haydn was developing a somewhat negative perspective on Beethoven's emerging compositional approach in general, particularly the younger composer's interest in innovation and explicit emotional content in particular. We'll investigate some of these possibilities in the next chapter as we take a look at Beethoven's relationship with Haydn (and his other teachers as well) as he attempted to find his way in the competitive musical world of Vienna.

A note on sources:

Roger Fiske's article on Beethoven's chamber music in Alec Robertson, ed., Chamber Music (Penguin Books, 1970) provides a brief but thoughtful overview of all of Beethoven's chamber music genres. His discussion of the Piano Trio in C minor is particularly insightful/

Chapter 6

Beethoven and his Teachers

Beethoven began composition lessons with Haydn almost immediately upon arriving in Vienna. Of course there is no question that the composer Beethoven had most greatly admired was Mozart. He had studied a number of his scores from the Bonn court library and, when a model for a given composition was required, Mozart was generally his first choice. But Haydn's scores were also available in the Bonn library and there is little doubt that the young composer examined some of them as well. Furthermore, Beethoven was certainly aware of the great respect in which Haydn was held throughout Europe and beyond by the mid-1790s and he must have entered into lessons with the older composer with high hopes and expectations.

Unfortunately, no close bond between the two of them ever materialized. As Tyson has suggested, conflict was almost bound to arise between the two because of differences in temperament: "The childless Haydn no doubt wished for affection and even love from his most brilliant pupil—but that was the one thing that Beethoven was too mistrustful to give."

A number of historians have made the point that Beethoven, given his difficulties with his own father, would have been mistrustful of any father figure. Although Beethoven had always been charitable (and beyond) in his view of Neefe, his primary teacher in Bonn, he was not prepared to extend the same sympathy to Haydn.

George Alexander Fischer, writing in 1905, observed that the differences between Beethoven and Haydn went deeper than temperament:

It was not in the nature of things that two beings so entirely dissimilar in their point of view should work together harmoniously. Beethoven, original, independent, iconoclastic, acknowledged no superior; Haydn, tied down to established forms, subservient, meek, was only happy when sure of the approbation of his superiors. His attitude toward those above him in rank was characterized by respect and deference he probably expected something similar from Beethoven toward himself.

It's unlikely that any modern scholar would have characterized Haydn in quite this way, certainly not in the mid-1790s with Haydn's reputation reaching its zenith and the older composer enjoying greater independence from his employers than in early decades, but it does seem likely that Beethoven saw himself as representative of a new generation of composers, more interested in pleasing himself than his superiors (insofar as he acknowledged their existence). But as proud and self-confident as the young Beethoven was, he knew he lacked some specific skills, and one of them involved the writing of strict counterpoint (an area of instruction that Neefe seemingly had neglected in Beethoven's days in Bonn, although the young composer appears to have consulted some treatises on the subject informally). But when Beethoven began studying counterpoint with Haydn, he was not satisfied with the results, feeling that little or no progress was being made.

This lack of progress was confirmed when, according to the composer Johann Schenk (now known mostly for his singspiels), Schenk happened upon one of Beethoven's exercise books while visiting the composer. As Schenk reported it, Beethoven was still on the first lesson in counterpoint after six months of study. Furthermore, after a quick examination of Beethoven's efforts, Schenk found the manuscript rife with errors that had not been noted or corrected by Haydn. Beethoven, after quickly concluding that Haydn's method of instruction had been too lax, proceeded to take lessons with Schenk, who immediately assigned him Joseph Fux's Gradus ad Parnassum, a standard counterpoint textbook of the day. The lessons were kept secret from Haydn (at Schenk's insistence) and continued from August, 1792, until May, 1793, at which point Beethoven had apparently mastered the skill of double counterpoint. The difficulty with Schenk's account lies in the fact that there seems to be no independent corroboration of this relationship. Some scholars question whether the entire episode may be a fabrication by Schenk, designed to elevate his own reputation.

Nevertheless, it does seem clear that, in 1794, when Haydn returned to London, Beethoven began lessons in counterpoint from Johann George Albrechtsberger, a noted theorist and pedagogue and the Kapellmeister at St. Stephens in Vienna. This was quite probably accomplished with Haydn's knowledge and even assistance. Beethoven came to have great respect for Albrechtsberger, referring to him at one point as "the acknowledged master of all composers." Albechtsberger, on his part, was less enthusiastic about his young charge, complaining later that he had never learned anything and "will never learn anything." Still, there is no question that Beethoven's mastery of contrapuntal skills—including canon and fugue-writing—were substantially increased by his study with Albrechtsberger, skills that were put proudly on display in the slow movement of his Symphony No. 1 in C major and in various other works by 1802.

But regardless of the fact that Beethoven later managed to acquire the skills he needed with the help of other teachers, his reported displeasure with what he took as Haydn's lack of rigor in the teaching of counterpoint (and perhaps even his lack of concern for the younger composer in general) seems to have colored his opinion of Haydn for years. It was, by contemporary judgment, an unfair reaction. As Lewis Lockwood has suggested, "No one would have expected Haydn in the 1790s to devote himself whole-heartedly to correcting counterpoint exercises, no matter how talented the pupil and Haydn hardly had the inclination to do so." It is also reasonable to assume that by that point in his career, Haydn was not particularly inclined to think that the mastery of the various levels of strict counterpoint was necessarily the most important requirement for a young composer. To be sure, Haydn had, in earlier decades, been inclined to trumpet his own skill in fugue-writing (some of his own fugues were carefully identified as such in his score in the 1770s) but by the 1790s, Haydn was likely to have seen strict imitative writing as just one more arrow in the composer's quill and not the most important. Nevertheless, Haydn's teaching of the subject may have been, at least for a while, a bone of contention between the two composers.

The residual bitterness on Beethoven's part may well have been stirred up when Haydn—returning from London after a lengthy trip on which he had no contact with his student—cautioned Beethoven not to publish the third of the Op.1 piano trios (discussed in the previous chapter) although he roundly praised the first two of the set. Beethoven apparently saw this as yet another example of the older composer's lack of good intentions toward him and perhaps even a sign of jealousy.

Haydn himself was less than completely pleased with their relationship. He had probably expected Beethoven to inscribe "pupil of Haydn" on his first published scores as some of Haydn's other students had done. But the three piano trios of Op. 1, dedicated to Prince Lichnowsky, bore no such inscription (although the Op. 2 piano sonatas were dedicated to Haydn). And it's likely that some of Beethoven's complaints about Haydn's teaching reached the ears of the older composer. Haydn later referred to his young student as the "Grand Mogul," although that may well have been a reference to the younger man's arrogance in general rather than a response to Beethoven's complaints about Haydn's teaching.

Nevertheless, the division between them can easily be over-stated. Some historians believe that Schenk's references to Beethoven's disenchantment with Haydn's teaching of counterpoint, (as well as Schenk's claims about his subsequent role in the young composer's education) were at the very least over-stated. Furthermore, there is no real evidence of any dramatic personal break between the two. Although Haydn did not ask the young Beethoven to accompany him on his second trip to England (despite widespread speculations that he would), Haydn did, in December,1795, arrange to have Beethoven appear as a soloist in his own piano concerto (probably Concerto No. 1 in C major) in a concert organized by Haydn. And there is little question that Beethoven continued to respect Haydn's accomplishments as a composer. In fact, Haydn's spectacular successes in the 1790s must have been positively intimidating for the younger composer, making him, perhaps, more than a little defensive about his own modest (at that point) achievements.

Still, there is no obvious explanation for Haydn's reticence regarding the C minor piano trio. But if Haydn was perhaps being overly cautious when he withheld his praise for the third trio, he was by no means the only veteran composer who found some aspects of Beethoven's compositions disturbing, even in the 1790s. Writing in 1798, Johann Wenzel Tomaschek, a composer of some stature and one who was a great admirer of Beethoven's abilities as a pianist and improviser, called into question his

...frequent daring deviations from one motive to another, whereby the organic connection, the gradual development of ideas was put aside...Evils of this nature frequently weaken his greatest compositions, those that sprang from a too exuberant conception. It is not seldom that the unbiased listener is rudely awakened from his transport. The singular and original seemed to be his chief aim in composition...

Was Haydn also reacting to Beethoven's over-exuberance? His striving for the "singular and original?" While it is impossible to know, it is interesting to note that even veteran composers found some of Beethoven's early works to be both exceptional and—at least to some extent—disconcerting. Current admirers of Beethoven are accustomed to hearing works from his middle period, and especially his later period, characterized as in some way novel or even audacious, but Haydn's and Tomaschek's reactions to pre-1800 Beethoven would seem to suggest that at least some of Beethoven's early works were heard in the same way. Of course Tomaschek seems to be reacting against qualities that a modern listener would be more likely to describe as "Romantic" (e.g., the seeking after the "singular and the original") as opposed to "Classic." And while it would be misleadingly simplistic to suggest that Beethoven was merely a "Romantic" before his time (since the composer held doggedly to quite "classical" ideals all of his life), there is no question that his tendency to seek novel and original effects was at the heart of his style, almost from the beginning.

Chapter 7

The String Trios: Op. 3, Op. 8, Op. 9

Historians and commentators have held a variety of views in regard to Beethoven's string trios from Op. 3, Op. 8 and Op. 9. Some have viewed most of them as "training" pieces, works composed to master the techniques of string writing, preparatory to writing the more "serious" string quartets of Op. 18. Although Mozart and Haydn had both contributed to the genre, string trios were fading in popularity by the 1790s and Beethoven never wrote another one after beginning to work on his string quartets.

On the other hand, some have held that the string trios—at least some of them—are excellent early works, brimming with creativity and demonstrating in a sometimes fascinating way embryonic versions of later techniques that were to become some of Beethoven's most distinctive and characteristic.

String Trio in E-flat, Op. 3

Beethoven's first string trio has six movements which, along with its key, has caused it to be compared to Mozart's Divertimento in E-flat major, K.563, at least in terms of the type and pacing of movements. Works of five or six movements, particularly those with two minuets, are often thought to be more in the style of serenades or divertimentos, a designation given to lighter, entertainment pieces as opposed to the more serious chamber works with three or four movements and only a single minuet or Scherzo movement. This work by Beethoven does have some serenade-like qualities to it, but also some perfectly "serious" movements as well, the first of which is the longest and most ambitious and will receive most of our attention.

Movement I

Allegro Con Brio, E-flat major, Common time (4/4)

The first movement begins with restless off-beat syncopations in the violin and viola against pulsating eighth notes in the cello, the sonority reinforced by multiple stops in the two highest voices. While these syncopated rhythms are to play a very large part in the movement, Beethoven abandons them after a single bar, giving way to a repeated dotted eighth and sixteenth note-motive in the violin that arpeggiates up an inverted dominant chord. (See Ex. 27-A.)

This opening phrase is followed by a four-bar phrase in which the process is reversed: one measure of dominant is followed by three of tonic, employing the same motivic elements. It's a rather repetitive beginning and not Beethoven's most inspiring, but the first subject actually consists of a collection of thematic components, some of which are quite attractive.

Ex. 27-A

After this eight-bar period, a more lyrical and expansive phrase is introduced, simple in and of itself, but nicely contrasting.

Ex. 27-B

This phrase is answered by the cello, after which a new passage is introduced, one that reintroduces the syncopations from the first measure on a tonic pedal while employing some off-beat sforzandi and a hint of sentimentality created by the abundance of chromatic neighbor tones.

Ex. 27-C

But Beethoven is not finished introducing new ideas, all under the guise of the first subject group. His third new idea (Ex. 27-D) echoes the descending arpeggio figure from Ex. 27-B while also drawing on the dotted rhythm figure from Ex. 27-A.

Ex. 27-D

The opening measures soon return but, as is so often the case, merely serve as an introduction to the modulatory transition. That transition, based largely on the dotted rhythm figure from measure 2, moves through G minor and C minor before heading toward B-flat major with triplet arpeggios and scale lines carrying us to the second subject in the new key.

The second subject has two clear thematic components. The first begins with an ascending triad on the new tonic of B-flat, gently working its way down from D and circulating around B-flat in a manner not unlike one of Mozart's themes in the first movement of K.563.

Ex. 27-E

The second four-bar phrase is an attractive variant of the first, based on the dominant in B-flat.

The second thematic idea within the second subject group combines elements from several earlier themes, beginning with its ascending arpeggio and including its syncopated (short-long-short-short-long) internal pedal and the "sweet" sounding chromatic lower neighbors.

Ex. 27-F

This coquettish little phrase—quite Mozartean in spirit—is just a little four-bar tag to round off the two four-bar phrases that began the second subject. It brings us back to the dominant so that the entire theme can be repeated, with the cello assuming the melody. The same tag occurs again and repeats in varied form until it is cut off rather sharply by an unexpected new section (pianissimo) in C minor. (See Ex. 27-G.)

This passage, unexpectedly solemn and introspective, takes the role of the closing section although it is certainly not an orthodox one, nor is it prepared like one.

Ex. 27-G

The passage gives way to a series of throbbing eighth-note chords in all three parts, continuing on in G minor and adding a slightly ominous tone to the proceedings, especially as the volume level increases and off-beat sforzandi are introduced. But the key eventually makes its way to the "normal" B-flat major and, in that key, a delightful little codetta phrase is launched.

Ex. 27-H

After the codetta tune has had its say, the main business at hand is to head for a cadence on dominant to end the exposition. But before that happens, there are some ingenious details of which we should take note. In the last few bars of the exposition, Beethoven introduces clever little syncopations on two levels at once.

Ex. 27-I

The last five bars introduce a new idea that is fairly unremarkable in itself, but is to play a major role at the beginning of the development section.

Ex. 27-J

The development section begins very softly with this rather simple idea, taking us quickly through E-flat major on the way to C minor. Following this is a great deal of sequential activity based on a motive loosely related to the second half of the second subject. Eventually we end up in the key of A-flat major where the second theme is presented, largely unchanged from its original appearance, at least initially.

As we reach the second part of the second theme, the syncopations that played such a major role in the first subject are introduced in the first violin, imparting a sense of restlessness to the second half of the second subject not heard in its original statement.

Soon we return to motives from the first part of the second subject as we enter the key of f minor and the music begins to take on somewhat mysterious overtones.

At that point the development section seems almost to be drawing to a close as the tempo slows and a major cadential event seems immanent. But the cadence, when it arrives, is in F major and it soon becomes clear that we've arrived at a false recapitulation of sorts, one that soon veers off to f minor. This deception is not carried on for any great length (the second and third portions of the first theme never materialize) and before long we encounter the triplet patterns first heard in the original modulatory transition. While the syncopated short-long-short-short-long rhythmic pattern continues against the triplets, setting up an interesting rhythmic conflict, and the dynamics escalate to fortissimo, the passage still seems like something of an intrusion within the development section, and whatever intensity had been gained to that point by the false recapitulation now seems lost, at least temporarily, as the section continues on and on.

Toward the end of the development section, the dynamic level is reduced dramatically, although, in typical Beethovenesque fashion, off-beat sfz markings continue to lend some energy. Eventually, the section trails away to near-silence so that the return of the first theme (in the "real" tonic of E-flat major) is heard as a bold and authoritative event. The recapitulation of the first theme is somewhat abbreviated—it's missing two of its important thematic elements— and we get a sense of "hurrying on" to the second subject.

Not surprisingly, the original modulatory transition has been transformed and vigorous sixteenth notes in the viola lend a level of propulsion not found in the exposition. The second subject is brought back largely intact and the closing section, now beginning in F minor and moving to C minor, seems every bit as pensive and mysterious as it did in the exposition.

The codetta is brought back in more or less original form, but a new coda is tagged on, one that begins assertively in C minor but soon makes its way back to E-flat major where it offers a few fleeting—even nostalgic—backward glances at motives from the opening measures of the movement. The last few bars of the movement are marked by quiet, overlapping dotted rhythm figures from the first subject over a tonic pedal. But things change dramatically in the last two measures, which bring about a rousing conclusion by the use of fortissimo multiple-stopped chords.

There's no question that this is the most ambitious movement of the work, and there are more than enough effective melodic ideas and clever rhythmic contrasts to hold most listener's interest.

Movement II

Andante, B-flat major, 3/8

The Andante movement is very courtly and almost self-consciously "galant" in style, although not without witty, even scherzo-like undertones. Set in an abbreviated sonata form, the movement is based on short, four-note motives in the violin (three staccato sixteenths followed by an eighth note), surrounded by rests and minimal accompaniment from viola and cello. While the rhythmic identity for the first subject is consistent, the melodic shape is not, although the four-note units almost always ascend, usually by step.

Ex. 28-A

The texture for the first eight bars is quite sparse, although by the ninth measure Alberti bass patterns in the cello begin to propel the music forward with some vigor.

The second subject returns to the "stately" mood, the violin simply moving up the F major triad, the root and the third both adorned by trills, for the first two bars. The same motive is repeated on dominant a little later.

Ex. 28-B

After the initial eight-bar presentation of the second subject, the Alberti bass pattern shifts to the violin and the viola takes the melody, its motives echoed by the cello. Both the closing section and the codetta are quite modest, although the codetta does provide a brief foray into the key of F minor, an unexpected and welcome bit of tonal variety that stands out quite dramatically after the diatonic predictability of the exposition to that point.

The development section shows even more tonal variety. It begins on a D-flat major chord, presumably functioning in the key of A-flat, although the key remains ambiguous for a little while. Eventually we settle into G minor and stay there for a few measures, the four-note motives from the first subject dominating the action, although idiomatic arpeggio patterns in the violin soon compete for attention.

We move briefly through D minor and C minor before working our way back to the original tonic of B-flat. The recapitulation reintroduces the first subject in more or less its original form, but as the melody passes to the viola, the violin adds some swirling embellishments not heard before. From this point, everything proceeds as expected, but in the varied recapitulation of the codetta, a brief flirtation with B-flat minor once again adds some welcome tonal variety before we make our way gently (albeit with a few off-beat sforzandi here and there) to the end of the movement.

Movement III—Menuetto

Allegretto, E-flat major, 3/4

In some respects this represents a continuation of the mood from movement II: notes are sparse and rests are plentiful, but the melodic material is less "comfortable" here and more quixotic.

The initial theme starts with a descending half step: E-flat (the tonic) down to D, the leading tone. The D remains the melodic goal for the next three bars but it's sometimes preceded by a minor sixth and sometimes a seventh:

Ex. 29-A

The result is both angular and harmonically ambiguous. Nevertheless, Beethoven ramps up the idea just three measures into the second half of the Menuetto:

Ex. 29-B

But if this melody is a little eccentric for a minuet, it is quite distinctive, and that's a great advantage in a work that contains half of its movements in triple meter. Besides, the charm of this particular movement resides as much in the effective off-beat and metrically ambiguous rhythmic effects it exhibits as in its melodic appeal.

The Trio, marked sempre dolce, with lyrical violin and viola phrases over a walking pizzicato bass line in the cello, is more tonally secure in its expression of the new key of A-flat major. It's also more melodically conservative, mostly circulating by step around the third of the tonic chord. The melody unfolds in a series of sequential phrases, eventually making its way to the relative minor key (F minor) as the first section comes to a close. The second section features a surprisingly repetitive and not particularly inspiring melody, working its way through E-flat major and eventually back to A-flat major where the opening measures, slightly varied, are brought back.

Everything proceeds in standard fashion from that point on, although the sustained melody of the Trio is shaped quite nicely by crescendi and decrescendi as the second section draws to a close. After the Menuetto is repeated, a brief but clever coda—which begins in C minor— takes a final look back at the angular melody that opened the movement before concluding securely and gently in E-flat major.

Movement IV

Adagio, A-flat major, 2/4

This is a more conventional slow movement than the second, both in tempo and in style. Formally, it combines the elements of a slow movement sonata form (albeit with a minimal development section) with a short rondo. Generally more lyrical than the second movement, the initial melody is quite simple, revolving around the third of the tonic chord, but understated and sensitive. (See Ex. 30-A.)

Following the opening statement in the violin, the melody shifts to the viola, harmonized in thirds by the cello, the entire passage closing on the dominant chord of E-flat major.

Ex. 30-A

After a fermata, the next section opens with a somewhat surprising C major chord, but it's soon revealed as the dominant of F minor, the relative minor of the opening key. The transitional passage that follows looks both backward and ahead, quoting variants of the opening motive in Ex. 30-A and also previewing the rhythmic shape of the second subject to come.

The second subject also starts on the third of the tonic chord (in the new key of E-flat major), but moves down to the root before working back up the scale. Other distinctive features include the pairs of thirty-second notes, each separated by a sixteenth-note rest, and the B-flat pedal in the viola that supports the melody.

Ex. 30-B

As the four-measure phrase repeats, the B-flat pedal is moved down to the cello but continues to play an important role in defining the passage. Eventually, the music pauses on an inverted tonic and a cadenza-like solo passage for violin is introduced that takes us to a new section, which functions as both closing section and codetta rolled into one. Here the cadenza-like passage is repeated, now harmonized in thirds by the viola, and a new passage introduces a tonally ambiguous diminished seventh chord along with some unexpected dynamic swells and sforzando markings, perhaps the most dramatic gesture in the movement to that point.

But this flash of tension passes quickly away, and Beethoven calmly reasserts the key of E-flat major as we begin a new section—only ten bars in length—that serves as a transition back to the original tonic rather than an authentic development section (although quotations from the first subject do appear fleetingly).

When the first subject returns in the original tonic, the coloring has been varied significantly, the melody now appearing in the viola, doubled in thirds below by the cello, with the violin taking over the accompaniment role original assigned to the viola. When the cello takes over the melody nine bars later, the violin provides a new, sprightly and more rhythmically distinctive countermelody marked by some off-beat sforzandi.

When the second subject returns in the original tonic of A-flat major, it offers fewer surprises, leading into the same closing/codetta section with the cadenza-like passage. As before, a diminished seventh interrupts the proceedings briefly with the dynamic levels even bolder this time around. But things soon settle down again and we are provided with a final statement of the opening subject that has the feel of a coda, reminiscing over the first theme and embellishing it lovingly.

The movement tapers off gently, but not without a few dynamic surges and last, furtive glances at the opening measure of the first subject.

Movement V—Menuetto

Moderato, E-flat major, 3/4

The second Menuetto is a slight but colorful movement, most notably because of its distinctive trio section. The melodic material is less quirky than in the first minuet and the tempo is clearly meant to be taken a bit slower. The first four beats of the movement seem like an extended anacrusis to the main melodic idea played by the violin.

Ex. 31-A

Harmonically, this is all very clear and simple, relying on tonic, dominant and a hint of subdominant. The second section, based largely on the motive from bars 2 and 3 and the descending scale pattern from bar 5, employs slightly more complex harmony but is rather repetitive. The theme from the first eight bars returns in the middle of the second section to provide the familiar rounded binary form.

But it's the trio—entitled simply "Minore"—that provides most of the interest for the movement. It features a clever little gypsy-inspired tune in the violin over a near-drone provided by viola and cello.

Ex. 31-B

The range, ornamentation and rhythm all combine to produce one of Beethoven's most picturesque early melodies, its simplicity and repetitiveness notwithstanding. The trio fades to near-silence in the final measures, not an easy thing to do cleanly with the violin near the top of its practical range.

After this colorful tune (perhaps a little less remarkable than some of Mozart's gypsy-influenced melodies but still quite effective), the repeat of the Menuetto seems a bit perfunctory, especially since there is no clever coda to round off the form as there was in movement III.

Movement IV—Finale

Allegro, E-flat major, 2/4

The Finale is, naturally, a more ambitious movement and holds a variety of attractive ideas within its rondo form. Mozart is usually seen to be Beethoven's primary model for the string trios, but this movement seems witty and playful—particularly in its use of imitative counterpoint—in a Haydnesque way.

The refrain theme gains some piquancy by hovering briefly on the seventh of a leading tone half-diminished seventh chord before resolving to tonic.

Ex. 32-A

This initial statement is followed by a series of cascading scales in the violin, sometimes doubled by the viola a third lower, after which the first eight bars are repeated.

This is followed by a long and rhythmically insistent transition that doesn't get around to modulating to the dominant for some time. Eventually the first episode arrives in B-flat major, introduced by an unaccompanied ascending line in the violin.

Ex. 32-B

The viola responses create cleverly overlapping suspension figures with the violin melody, and the viola later takes on the main melodic material, while the cello assumes the suspension figures and the violin contributes playful fragments against both of them.

After this short (four-bar) theme is finally exhausted, we hear a vigorous retransition section that borrows some of its rhythmic motives from the first transition. The refrain theme returns and then passes immediately to the second episode, a triplet-based theme that is subject to some strict imitation.

Ex. 32-C

After the entire eight-bar subject is presented with minimal accompaniment from viola and cello, it is imitated at the fifth by the viola and then by the cello at the octave. But despite what appears to be a formidable stretch of strict imitation, the mood remains fairly light, almost tongue-in-cheek, in part because of the weak-beat sforzandi that pop up starting in the fourth measure of each subsequent presentation of the theme. Eventually, we move to F minor and then E-flat major as the imitation becomes freer, focusing more and more on motives from the first four bars of the subject.

We eventually return to C minor where the first four bars of the subject remain the focus, presented unaccompanied by the viola and subsequently doubled at the octave by the violin. The final statement of the fugue subject is heard in three octaves provided by violin, viola and cello. The cadence wrapping up the entire fugal section is surprisingly quiet, as is a short retransition that takes us back to the refrain theme in the original tonic of E-flat major.

The transition that follows the return of the refrain is very close to the first transition (and features the same rhythmic insistence) but never really leaves the tonic key as it leads to the varied repeat of the second episode, the essence of which remains intact despite changes in texture and other details.

When the refrain theme returns for the last time, it is abbreviated and interrupted by a last reference to the first episode (which replaces the original cascading scale passages) in the key of A-flat major. The opening measures of the refrain return and there is a quick dash through a series of tonal centers, followed by a stout coda in which the first two bars of the refrain are bandied about. The coda turns out to be a more elaborate affair than anticipated, drawing not only on motives from the refrain, but also the transitions and a "new" theme highly reminiscent of the first episode. But it's the first two bars of the refrain that have the last word as we drive to a robust cadence.

Although not all historians have warmed up to Beethoven's Op. 3 string trio, it is, taken as a whole, quite an effective work. Some of the movements are, of course, more substantial than others (a concept built into the six-movement serenade configuration), but there are a number of attractive thematic ideas and, if the development of those ideas is not always up to the standards we associated with more mature Beethoven, those themes are cleverly arranged and balanced. And there are some interesting surprises and moments of unexpected drama and (even more striking) mysterious and/or contemplative passages that often transcend their surroundings.

If one of Beethoven's goals in writing these string trios was to prepare for the task of writing the more prestigious string quartets (a debatable point), then this trio is a success; it shows Beethoven making impressive strides in terms of writing for strings. While it is true that initial melodic statements tend to be dominated by the violin, both the viola and the cello are given important thematic material as each movement unfolds. And Beethoven's ability to generate full-bodied sonorities and a variety of textural patterns with just three instruments is indeed impressive, even in this early trio.

Serenade in D major for Violin, Viola and Cello, Op. 8

Given its description as a "serenade" and the configuration of its movements, most commentators have perceived this as a lighter-weight work, although one displaying some admirable qualities. While it's true that some movements seem a bit perfunctory—especially in respect to their sometimes rather pedestrian thematic material—others are positively captivating and well worth the listener's focused attention. Taken as a whole, the work, composed in 1796-97 and published in 1797, is quite attractive and deserving of its popularity.

Movement I—Marcia

Allegro, D major, Common time (4/4)

The Serenade opens with a short march in D major, only thirty-four bars long but confident and boisterous. The movement launches with a violin melody that, as one might suspect, is primarily triadic and replete with dotted eighth and sixteenth rhythms and eighth-note triplets.

Ex. 33

The violin melody is supported by full bodied multiple-stop sonorities in viola and particularly cello. If one of the technical goals in writing a string trio is to give the impression of a full complement of strings, then the opening measures of this march succeed admirably.

After the first four bars, which simply alternate tonic and dominant chords, a little more harmonic diversity is introduced as Beethoven briefly tonicizes the supertonic (ii), subdominant (IV) and later dominant chords in fanfare-like rhythmic figures.

The second section of the march uses many of the same rhythmic figures, but eighth-note triplets—often marked staccato— dominate the melodic activity. This section begins with a tonicization of the submediant (vi) and then the dominant before working its way back to tonic and a repeat of the opening bars of the first section, thus providing the familiar rounded binary form.

Following this, there is a little bit of a coda, a new melodic idea (still based primarily on dotted eighth and sixteenth notes) which begins quietly in D minor. It is subsequently repeated in D major as it crescendos powerfully into the final few bars, dominated once again by eighth note triplets, and the short but brisk little movement comes to a close.

Movement II

Adagio, D major, 3/4

The lovely Adagio movement begins with a highly florid violin melody floating above quiet articulations of tonic and dominant chords, the cello initially confined to pizzicato downbeats.

A series of attractive phrases ensue, perhaps the most charming of which enters at measure 13.

Ex. 34

As is often the case, the passage is quite simple harmonically, but benefits considerably from a sensitive use of accented nonharmonic tones.

The second section of the movement begins in D minor with a violin phrase somewhat related to the one quoted above, which is supported by the cello and decorated in a highly animated fashion by viola sixteenth-note arpeggios. A new phrase is introduced as the key changes to F major briefly and then back to D minor, climaxing on an augmented sixth chord. A gentle, but rhythmically distinctive two-bar phrase settles us into D major and the opening bars of the first section are reintroduced, rounding off the form. A highly florid (and highly ornamented) little coda takes us to the end of the movement with a dramatic crescendo followed by a gentle fading into pianissimo.

Movement III—Menuetto

Allegretto, D major, 3/4

The Menuetto begins with four assertive chords on tonic and dominant featuring multiple stops in all three instruments. This is followed by a quieter, gradually ascending melody in the violin starting on the third of the scale (F-sharp) and peaking a fourth higher. The first section, ending on dominant, is only six bars long. The second section, although much longer, largely parallels the first, but the opening chords reverse the process, going from dominant to tonic, whereas the melody begins on a high A and eventually works its way down to the original F-sharp. Just two measures into the second section, Beethoven insists emphatically on a secondary dominant chord—a V/V (an inverted dominant on E). This chord—at this point in the phrase—is heard very much as a disruption of the flow, an effect that Beethoven appears to revel in.

The longer second section, sixteen bars in all, also contains a new melodic fragment—a simple stepwise phrase that is heard in the violin—sometimes sequentially down a step—five times in the next eight bars. The viola soon joins in with an imitation of this simple little phrase as the new section crescendos to a close back in the tonic key.

The Trio is in G major and sports another very simple and repetitive idea that has a very picturesque "music box" quality about it. The second half begins with four mildly contrasting bars, after which the last four bars of the first section are brought back. Once again the basic idea is quite simple, but here the variety of articulations assigned to all three instruments, along with their independence of phrasing, adds greatly to the musical interest.

Following a repeat of the Menuetto section, there is a brief coda—all pizzicato—sounding very quaint in its evocation of "horn fifths," and apparently making the point that the movement's rather insubstantial melodic and harmonic material is meant to be heard more as a light-hearted fling that a serious offering.

Movement IV

Adagio—D minor, 2/4

Scherzo. Allegro molto, D major, 2/4

But the next movement seems serious indeed, almost starkly emotional after the somewhat frivolous movement that preceded it. It opens with a five-bar phrase consisting of a slowly ascending melody starting on the tonic D played in octaves by violin and viola with the cello providing Alberti bass accompaniment.

Ex. 35-A

The consequent phrase, although based initially on the same melodic idea, is somewhat elongated and considerably more florid. It tonicizes the minor dominant as it unfolds, a somewhat unusual turn of events so early in the movement. The same rhythmic figures play a role in the next passage, which moves from F major back to D minor within six bars. The Adagio section comes to a close in the original tonic key four bars later.

The Scherzo section that follows immediately comes as a bit of surprise with all of its cheerful jauntiness. It's a dapper little section (only twenty-four bars long, not counting repeats) of irrepressibly high spirits.

Ex. 35-B

Is there a dramatic point to be made from the extreme degree of contrast between the two sections? Watson likens it to a "miniature operatic scene" in which a fervent lover sings his heart out, only to be rejected again and again. It's possible that Beethoven may have had a specific story line in mind here (perhaps even his own, since his own love affairs always seemed to end badly) but it is just as likely that Beethoven was mocking his own "excess" of emotion, as he was known to do when his free-wheeling improvisations ranged dangerously close to sentimentality.

After both sections of the Scherzo are repeated and a fermata creates a break in the action, the Adagio section returns, much like the refrain of a rondo, although the theme is of course very different from the typical sort of tune heard in most rondo refrains. Once the Adagio section has again run its course, an abbreviated version of the Scherzo section returns, passing into another of those unexpectedly pensive transitions that initially appears to take us toward C major, but eventually prepares for the return of D minor and the original Adagio section. But this time the Adagio section is itself truncated, and the original violin melody sweeps even higher into the violin's upper range before eventually working its way down to the tonic in its original octave. The entire movement ends pianissimo with forlorn sounding, throbbing low D's from the cello.

Movement V

Allegretto alla Polacca, F major, 3/4

Although Beethoven did not frequently make use of the Polacca, or Polish polonaise, there are some famous examples, notably the third movement of his well-known Triple Concerto in C major, Op. 56. In this case, Beethoven embraces the style wholeheartedly and quite effectively. The form is that of a rondo with four episodes (although the first and third show some resemblance).

The refrain melody is a catchy tune, rhythmically distinctive and shapely, and propelled nicely by the assertive viola and cello accompaniment.

Ex. 36-A

The eight-bar refrain quickly gives way to the first episode in C major, eight measures long and introducing a new triplet motive, although continuing to exploit the rhythmic motive and chromatic inflections from the first bar of the refrain melody.

Ex. 36-B

After a two-measure retransition the refrain returns, somewhat embellished by grace notes, following which there is an abrupt plunge into D minor for the second episode. Although a little longer, this episode is somewhat less interesting than the previous one, essentially consisting of ascending and descending sixteenth-note scale fragments in the new key by the violin with similar off-beat patterns in the viola and staccato eighth notes in the cello.

After another brief retransition (which makes a particularly smooth key change), we are back in F major and the refrain theme reappears. We then encounter the third episode, related rhythmically to the first but with some new components, and featuring the cello in a melodic role.

The cello continues its leading role initially as the refrain returns and the off-beat rhythmic accompaniment is moved up to the violin. After four bars, the instruments revert to their more conventional roles and bring the refrain to a quick conclusion.

The final episode is the least complex but perhaps the most colorful. We are back in D minor and the violin introduces a catchy two-bar phrase high in its range that is echoed by the cello in free imitation.

Ex. 36-C

This time the retransition is extended somewhat by a pianissimo solo violin line that plays coyly with the tempo. When the final refrain recurs, it does so with an interesting new pedal for two bars in the cello that breaks into a nice countermelody against the violin. The coda that follows (at fortissimo) is full of multiple stops and high spirits, playing tantalizingly with the tempo right before driving to the final cadence.

Movement VI

Andante quasi Allegretto, D major, 2/4

This is a nifty little theme and variations that employs a pleasant if undistinguished little theme, one which displays a family resemblance to the original march tune, although its character—marked dolce throughout—is completely different.

The first phrase is focused on the D major triad, moving up to the F-sharp an octave higher before working its way back home again.

Ex. 37

The second four-bar phrase is a variant of the first, ending predictably on dominant.

The second section provides some mild contrast and a little more urgency, due in large part to the use of crescendi, decrescendi, fp accents and a well-placed struck suspension.

The first variation is fluid, graceful and conventional. The most striking new feature is the use of sixteenth-note triplets in the violin against off-beat viola sixteenths introduced in the second half of the variation.

In Variation two, the embellishing triplets have migrated to the viola, which assumes its most active role in the piece. In the second half, the viola sixteenth-note triplets take on the function of a somewhat embellished internal pedal as the violin and cello move melodically above and below it.

Variation three is characterized by a shift to D minor and almost constant syncopations (often simultaneously in all three parts). Accented secondary dominant chords also add to its unique flavor.

For variation four, back in D major, the original theme remains relatively intact, but the melody is assigned to the upper range of the cello and the accompaniment has been adjusted somewhat. The violin provides a pedal in octaves initially and later moves on to off-beat sixteenth notes.

Variation four leads directly into what is tantamount to another variation in 6/8, now marked Allegro (the first indicated tempo change). It's a frisky section of thirty-six bars, with the melody back in the violin, doubled periodically by the viola in a somewhat simplified version. Off-beat sforzando trills add to the color and excitement. Near the conclusion of the section, B-flats begin to appear in the music, a sign of things to come. Just five measures later, we encounter a surprising dominant seventh on F, reinforced with multiple stops in violin and viola. This is followed by a dramatic pause and then the return of Tempo I.

Tempo I brings with it the familiar theme that began the variations in the cello, but in the new and unexpected key of B-flat major. This turns out to be another of those unexpectedly pensive passages that show up in unusual places, even in Beethoven's early works. It moves from the key of B-flat back to D major rather ingeniously and not without some dramatic moments along the way. In fact the entire "Tempo I" section functions like a very clever little coda to the whole set of variations. The passage concludes with a pianissimo dominant chord that provides the perfect setup for the final return of the boisterous and now particularly lusty sounding, original march theme that began the entire work.

Some commentators have shrugged off Beethoven's Serenade, Op. 8 as a lightweight or experimental work. But several of the movements are quite convincing and all of them have intriguing details.

String Trios, Op. 9

Beethoven is known to have thought very highly of the Op. 9 String Trios (published in 1798) and he dedicated them to a favorite patron, Count Johann Browne-Camus, a Russian general then living in Vienna. These string trios have also been seen by historians as generally more substantive works than his earlier efforts in the genre. The thematic material is, generally speaking, more complex and the development sections within the sonata form movements more elaborate.

The independence between the parts for these new trios—and the overall virtuosity of each part—has also been a subject of commentary. As Watson points out, these were the first trios to be debuted by professional chamber musicians, a trio led by Beethoven's good friend, Ignaz Schuppanzigh.

String Trio in G major, Op. 9, No. 1

Movement I

Adagio, G major, Common time (4/4)

The first movement of the trio begins with a slow, stately, fortissimo introduction, its opening measures descending a G major triad beginning on the third of the chord. After a sixteenth-note passage that gradually works its way down to the lower tonic, the mood changes somewhat with a series of almost coquettish staccato passages based on sixteenth notes in the violin, answered by three-note arpeggio motives in viola and cello.

Ex. 38-A

The passage takes a little more serious turn with the unexpected tonicization of the supertonic (A minor) in measures 8 and 9 and an even more dramatic moment occurs a little later when another secondary dominant is introduced—a V/vi—but the chord (a B major chord) dissolves to minor before it can resolve and the introduction ends with a three-bar prolongation of the dominant.

When the first subject (part 1) arrives, it too hovers around the dominant for several measures in the form of an ornamented arpeggiation of the chord. Even when the tonic is finally reached, the first part of the first subject still seems strangely hesitant and even disjointed, alternating G major scale lines, arpeggios and large dramatic leaps of two octaves or more.

Ex. 38-B

This part of the first subject extends for eleven measures, eventually giving way to a new and more seemingly coherent melodic idea, heard first in the cello.

Ex. 38-C

This new idea—the second part of the first subject (or the second idea in the first subject "group")—is quite distinctive, most notably because of its characteristic rhythm and trill on the third beat of the second measure. The four-bar phrase is handed next to the violin, at which point the cello assumes an accompaniment pattern of staccato quarter-note arpeggios that link it to bar 5 of Ex. 38-B above.

The first subject (both parts) is followed by a neat little modulatory transition that introduces yet another new rhythmic idea.

Ex. 38-D

This transition begins to undermine the original tonic key after four measures, but it takes a full fourteen bars before coming to a cadence in the new key for the second subject.

But the new key is not quite what we expected it would be: the second subject opens in the minor dominant key and is again notable for its distinctive rhythmic identity and block chord texture as well as its constant staccato articulations.

Ex. 38-E

After its initial eight-bar presentation, the melody shifts to the viola with the cello playing mostly in thirds below it, and the violin providing a decorative countermelody, mostly chordal arpeggios connected here and there by lower neighbor figures.

The tune fades quietly to pianissimo and the closing section is introduced. This consists initially of a two-bar phrase heard first in the violin and then duplicated in turn (each time an octave lower) by the viola and cello.

Ex. 38-F

After six bars of this, a clever new idea is introduced, one that has no direct antecedent in Beethoven's early chamber music. A simple melodic phrase in the violin is repeated three times with slight variation (the lowest note in the pattern rising a step at each repetition) as the chords change below it (the viola providing a telling pedal on D).

Ex. 38-G

The result is, in the second, third and fourth measure, a series of fairly subtle but interesting dissonances, especially when accented. Just five bars later, a comparable idea is encountered, but this time the repeated motive is switched to the cello—anchored on F-sharp— with similar ideas echoed in overlapping and syncopated layers provided by viola and violin.

These rather remarkable passages are followed by a rather more mundane codetta that hurries us to the end of the exposition with its bustling sixteenth-note scale patterns.

The development begins with a slight variation of the opening bars of the first subject (Ex. 38-B) and we initially appear to be in G minor. A few measures later we have moved to the closely related key of B-flat major and a new theme is introduced, based on an ascending octave leap followed by a descending sixteenth notes.

Ex. 38-H

This new theme in the violin is accompanied by another highly distinctive figure in the cello, one characterized by the leap of a tritone and a chromatically-raised lower neighbor tone. Both of these thematic elements play a very large part in what is probably the most interesting development section to occur in the string trios to that point; the motives are developed fluidly and imaginatively throughout and with a good deal of tonal variety.

After six bars of this new theme, a familiar one returns—the second (and much more distinctive) part of the first subject (Ex. 38-C), which retains its rhythmic identity and use of trills, even though the exact intervals are not always duplicated. This theme occurs first in the cello, but it is immediately echoed in the viola (with a telling chromatic inflection) and then—after an especially clever chromatic modulation—in the violin, as the key is pulled to C minor. Here the cello repeats the theme (accompanied by full multiple stops as in the first presentation of the theme) and, as the key returns to G minor, the viola quotes the melody, echoed by an overlapping variant in the violin. The two-bar phrase continues to be developed for an additional four measures before the "new" development section motive quoted above (Ex. 38-G) returns in the key of E-flat major. This motive—or variants of it—control the action for the next several measures even as we modulate back to G minor. The second half of the first subject makes a fortissimo comeback, stated in octaves by all three instruments, only to be swept away by a new series of chromatic scale passages, also in octaves. This is followed by a pianissimo passage of staccato scale lines tossed back and forth coyly between the three instruments as the development section finally yields to the recapitulation and the return of the first subject (Ex. 38-B).

Upon its return, the first half of the first subject is somewhat altered, but the second half—presumably exhausted by its frequent appearances in the development section—does not return at all.

The distinctive minor key second subject returns in the tonic minor (modulating briefly to the relative major of that key as it did in the exposition) and the closing section and codetta both appear in the original key of G major.

The coda, however, provides a few surprises. After a dramatic fermata on the dominant, it begins by quoting the first subject once again. But this time the theme is cut short and modified to bring about a change of mode to G minor. Then, in the unlikely key of E-flat major, the second half of the second theme (Ex. 38-C), which had been missing from the recapitulation proper, once again makes it appearance and dominates the action for eight measures. After another very clever chromatic modulation back to G major, the remainder of the coda satisfies itself with a series of arpeggios and scale passages, occasionally evoking the first half of the first subject (a thematic element relatively neglected up to this point). Still, considering how imaginative the development section and initial section of the coda had been, the conclusion of the movement must be heard as a bit of a letdown.

Movement II

Adagio, ma non tanto, e cantabile; E major, 3/4

Like some other slow movements in Beethoven's early chamber music, this one combines aspects of both rondo and sonata forms. We'll talk about it initially in terms of a slow movement sonata form.

The opening four bars of the first theme flow gently in eighth-note triplets between the fifth and third of the tonic chord, with a distinct leap of a sixth on the third beat of the first measure to lend a distinctive touch.

Ex. 39-A

The ascending leap is further developed in the next four bars, leaps of a fifth replacing the earlier sixth.

Ex. 39-B

By measure 9, the melody is handed to the viola, but violin and viola share the main melodic interest as we move on to the modulatory transition, which is distinguished by some particularly compelling accented dissonances.

We arrive at the new key of B major after only six measures, and the second subject itself is brief—only four bars in length. It begins pianissimo with a descending scalewise figure followed by a series of ascending flourishes.

Ex. 39-C

Following this is a longer section of sixteen bars that fulfills the function of a closing section (and is repeated, along with the first and second subjects, in the second half of the movement). It is not particularly distinctive melodically, relying on swirling chromatic passages that are sequenced repeatedly without ever really leaving the key of B major behind. On the other hand, its frequent use of diminished seventh chords and swelling crescendi and sforzandi suggest the sort of dramatic intensity more frequently associated with a development section than a closing section. And, near the end of the section, there is one particularly colorful chromatic progression that we encounter just before our return to the original E major tonic. (See Ex. 39-D.)

Starting with a dominant seventh in the key of B, the cello moves up by half steps to create first an inverted C# diminished chord, followed (after the suspended and trilled C-sharp resolves down) by a V6/5 of IV—an inverted secondary dominant chord heading toward A major, the subdominant in the key of E (our ultimate goal). We arrive at the A major chord on the downbeat of the third measure of the passage, but the cello moves up a semitone again, this time resulting in an A-sharp diminished chord—a vii diminished of V in E major. The A-sharp in the cello continues up to B but the violin, and especially the viola, cloud the issue with repeated nonharmonic tones. This harmonic ambiguity finally begins to clear up on the downbeat of the fourth measure of the passage as the parts align on an Italian sixth chord in the key of E major that finally resolves to a clear-cut dominant, followed by a tonic back home in the original key.

Ex. 39-D

After this, the return of the first theme in a sort of recapitulation seems almost anti-climactic. But this "recapitulation" does have its quirks. After the first subject is restated in the original tonic of E major, it is followed by a transitional passage, much as it was in the exposition. But the transition does not take us to the second subject, but rather to a new section that can only be described as an "episode." This ten-measure episode, which pops up rather abruptly in the key of G major, bears very little resemblance to any of the main themes heard to this point and, in fact, is barely "thematic" at all, consisting mostly of undulating sixteenth-note passages in the cello accompanied minimally by violin and cello. (See Ex. 39-E.) It soon winds its way into E minor and—after a prolonged dominant seventh on B—eventually introduces the second theme in E major, the "normal" key for a recapitulation. The second theme proceeds much as it did in the exposition, even retaining the same chromatic progression. But this time its destination is different: it merges into a coda, one that makes a series of brief references to the first subject before heading to a quiet close.

Ex. 39-E

Although it is best not to expect too much regularity in slow movement sonata forms, this movement is a particularly quirky one, with its unexpected "episode" in an equally unexpected key interrupting the otherwise orthodox recapitulation of the first and second themes. Why this rather peculiar "interruption" of an otherwise predictable musical flow? It's difficult to say of course, but it seems clear that Beethoven felt that the contrast between the first and second theme was not quite strong enough to allow for a simple, undisturbed recapitulation of the two of them.

Movement III—Scherzo

Allegro, G major, 3/4

This is a short but clever Scherzo that toys briefly with sentimentality but, on the whole, succeeds in being brisk and invigorating, an excellent transition between the relatively subdued slow movement and the perky finale to come.

The opening period, consisting of two four-bar phrases, is quite simple, both melodically and harmonically, although a hint of wistfulness is heard almost immediately as a "sensitive" inverted vii diminished chord substitutes for the brasher dominant seventh on the first downbeat.

Ex. 40-A

The overall ascending shape of the first phrase is balanced by a second, ending on dominant, that trends downward after an initial leap of a major sixth.

Ex. 40-B

The second part of the initial Scherzo section is, as usual, quite a bit longer than the first. It begins by playing with the opening motive in the cello and viola, directing it first toward A minor and then C major. Meanwhile, the violin occupies itself by filling in the rhythmic pauses with chromatically inflected flourishes.

By the fifth measure, all three have joined forces to present a particularly effective harmonic passage that begins with some poignant suspensions and ends by tearing through six chords in the circle of fifths within the space of six beats as the melody collapses by half steps.

Ex. 40-C

After this chromatic burst, we hear a repeated two-measure tag referring back to the initial motive in viola and cello. Following this, a variant of the first period of the movement is heard. The general shape is retained, but much of the second phrase is presented a third lower than in the original and re-harmonized to stay in G major. The second section of the Scherzo then closes with another varied repeat of the first four bars, the melody up an octave in the violin and the initial rhythmic motive echoed in the viola and cello.

The (unmarked) trio comes next, forty-seven bars in length and divided into two sections like the Scherzo. The key has shifted to C major and the three parts move largely in parallel motion. (See Ex. 40-D.) The ascending major sixth that played an important role in the second phrase of the Scherzo plays its part here as well, although here it is followed by another ascending third.

After the new theme is presented in C major, it is immediately stated up a step and then up a third, suggesting a temporary move to F major, although the melody soon winds its way safely back to C major.

Ex. 40-D

But Beethoven is not through with his little tune. It is shifted next to A minor, the last two bars repeated twice and followed by a pregnant pause of almost two full bars. But the pause only gives a little space in which to absorb the next phrase modulation, as the melody is then stated in E minor and, after the same pause, in G major. Beethoven is being wonderfully economical here, but it's doubtful that the listener would put up with yet another restatement of the same four bars in a new key, so the composer wisely brings the section to a close on D major to prepare us for the return of the Scherzo and the original tonic of G major.

The Scherzo is fully written out, allowing Beethoven to add some colorful embellishments and allow for some new motivic echoes from the cello.

This is by no means Beethoven's most ambitious Scherzo, but it has some significant charms and fulfills its primary function admirably.

Movement IV

Presto, G major, Alla breve

This is a spirited sonata-form movement with the first subject divided into two distinct parts. The first—although quite busy—is somewhat generic in its reliance on triadic arpeggios and scale lines.

Ex. 41-A

The theme is thinly scored, initially only a violin-viola duet with the viola later doubling the cello up an octave.

The second part—while short and simple—is quite a bit "catchier" and more distinctive.

Ex. 41-B

The first four-bar phrase is then played by the violin an octave higher, doubled at the original octave by the viola against broken chord patterns in the cello for harmonic support. After a total of sixteen bars (both parts of the first subject), we are launched into the modulatory transition.

Ex. 41-C

It is a particularly active one harmonically, moving to the key of the dominant quickly and repeatedly embellishing it with its own dominant. Six measures into the transition, its most memorable thematic idea is introduced:

Ex. 41-D

This new motive—obviously of more interest rhythmically than melodically—dominates the next several measures, although it is interrupted once for a rapid turn through the circle of fifths, complete with off-beat sforzandi.

The modulatory transition concludes in the key of the dominant (D major) as one might suspect. But what comes next is unexpected. The second subject appears not in D major but, for all intents and purposes, in B-flat major:

Ex. 41-E

The harmonic rhythm slows down dramatically here, allowing the ear to luxuriate in this exotic new key relationship, while the melody unwinds in a long arch shape. After five bars, the F natural within the B-flat major chord is raised a half step to F sharp and the key is instantly transformed to D major, the "normal" key for the second subject, and the seven-bar theme concludes there.

The closing section is quite a bit more orthodox than the second subject; it staunchly reiterates the tonality of D major in a series of broken-chord figures in which the violin is doubled at the third or sixth by the viola.

Ex. 41-F

The closing section becomes increasingly rich with secondary dominants and other color chords but, by the time we arrive at the first ending leading to the repeat of the exposition, we are firmly entrenched on the D major chord that will soon be heard as the dominant propelling us back to G major and the opening measures of the exposition.

The second ending, which takes us to the development section, wastes no time in plunging us right back into B-flat major, the unexpected key for the second subject. But we don't stay there for very long; even before Beethoven begins to play with the first two bars of the first subject (always accompanied by the original chromatic bass line), we have moved to E-flat major. When the two-bar quotation does make an appearance, it is heard alternately in the violin and viola, usually in a two-part texture comparable to that heard originally in the first subject. The two-bar fragment is heard (in original or varied form) six times in twelve bars—sometimes in E-flat, sometimes in B-flat, and finally in G minor.

At that point, the first half of the first subject (Ex. 41-A) drops out of the picture and is replaced by the second half of the first subject (Ex. 41-B), which is quoted by the violin in G minor over an internal pedal on the dominant in the viola. After four bars, the key shifts to C minor and the melody passes to the viola while the dominant pedal switches to the cello. Four bars later, the key the changes again, this time to A-flat major as the melody is heard high in the cellist's range and the violin picks up the pedal tone, rendering it in an attractively embellished fashion.

At that point, the four-bar phrase has been repeated three times in various keys. But it's not done yet. As the phrase moves back up to the violin (harmonized in sixths by the viola), the cello adds a new motivic element—a descending arpeggiation of a dominant flat ninth chord (Gb-Eb-C-A natural-F) that resolves to tonic in the key of B-flat. This new motive, which appears also in the violin on two occasions, accompanies Beethoven's references to the theme from Ex. 41-B whenever they occur. After moving swiftly through the keys of A-flat, G minor, and F, the references to the second half of the first subject come to an end, although the descending arpeggiation of the dominant ninth continues a little longer.

Eventually, we come to a new section marked by sforzando half-note chords and a surprising modulation to E minor. All three parts converge fortissimo on the dominant in E minor and, for a few seconds, it appears as if the development section is reaching its triumphant climax. But instead the dynamic level retreats abruptly to pianissimo and we arrive at a somewhat mysterious series of half-note chords that outline minor and diminished triads and major seventh chords.

Ex. 41-F

The momentum picks up a bit as across-the-bar suspensions in violin and viola are introduced, hinting at a number of shorter tonal excursions that never really see their destination confirmed. But finally G minor begins to hold sway and, at the last minute, G major is arrived at, just in time for the recapitulation.

The first subject enters quietly and, initially, everything proceeds in a conventional fashion. The transition to the second subject, glutted with off-beat sforzandi, is energetic enough. It relies primarily on the motive shown in Ex. 41-D and briefly "fakes" a couple of modulations before finally arriving securely in the tonic key. But the second subject—that had originally occurred in the unexpected key of B-flat major—now comes back in the equally unexpected key of E-flat major, which has the virtue of being a fifth lower than the original key so that at least the typical recapitulation key logic remains intact.

Once again, the unexpected key is eventually explained away as the seventh measure of the theme maneuvers it back to the key of G. But, just as in the exposition, the effect has been made and no last-minute sleight of hand can change it; we hear the theme coming back in a remote key just as we initially heard it presented in a remote key. The last minute switch back to the "normal" key—D major in the exposition and G major in the recapitulation—allows Beethoven to satisfy, at least to some extent, the recapitulation's traditional need to balance the tonal instability of the development section with the tonal stability of the recapitulation (and its insistence on the tonic chord) while still allowing us to enjoy the element of surprise.

The closing section returns with a bit more dynamic vigor than in the exposition and there is a fairly short coda in which the first violin brings back the first part of the first section in augmentation—quarter notes initially replacing the original eighth notes—over eighth notes in the viola and a long dominant pedal in the cello. In the closing bars of the movement, the cello breaks free from its stagnant role long enough to join in with the pulsating eighths, now in both viola and violin, and bring the movement to a rousing conclusion.

String Trio in D major, Op. 9, No. 2

Movement I

Allegretto, D major, 2/4

The first movement begins with an attractive theme that starts with an ascending major sixth leap and continues to ascend, reaching two octaves higher than the starting point, even as the melody temporarily drops down to other chord tones along the way. Upon reaching its goal, the melody descends for an octave in a chromatically-inflected line.

Ex. 42-A

This initial eight-bar period is followed by a sequential repetition (up a step) that is modified to close on the dominant chord.

The modulatory transition, which is based on the last motive from the second period, follows immediately.

Ex. 42-B

Just six bars into the transition, an even more important motive appears, one that is to play a prominent role in both the closing section and the development section. Basically no more than a thirty-second note flourish ornamenting a staccato eighth note, this figure energizes the rhythmic flow and provides the first strong dynamic contrast in the movement.

Ex. 42-C

The transition moves briefly to A minor before making its way to the "normal" second subject key of A major. Beethoven takes an unusual amount of time setting up the new key, reiterating its dominant seventh rather violently for several measures before "feinting" briefly to B minor.

When the second subject finally arrives in A major, it launches on the dominant chord over a dominant pedal in the cello and quickly assumes a chord progression that alternates V and I (with the suggestion of an occasional IV). (See Ex. 42-D.)

It's an impressive second theme, more warmly lyrical than the first (not an unusual situation) but it provides a bit more rhythmic punch as it unfolds, its varied repetition eventually introducing syncopations and off-beat sforzandi not heard in the first eight bars.

Ex. 42-D

The cello pedal on E finally gives way to a Neapolitan sixth chord that eventually resolves to the dominant, followed by a IV-V-I cadence in A major.

The closing section follows, employing the already familiar motive from Ex. 42-C in the cello along with Alberti bass patterns in the viola and reiterations of the tonic in violin. After just four measures, the violin and cello reverse roles and the viola soon begins to echo the cello with its repetition of the thirty-second note motive.

After a total of sixteen bars, the closing section cadences and a brief codetta is presented, beginning with a new idea in the viola.

Ex. 42-E

This new phrase is passed first to the cello and later the violin and the exposition comes to a quiet close.

The development section begins with a pianissimo quote of the first subject, first in D minor and then in G minor. But it is the thirty-second note flourish first heard in the modulatory transition (Ex. 42-C) that dominates the next several measures, pounding F major into our ear mostly by reiterating its dominant seventh chord at high volume.

When we finally resolve all of this tension with a root position tonic in F major, a variant of the first theme appears quietly against a new triplet motive in the cello (and later viola). An inversion of the ascending scale motive from the first subject (bars 3-4 of Ex. 42-A) is also heard, alternating with the eighth-note triplets. The first four bars of the first theme are then heard again, first in G minor and, later, up a step in A minor, as the inverted motive and triplets continue to play out against it. We finally end up in B minor where the action temporarily comes to a halt after a series of robust sforzandi.

It is at this point that the second subject is introduced quietly, the melody in the violin harmonized in tenths by the cello with the distinctive repeating pedal in the viola. When the key shifts to E minor, the melody moves to the viola, the pedal to the cello and the violin assumes an ornamental sixteenth-note countermelody not found in the exposition. At this point we hear a pair of long crescendo swells followed by shorter decrescendi and, as we move to A minor and the cello takes over the melody, the development section begins to draw to a close, escorted to the end by some final quotations from the second subject.

The recapitulation is somewhat disguised, the cello sustaining a pedal-like high A (the dominant, now that we're back home in the original tonic of D major), with the melody returning in a cleverly modified and syncopated version shared by violin and cello. As the recapitulation continues, the first theme is further modified, to the point that it becomes almost an "abstraction" of the original. Nevertheless, the same motive (Ex. 42-B) signals the beginning of the transition, which is itself somewhat modified by even more motivic interplay based on the thirty-second note flourish first heard in Ex. 42-C.

As usual, the lengthy transition is cleverly manipulated so as to not modulate to the key of the dominant, and so the second theme returns in the tonic of D major. Here its texture has been transformed slightly from its original appearance with the viola and cello switching parts. But in other respects the recapitulation of the second theme is true to the original version, even passing into the parallel minor key after eight bars.

The closing section and codetta follow according to form with the latter blending into a coda of twenty-four bars that takes several backward glances at bars 3 and 4 of the first subject (and their inversion) before closing assertively on the tonic.

Movement II

Andante quasi Allegretto, D minor, 6/8

This is a movement of great lyrical charm. Watson has suggested that some of the themes may reflect the influence of Beethoven's study with Salieri and in fact at least two of them sound as "Italianate" as any melodies Beethoven ever committed to paper.

The first theme we encounter, however, is fairly neutral in connotation, although its distinctive rhythmic elements play a role throughout the movement, even occurring within accompaniment patterns. The melody begins by arpeggiating (hesitantly) up the tonic and vii diminished triads, followed by a quick descent down an octave. The accompaniment is initially in block chords, but by measure 3, the violin begins to show more independent activity.

Ex. 43-A

These first four bars move quickly to the relative major of F major. The next four are an artfully varied repetition of the first four and are even more active harmonically, moving from G minor back to d minor after a deceptive-cadence delaying action.

Ex. 43-B

After an ornamented repeat of the last two bars, another distinctive theme is introduced. Only four bars long and accompanied in the cello by the same rhythmic pattern that characterizes the opening bars of the first theme, it is quite simple harmonically, alternating back and forth between tonic and dominant in D minor. Melodically, it begins with a two-bar elaboration of the fifth of the scale before soaring up a minor sixth to F, from which point it makes a decorative descent to the leading tone in the key (C-sharp).

Ex. 43-C

This lovely little theme is as short-lived as it is memorable. It is soon replaced by a swirling, sixteenth-note arpeggio on D minor and a passage that makes its way to C major. Under normal circumstances (for either the second subject of a sonata form or the first episode in a rondo), this might well suggest that F major (the relative major of D minor) is the next tonal goal. But in fact the next theme arrives in A minor, the minor dominant of the original tonic. This is by no means unheard of, but it is a bit rare by the end of the eighteenth century. The new theme, when it arrives in the cello, has a particularly emotional quality about it because of its deceptive cadence in the second measure and prominent nonharmonic tones in the third and fourth.

Ex. 43-D

The rhythmic figures from the opening measures of the movement again make an appearance, this time pizzicato in the violin, while the viola continues to provide the same sixteenth-note arpeggios heard first in the transition theme quoted above (Ex. 43-C).

A sequential variant of this four measure phrase—even more beautifully shaped than the first—follows immediately. Its harmonic goal is D minor but it follows a wonderfully circuitous route to get there, giving an advance glimpse, once again, of the rhythm and texture of the opening bars. Does this section fill the role of a retransition back to the refrain theme in a rondo? It seems to, at least initially, because a few measures later the opening measures of the first theme (Ex. 43-A) reappear in the original tonic key of D minor. But the theme is cut off after four bars, and measures 3 and 4 are repeated sequentially, bringing about brief modulations to G minor and B-flat major.

Once securely entrenched in B-flat major, a "new" theme appears. It clearly derives from Ex. 43-D in its initial shape and the stuttering eighth note accompaniment (now pizzicato in the cello) from the first two bars. But there is a very different "feel" to this melody, not the least because it occurs in a major key and the first sustained note is on the third of the tonic chord rather than the fifth. And it proceeds in even more expansive fashion than the melody from Ex. 43-D, linking together two beautifully developed phrases (the first one of which is shown below).

Ex. 43-E

This gives way to a restatement of the theme from 43-D (tentatively identified as the first episode in a rondo form) in G minor. Immediately following is another variant of the theme, now back in D minor, followed by a transitional passage that yet again calls on the hesitating eighth-note rhythm of the opening measures of the movement.

Finally, and for the last time, the opening (or "refrain") theme returns in D minor, but it is again altered, this time by the elimination of the third and fourth bars.

This is followed by a coda that introduces some new elements, most notably descending eighth-note arpeggios played in unison and octaves by all three instruments. We still hear a snatch of the opening eighth-note rhythms at one point, and Beethoven allows a variation of the transitional theme (Ex. 43-C) to take a brief bow before the movement comes to a quiet conclusion.

Although this may not be the most formally orthodox of slow movements, it is unquestionably a successful one, if for no other reasons than the effectiveness of its emotionally-laden themes and the effortlessness with which it integrates the initial rhythmic motive with the other important melodic ideas within the movement.

Movement III—Menuetto

Allegro, D major, 3/4

The minuet for the second trio of the set may not be the most remarkable, but it provides a very effective contrast with the slow movement and has some intriguing features of its own.

The opening melody begins with a dramatic gesture—an ascending leap of a fifth, compounded by an octave-leaping grace note that adorns the second note. This is followed immediately by a descending scale and then an arpeggiation of the tonic D major triad, after which another descending line leads to a tonicization of the dominant chord.

Ex. 44-E

The next four bars present a sequential variant of the first four and the final four bars begin with broken thirds then descend in a pattern relying heavily on lower neighbors resolving to tonic chord tones.

Ex. 44-B

After a double bar and repeat, the second section of the minuet hovers around B, repeatedly tonicizing the submediant (B minor).

Ex. 44-C

A four-bar solo passage for the violin (marked by some striking sforzandi)

prolongs the dominant of A major in preparation for the return of that key, which is celebrated with a new idea, one that starts with an arpeggiation of the tonic but then slides into a descending chromatic passage with some clever across-the-bar syncopations.

Ex. 44-D

Eventually the first eight measures of the movement are reintroduced, providing the familiar rounded binary form. After a sequential extension of the last two bars, a little "tail" is tagged on and the first section of the minuet comes to a close.

While the second half of the Menuetto had closed on a crescendo, the first half of the (unmarked) trio begins much more quietly and with considerably sparser scoring in the key of B minor.

Ex. 44-E

When the viola and cello do enter, they merely double the violin in octaves. After eight bars, the texture swells up considerably with the viola, along with multiple stops in the violin, providing full chordal support as the cello assumes the melody in the key of D major.

The second half of the trio begins as austerely as the first half, with the violin now outlining a D-sharp diminished chord that ultimately resolves to E minor. But this time the viola and cello join in, not with octaves, but with a fragment of imitation at two-measure intervals. But again the texture blossoms out after the first eight bars, with both violin and viola engaging in double stops as the cello takes the melody, outlining an A-sharp diminished chord that ultimately resolves to B minor.

The opening measures of the section are then repeated (outlining the D-sharp diminished triad once again) but this time the imitative entries come more quickly, although the ultimate tonal goal is again E minor.

For the final bars of the trio, the cello once again outlines an A-sharp diminished chord, but this time the A# eventually drops a half step to A natural and the section closes on a dominant seventh on A to prepare for the repeat of the Menuetto section in the original tonic of D major.

While this is by no means an extraordinary movement, the varieties of texture it provides gives it something of a distinctive quality.

Movement IV—Rondo

Allegro, D major, Alla breve

The rondo refrain begins with a simple but catchy little two-bar phrase high in the cello range with the accompaniment of a dominant pedal in the violin and a series of off-beat sforzandi in the viola. The two-bar phrase is immediately repeated, after which the cello takes off with a gradually ascending motive (which has something of an independent life later in the movement), imitated briefly by the viola.

Ex. 45-A

The entire eight bars repeat, with the melody migrating to the violin and the cello assuming a pedal on the tonic. Following this, a contrasting section of eight bars is introduced, one that begins with an emphatic leap of a perfect fourth in the cello and continues on with a striking repeated-note motive in the violin. (See Ex. 45-B.)

The initial eight-bar section returns (with the melody now in the violin and the dominant pedal in the viola), giving the entire refrain a typical a-a-b-a' form.

Ex. 45-B

The sixteen-bar transition following the refrain is a straightforward affair, consisting mostly of staccato eighth-note scale lines. The B section, in A major, is unremarkable rhythmically, but notable for its frequent leaps (ascending and descending) of a sixth.

Ex. 45-C

The retransition back to the refrain is perhaps more distinctive, with its dotted rhythms and snatches of imitation between viola and violin.

Ex. 45-D

The retransition makes its way back to the refrain (the A section) after twenty-seven bars, including the last several that sit on (or close by) the dominant in an extensive preparation for the climactic return to the original tonic.

When the refrain returns, it is virtually identical to its initial appearance. But, for the last appearance of the a' section (in the overall a-a-b-a' form that makes up the refrain), the key changes to D minor and we are plunged (after a couple of measures) into a new section—a "C" section that serves as the development section for the movement, niftily exploiting the motive found in the first 2 bars (see Ex. 45-A) and moving quickly to the key of B-flat major. As the key moves toward G minor and beyond, it is the intervallic pattern from bar 3 of the refrain that gets the most play, tossed blithely from one instrument to the other. Eventually a new motive based on the syncopated sforzandi first heard in the viola in the open measures of the movement takes over, as the dynamic level peaks at fortissimo and the key begins its inexorable march toward D and the return of the refrain.

But first a new retransition section is heard, one that is surprisingly passive in its reliance on simple triadic arpeggios in unrelieved quarter notes over a dominant pedal. Although this passage is also marked by some occasional weak-beat sforzandi, the general impression is that of the stilling of the waters and a reduction in intensity. But even here there is a long sustained crescendo leading up to a brief cadenza-like flourish before we return again to the refrain.

This time, the refrain is presented in full, and the transition that follows it is virtually identical to the first transition, although this one ends up back on the tonic of A major rather than the dominant.

Staying in D major, we eventually arrive at "B'", once again virtually identical to the original (except for the change in key). The retransition that follows, however, is not a simple restatement of the first episode; instead, it is expanded and modified, moving into the key of B-flat major and engaging in a brief development of the opening measures of the movement just as the "C" section had done.

Not surprisingly, the final recurrence of the refrain melody is truncated; the contrasting middle section is omitted and the movement drives to a robust conclusion on a passage of eighth notes that resembles one of the key motives in the first transition, aided and abetted by the syncopated sforzandi from the refrain theme's accompaniment pattern.

This may not be one of Beethoven's most striking rondo finales, but it is a rich one, full of diverse ideas and—not usually customary in a rondo—some impressive developmental sections.

String Trio in C minor, Op. 9, No. 3

Given Beethoven's reputation for creating powerful and dramatic works in the key of C minor, one might well expect his string trio in that key to be one of his most remarkable early chamber works. And, for the most part, this work lives up to those expectations.

Movement I

Allegro con spirito, E-flat major, 6/8

The first movement begins with a powerful, even menacing motive consisting of two descending half-steps separated by a descending augmented second, presented in unison and octaves in all three instruments. This is followed immediately by more conventional figures based on ascending arpeggios of dominant and tonic triads in eighth-note triplets and sixteenth-note scale patterns.

Ex. 46-A

Measures 4 (second half) and 5 simply repeat measures 3 and 4 up an octave, and the last two bars of the entire ten-bar statement are a repeat of measures 7and 8 with the primary melody transferred to the viola.

The modulatory transition begins in standard fashion with the restatement of the opening bars of the movement followed by a series of undulating sixteenth-note scale passages that ultimately make their way to some syncopated sf accents and a clever modulation to the relative major key of E-flat, in which a G— heard as the root of a dominant chord in C minor— is reinterpreted as the third of the tonic chord in E-flat major.

Repeated notes play an important role in the second subject. This is not an unfamiliar type of melody for Beethoven; among the most famous examples of this type are the first movement of the "Moonlight" Sonata in C-sharp minor, Op. 31, No. 2, and the slow movement of the Symphony No. 7 in A major. As in those more famous examples, the repeated note here represents the fifth of the chord (although the underlying chord in this case is the subdominant rather than the tonic).

Ex. 46-B

The theme is simple but very effective, a particularly piquant touch coming in the fifth measure as the melody moves up to G-flat. This chromatic inflection is harmonized by a diminished chord on the raised second scale degree, a color chord just beginning to gain currency in the late stages of the eighteenth century. The sixteenth-note pulsations in the viola (and later the cello) impart a hint of urgency to what is otherwise a calm, almost placid melody, and the cello off-beat contributions supply a bit of melodic movement against the mostly static violin part.

After an initial six-bar statement, the melody is assumed by the viola as the cello takes over the pulsating sixteenths and the violin adds a new countermelody, a rather frenetic series of lower neighbor figures separated by descending thirds. After only four measures of this, the melody moves to the cello and the key changes to E-flat minor, imparting a hint of the tragic to what has been a fairly even emotional keel to that point. The general level of activity increases in the next few measures and brings us quickly to the closing section.

The closing section, the theme of which begins in the violin but features imitative entries in the viola and cello as well, is distinctive for its characteristic articulations as well as the sinuous countermelody that occurs in the violin after a couple of measures.

Ex. 46-C

After the imitation has worked its way through the texture, a series of heavily accented syncopated chords accompanied by a chromatically descending bass line intervenes, tailing off to an ornate descending passage for solo violin. This is followed by a clever little two-bar passage notable for the rhythmic interplay between its parts. It's really little more than a nifty cadential preparation, but it has a role to play in the development section to come.

Ex. 46-D

Immediately after this, we hear another series of syncopated chords over a chromatically descending bass line, but this time the idea is carried even further and with more extraordinary results. (See Ex, 46-E.)

The harmonic progression that results from this chromatic interplay eventually includes a full-diminished seventh chord that never resolves "functionally" (in bar 3) and a dominant seventh chord that similarly refuses to resolve in a conventional manner. The progression seems briefly to be heading toward the key of D minor (a very unusual turn of events given our starting point in E-flat major), but it's a false alarm and the D minor triad that seems to be the goal of the two previous chords is transformed into a dominant seventh chord on Bb and we start working our way back to the key of E-flat.

Ex. 46-E

This wonderful chromatic progression serves to introduce a simpler but nevertheless wistful little codetta section, which gains considerable poignance from the introduction of the C-flat in the second measure.

Ex. 46-F

This passage yields to one that is a bit more rhythmically vigorous, after which the exposition closes quietly.

The development section, on the other hand, begins quite aggressively with bold assertions of the motive that opened the movement (Ex. 46-A), this time harmonized to imply the key of F minor. This is interrupted immediately by the recurrence of the rhythmically interesting closing section motive from Ex. 46-D (introduced by the same solo violin passage). From there we move immediately to the chief motive from the codetta (Ex. 46-F), that dominates for the next several measures as we modulate to the key of C minor. Dynamic levels fluctuate quickly and frequently, and the rhythmic accompaniment becomes livelier and more syncopated as the motive moves from the violin to the cello and then back to the violin over the course of nine bars.

The excitement peaks, however, not so much as the result of Beethoven's manipulation of either the closing section or codetta motives, but as the result of heavily punctuated syncopated chords (employing multiple stops in both violin and viola) as we make our way to the key of G minor.

But upon arriving in G minor, things get eerily quiet as the opening half-step motive of the movement is introduced pianissimo. Eventually the ominous quality fades as we find ourselves in G major (soon to be heard as the dominant in the original tonic of C minor). From there to the end of the development section, we are treated to a new (or somewhat new) idea, a sinuous pattern of chromatically-inflected sixteenth notes in the violin, punctuated here and there by multiple-stop chords in the viola and cello.

The recapitulation enters in something of a disguise, escorted by the sinuous scale fragments from the end of the development section. The opening motive returns in a somewhat more bombastic style—forte passing immediately to fortissimo. But, from that point on, things proceed as might be expected in a recapitulation, at least until we get to the second subject. As we've noted in some other minor key movements, Beethoven is not particularly shy about bringing the second subject back in something other than the expected minor tonic key. In this case, the second subject returns in the key of A-flat major (down a major third from C minor), whereas the second subject had originally occurred in the "normal" relative major key of E-flat major in the exposition. But after the melody has been handed off from the violin to the cello, the key pivots cleverly to C minor (an F-sharp is added to an A-flat tonic chord, transforming it into an augmented sixth chord that resolves to the dominant of C minor).

The closing section starts on G as it did in the exposition, but it's cleverly reharmonized so as to wind its way through a couple of other tonalities before ending up back in C minor. The codetta is also heard in C minor, which seriously alters its character, but not unpleasantly so.

Following the recapitulation of the codetta and a double bar and repeat (which would almost never be taken in a modern performance), there is a separate and distinct coda. Unfortunately, it is not a particularly remarkable one, and perhaps a bit of a disappointment after such a dramatic and surprise-filled development and a cleverly constructed recapitulation. The coda basically consists of a sequential treatment of the original half-step motive from the opening measures of the movement, although Beethoven never departs from C minor for any length of time. The pulsating sixteenth notes from the second subject are much in evidence here, although the effect is much more restless and agitated, at least in part because the key is now C minor, distorted from time to time because of passing chromaticism in the lower voices.

The triadic motive from the first subject (heard in the viola) also plays a surprisingly large role in the coda, as it is played off against sixteenth-note scale fragments in the violin. The movement ends rather noisily, all instruments in multiple stops for a thunderous close.

Although the opening movements for all of the Op. 9 string trios have been impressive, there is no question that this one is by far the most compelling.

Movement II

Adagio con espressione, C major, Common time (4/4)

The first subject of this slow movement sonata form, although quite attractive, seems initially to be somewhat archaic in style, ascending innocently from the third scale degree to the sixth before dropping a fifth. But slow moving as the theme may be, it never lags, due in part to some well-chosen secondary dominant chords that seem to urge it on at strategically important points.

The theme's distinctive articulation (especially the staccato sixteenth notes) is also noteworthy and plays an important part later in the movement.

But it's not just the main melodic idea presented by the violin in the first two bars that has significance; the cello's primary role is initially to provide a descending counterpoint to the ascending violin melody, but it also introduces an important motive of its own in the second measure—a dotted rhythm, ascending triadic figure. A variant of this figure appears just a bar later in the violin melody and becomes the second most important motive in the first subject. (See Ex. 47-A.)

In the fifth measure, the theme veers into C minor, but the visit is short-lived, the C minor chord basically serving as a pivot to an A-flat chord, which itself becomes transformed into an augmented sixth chord that in turn takes us right back to the dominant on G major.

After six bars, the original melodic idea is further developed, the melody now ascending by step from the tonic rather than the third of the chord. In the measures that follow, the cello/violin motive of bars 2 and 3 also returns in varied form to prepare a final cadence on C major.

Ex. 47-A

The modulatory transition is one of the simplest to be found among the string trios: it is no more than a four-bar progression of I-vi-V/V-V over which the violin contributes ascending thirty-second note flourishes mixing half steps, whole steps and augmented seconds.

The second subject in G major begins with a distinctly new idea in the violin, combining dotted eighths, sixteenths and sixteenth-note triplets in a primarily descending flow.

The violin's motive is imitated a half measure later by the viola while the cello engages in Alberti-bass like staccato sixteenth notes throughout. The first two measures are then given an embellished repetition and another important idea is introduced: a series of eighth notes in a pattern of descending and ascending sixths followed by chromatic half-steps.

This last motive is enlivened by off-beat sforzandi and the final crescendo gives the whole passage a strong sense of momentum. (See Ex. 47-B)

The second subject comes to a close after eight measures and a rather abrupt phrase modulation to E-flat major.

Thematically speaking, the development section is dominated by fragments from the first theme (primarily from the first measure) and snatches of imitation between violin and viola. This plays itself out over staccato sixteenths notes in the cello that at times provide an Alberti bass accompaniment and at times seems to suggest its own contrapuntal line, one energized periodically by sf accents duplicated in the other parts.

Ex. 47-B

After just a couple of measures, a new idea is introduced in the violin, another rhythmically distinctive motive, this time circulating around the repeated tonic tone.

Ex. 47-C

This is accompanied—and in fact slightly anticipated— by a new and particularly tenacious repeated motive in the viola that exploits a similar pattern. Tonal centers in the development fluctuate between C minor and F minor with the original tonic of E-flat occasionally reasserted. Several dynamic fluctuations add to the intensely dramatic mood along with some sharp leaps to dissonance in the violin and viola. Slow movement development sections are seldom so dramatic or strident as this one, especially in a movement that began with such a gentle and even aristocratic tone.

The recapitulation doesn't present any major surprises. The first theme returns in the original tonic of C major and, after the dramatic development section, seems even more innocent than before. After a truncated version of the first subject (only four measures in length), the second theme comes back in tonic as well, complete with its bit of imitation between violin and viola. As the second main motive of this subject (the descending sixths paired with an ascending half-step) is expanded in the cello, a rhythmically distinctive new motive is introduced in the viola and viola, distinctive for its initial staccato thirty-second notes. After this brief interruption, the second subject carries on as before, leading to a short (eight-measure) coda.

The coda gives us one last look at the opening motive of the movement, and particularly the staccato bass line that accompanied it, against which the violin floats a lovely solo line. Right before the final cadence, a full-diminished seventh chord (borrowed from C minor) reminds us that, as pleasant as the movement has been, darker undertones have never been far from the surface.

Movement III—Scherzo

Allegro molto e vivace, C minor, 6/8

The theme for this intriguing little Scherzo stays reasonably close to the C minor tonic triad as it bounces along in 6/8 at a healthy clip.

Ex. 48-A

A passing A natural in the third measure hints that a modulation is forthcoming and a B-flat chord transports us quickly to E-flat major by the fifth measure, where the melody is replicated up a third. By measure eight we have moved to G minor, where a motive derived from the first four notes of the melody begins to be bandied about in viola and violin (occasionally in inversion) as the cello takes on a more active rhythmic role. Bars 8-12 function as a transition back to C minor and the first thirteen measures are repeated almost intact.

The second part of the Scherzo begins with a melody that is somewhat less compelling but displays a strong character nevertheless: cello and violin play chords on the strong beats while the viola pounds away on accented dissonant minor ninths in combination with a descending three-note sixteenth-note pattern derived from the first theme.

Ex. 48-B

Ascending versions of the three-note fragment are quickly picked up by the violin, but after a couple of additional measures, the strident dissonances are heard in the violin, now producing even more bitter-sounding minor seconds. After a four-bar passage in octaves that repeatedly asserts horizontal minor seconds on sforzando off-beats, the first five measures of the first section return, the melody now in the cello, yielding the typical rounded binary form for the Scherzo section.

The trio section that follows (again unmarked in the score) is also divided into two subsections, the second longer than the first as is typical. The theme for the first section bounds cheerfully up the tonic triad in C major. It is echoed immediately by the viola and later the cello, although the violin continues its important melodic contributions. While all of this is clearly related to the opening motive of the Scherzo section, the mood is completely different—all sweetness and elegance, at least initially.

Ex. 48-C

The second part of the trio moves to E-flat major, presenting a rustic-sounding, jaunty little passage, all the jollier for its pianissimo dynamic marking.

Ex. 48-D

This section eventually takes on a more complex emotional tone, brought about by an ingenious use of struck suspensions and augmented sixth chords. Watson insightfully compares this passage to those later written by Schumann and Mendelssohn. It is not the first time that Beethoven summons up the sound world of middle Romanticism and won't be the last.

After the first eight bars come to a conclusion back in C major, elements of the first part of the trio are reintroduced (Ex. 48-C), this time touching briefly on a series of different tonal centers. Eventually, we arrive back securely in C major, only to be yanked unceremoniously back to the original key of C minor as the original Scherzo theme is brought back (Ex. 48-A).

The recapitulation of the Scherzo section is virtually note for note (without the original repeats) and nothing new is heard until we encounter the brief but remarkable coda. In only twelve measures, Beethoven manages to encapsulate a surprisingly intense development of two of the primary motives from the Scherzo, heard simultaneously for the first time:

Ex. 48-E

The movement may end quietly, but the brief coda manages to sum up with great effectiveness the breathless quality that characterizes the whole movement.

Movement IV—Finale

Presto, C minor, Alla breve

The first theme unfolds in quick two-bar phrases. The first is based on eighth-note triplets descending rapidly and ending on dominant. The second replicates the first an octave lower but ends on tonic. The next phrase is slightly more languid but, like the first, mixes legato and staccato notes equally.

Ex. 49-A

The modulatory transition begins with a restatement of the first four bars of the first subject before breaking into a series of ascending triplet patterns that takes the key quickly through A-flat major and F minor before setting up the dominant of E-flat major.

But this sonata form has another quirk in terms of key relationships: the second subject arrives in E-flat minor rather than E-flat major. The theme, with its unexpectedly "dark" tone, begins with an expressive minor sixth and is largely restricted to chordal outlines.

The unusually expansive two-bar phrase that opens the second subject is repeated three times (with embellishments) to make up the eight-bar statement of the theme, with a modification of the last bar to prepare for a linking passage that leads to the codetta.

Ex. 49-B

This four-bar link, brief as it is, is both colorful and motivically important, its triplets recalling the triplets of the first theme but its ascending leap afterwards constituting a new element (along with the ascending bass line beneath it).

Ex. 49-C

Following the four-bar link is an animated closing section, its throbbing eighth-note triplets in the viola and cello being its most memorable feature. The closing section spends most of its time prolonging the dominant chord with the tonic popping up occasionally on weak beats. It first increases, then decreases the dynamic intensity a couple of times, only to conclude with some vociferous banging away at a full-diminished seventh chord in preparation for the beginning of the codetta. The violin phrase that dominates it is probably most remarkable for its consecutive descending half-steps, which lend something of a coquettish character despite the rhythmic aggressiveness of the viola and cello beneath it.

Ex. 49-D

The codetta is a much quieter affair, once again featuring eighth-note triplets reminiscent of the first subject and, even more so, the four-bar link following the second subject (Ex. 49-C). The violin begins the pattern—this time the triplets are followed by an ascending fourth rather than an octave—but the figure is answered every time by viola and cello, each time moving up a step in the scale.

Ex. 49-E

The passage has a haunting quality about it, at least in part because of its occasionally ambiguous tonality. The passage begins in F minor, but quickly moves to E-flat major enhanced by multiple tonicizations of the minor subdominant chord as it proceeds. The exposition comes to a quiet conclusion on three repeated E-flat major chords.

The development section begins more robustly and somewhat unexpectedly with a sforzando chord on B-flat minor, not what one would expect to hear coming after the cadence in E-flat major that closes the exposition section. The chord turns out to be a borrowed subdominant (borrowed from the parallel mode) in F major and the new tonal center is quickly confirmed. But there are a few more surprises ahead. The initial motives and phrases we encounter in the development are familiar enough, all coming from the first subject. The more languid line (first descending, then ascending) from bars 5-6 (see Ex. 49-A) is heard twice in F major and then twice a major third lower with a key change to D-flat major. It is at this point that a "new" theme is introduced, although familiar enough in its rhythmic identity, triadic orientation and use of ornamentation:

Ex. 49-F

This figure, which is introduced and accompanied by a cello line that recalls the second subject, is presented twice in D-flat major, after which it also is dropped down a third (this time by a minor third) to the key of B-flat minor. After two more appearances, it is replaced by a series of eighth-note triplets that tumble down the scale in a manner reminiscent of the opening measures of the first subject. This tumbling motive is introduced on a tension-filled E diminished chord after a dramatic crescendo and handed from instrument to instrument as the key shifts from F minor toward the original tonic of C minor.

We arrive at a solid dominant chord on G a bit earlier than expected, but this early arrival doesn't diminish the sense of momentum that carries through the rest of the development section and into the recapitulation. The arrival of C minor also coincides with the appearance of a new featured motive—the codetta triplets return in the violin, answered by their inversion in the cello and later the viola. These dueling triplets echo back and forth for twelve measures before we pause on the dominant in a series of repeated pianissimo staccato quarter notes in the cello. After two bars of this, the viola adds an A-flat above the G, producing a rather searing dissonance. After two bars of this repeated dissonance, the cello finally resolves down a step to a consonance and the recapitulation begins as the violin sneaks in quietly with the return of the first subject. This use of dissonance is a very clever ploy; it reinvigorates the tonal tension one last time before that tension is relieved by the return of the first subject in tonic. (A similar device has been used with equal effectiveness a couple of years earlier in the opening movement of Beethoven's Piano Sonata in F minor, Op. 2, No. 1.)

This is a development section in which there is no wasted space and hardly a wasted note. Beethoven carefully manipulates the level of momentum, relaxing it a bit here in order to increase it there. But the whole section is masterful from beginning to end.

In the recapitulation, the first subject returns with a fuller texture and greater dynamic intensity than in the exposition. The recapitulation takes an unexpected turn when, in the place of the original modulatory transition, the original C minor theme is presented in C major, the violin melody doubled by the cello at the octave. This is followed by a free restatement of the original modulatory transition, which this time heads briefly to A minor before ending up rather surprisingly at G minor for the return of the second subject. G minor would seem at first glance to be a particularly unusual choice of key; still, it is obviously a first cousin of G major which, as the dominant of C minor, has the power to deliver us back to C minor smoothly. And in fact it exercises that power, although not before a developmental sequence diverts us briefly to E-flat major.

But we eventually revert to more "normal" behavior. The four measure link (Ex. 49-C) returns (in its new key, of course), and the recapitulation of the closing section is clearly recognizable, although some details have been changed.

The codetta returns, moving briefly in the direction of F minor, and a brief and rather subtle coda is tacked on after the original codetta has played itself out. But subtle though the coda may be, and as gently as the movement comes to a conclusion, it is a masterful one. Taken as a whole, this trio is certainly one of Beethoven's greatest early chamber works, easily the equal of at least two or three of the (much more famous) string quartets of Op. 18.

Chapter 8

The Early Cello Sonatas

In February, 1796, Beethoven set out for Prague, traveling with Prince Lichnowsky, who had made the same trip with Mozart seven years earlier. During his stay in Prague, he composed a concert aria, Op. 65, for soprano and orchestra, the Wind Sextet, Op. 71, (about which we will say more later) and one of his "easy" piano sonatas, Op. 49, No. 2. He also gave at least one concert in Prague before moving on to Dresden and Leipzig and, finally, Berlin in a concert tour that stretched on four times longer than he had originally planned. In Dresden he played for (and greatly impressed) the Elector of Saxony. Arriving in Berlin in May and staying until July, Beethoven made a number of important contacts, not the least of which were two famous cellists associated with the sophisticated musical court of the newly crowned King of Prussia, Frederich Wilhelm II. Frederick was an amateur cellist of some ability and surrounded himself with some of the great cello virtuosi of the period, most notably Jean Pierre Duport and his brother Jean Louis Duport, for whom Beethoven composed his first two cello sonatas, probably while residing in Berlin.

The two sonatas, composed after the Op. 3 string trio but before the Op. 8 and Op. 9 trios, all discussed in the previous chapter, have been generally described as "forward looking," for the independence and virtuosity displayed by the solo cello part. While the two sonatas may not be quite as sophisticated as the Op. 9 trios in terms of their handling of traditional forms, they are fine works in their own right and set the stage for the even more impressive cello sonatas Beethoven was to write later.

Cello Sonata in F Major, Op. 5, No 1

Movement I

Adagio sostenuto, F major, 3/4

The slow introduction is very formal in nature. The theme is stately and dignified, if unremarkable, for the first several measures. (See Ex. 50-A.)

The melodic movement merely outlines the tonic triad for the first two measures, the cello doubling the left hand of the piano. By measure 3 (which begins the sequential repetition of the opening motive), the cello has assumed a semblance of independence and, from that point on, alternates with the piano in presenting important thematic material.

Ex. 50-A

The impression is that of a very sedate and controlled F major tonality until bar 11, where the piano (with minimal accompaniment from the cello) introduces a series of chromatic chords that move the key in the direction of F minor.

Ex. 50-B

After the fairly bland harmonic activity up to that point, these chords (a mixture of Neapolitan sixth and secondary dominant chords) make a striking effect and suggest more dramatic activity to come. The cello maintains its arpeggio activity for the next few measures and the piano takes central stage with a series of flashing, mostly sequential scalewise passages interspersed with octave leaps over accented left hand chords.

Eventually a new idea is introduced: the cello presents a series of descending arpeggios of the dominant chord while the piano accompanies it with a series of "sweet-sounding" parallel thirds as we return to F major and an altogether lighter mood. The slow introduction comes to a close with a series of cadenza-like scale passages in swirling sixty-fourth notes and an extended trill by the piano, reinforced by multiple stops on the cello in slow-moving dotted rhythms. After this flurry of activity, we return to the more sedate mood of the opening measures before the introduction concludes with a fermata on the dominant seventh.

The Allegro section begins with a simple but catchy theme, one characterized initially by a descending scale line from the fifth scale degree (C) to the tonic, followed by a drop of a fourth down to the lower C. Harmonically, the theme is particularly simple, sitting on the tonic for three measures before finally turning to the dominant seventh.

Ex. 50-C

The second part of the phrase introduces a new motive, one that cheerfully arpeggiates up the F major tonic chord, arriving at its goal of B-flat before descending down within the dominant seventh sonority. The second phrase, which begins on B-flat, echoes the contour of the first measure, with a mild chromatic surprise introduced in the sixth measure, a C-sharp that creates a secondary dominant seventh that tonicizes the d minor chord that follows it. In measure 7, the third important motive is introduced—an octave leap (from A to A in its initial appearance) followed by a descending sixteenth-note run. A variant of the same motive is then heard starting on D and the ten-measure theme is brought to a close.

After a four-bar linking passage from the piano based on upper and lower neighbors circulating around the chord tones of the supertonic chord (G minor), the cello enters with a shorter variant of the theme, this time tonicizing the subdominant chord rather than the submediant.

Following this, the piano takes over the major activity again (the cello sustaining long tones against it) with sixteenth-note arpeggio patterns and some brief, scarcely developed new melodic motives. Not unreasonably, we sense this to be the modulatory transition, especially since it seems to be modulating to the dominant (C major).

But it does not arrive there, at least not immediately. The cello introduces a new theme characterized by both dotted rhythms and repeated notes with off-beat sforzandi that begin on an A-flat chord, the flat submediant in the key of C. (See Ex. 50-D.)

But of course the A-flat harmony is just a tease, and Beethoven soon uses a descending chromatic line in the bass to work his way to the key of C major. The second four bars of the second subject restate the first four up a step while the tonality heads toward D minor. This is followed by a mildly contrasting phrase, the cello and right hand of the piano proceeding in tenths. Appearing next is a varied repeat of the first phrase in the original key, which is once again repeated sequentially (with added decoration in the cello).

Ex. 50-D

A series of cascading scale lines once again return us to the flat submediant chord on which the second subject began, but this time the cello sustains long tones alternating with off-beat octaves, and the piano contributes a flurry of sixteenth notes as we begin a transition to the closing section. One of the most distinctive passages within this transitional section is heard in the piano, which presents a series of rapid tonicizations.

Ex. 50-E

Following this very distinctive passage in the piano, the cello takes center stage as it presents the broadly expansive closing section, which begins with repeated quarter notes but features a series of ascending leaps in half notes.

Ex. 50-F

After reaching a high point (with the dramatic leap of an ascending sixth), the melody gradually makes its way down the scale in eighth notes. While the cello then continues with a series of staccato, triad-based arpeggios, the piano continues with a four-bar phrase that cleverly encapsulates and ornaments the most prominent features of the cello's theme.

Ex. 50-G

Following this, a series of more conventional figuration passages take us to C minor with a stop-off at A-flat major, where the early accompanying arpeggios in the cello now take on more of a featured thematic role.

As the closing section continues, ascending chromatic scales in the piano bring about a dramatic crescendo to fortissimo and the cello contributes a series of fragmented motives that echo the second theme in their use of half steps and dotted rhythms.

The last distinctive melodic element in the exposition is the codetta, which arrives rather quietly and unobtrusively in the piano. It's in C major, but shaded slightly by the use of a borrowed minor subdominant chord. The melody is picked up the cello after the initial four-bar phrase, but then the whole, rather attractive idea disappears (unfortunately) from the landscape.

Ex. 50-H

The remainder of the codetta is much more about keeping the rhythmic momentum at a high level than about introducing new melodic ideas. A series of interlocking, somewhat syncopated sixteenth-note figures tossed back and forth between the right and left hands of the piano accompany a repeated four-bar phrase in the cello that is little more than a standard cadence pattern.

Most of the interest comes, in these final measures of the exposition, from the sweeping crescendi that underlie the interlocking figures and the ascending stepwise motion in the bass. The bass line comes to a stop on F which, as we enter the first ending, somewhat surprisingly serves to anchor a secondary dominant that tonicizes the subdominant chord of B-flat major. It's a somewhat confusing maneuver, so close to the end of the exposition, but the original dominant (C major) soon makes an appearance and prepares us for the repeat of the exposition.

If the last minute tonicization of the subdominant in the first ending is something of a surprise, what happens in the second ending to launch us into the development section is an even greater surprise. A D-sharp full-diminished seventh chord resolves to a dominant seventh on E, setting up the unexpected key of A major for the beginning of the development section. This certainly isn't the first time that Beethoven has begun his development section in an unusual key, but it may be the most shocking to the ear to this point.

The development section begins by quoting the first four bars of the first subject in A major, but it is a variant of the first two bars of that theme that will attract the most attention as the development proceeds.

Ex. 50-I

The second measure appears in a somewhat simplified version (the two thirty-second notes replaced by a single sixteenth) and it is this version of the two-bar phrase (along with its minor key cousin, in which the upper neighbor is only a half-step above the E) that Beethoven seems never to weary of. Other thematic fragments from the first subject do show up from time to time in the development section, but it is these two measures that hold sway in both the cello and piano parts. As we move toward D minor and then later G minor, the minor key version of the motive comes into play and it is thrown back and forth between piano and cello with renewed ferocity. There are fleeting reminiscences of the closing section but, even as the development section continues to change keys, the two-bar motive increasingly becomes an idée fixe, returning again and again, sometimes even in diminution.

But Beethoven has other surprises up his sleeve. A little more than two-thirds through the development section, our key of F minor is interrupted by a plunge into D-flat major and an new theme based on half notes descending down a D-flat major triad. After all the rather cramped half-note melodic movement we've been subjected to, this new theme sounds positively expansive and very attractive. One might even be inclined to refer to it as "heroic" were it not for the pianissimo dynamic at which it's initially presented. (See Ex. 50-J.)

The reiterated D-flats in the left hand finally (and powerfully) begin to ascend by half-steps as the cello offers repeated three-note motives reminiscent of the closing section. In the final measures of the development, we are slipped back into the original tonic of F major by an unusual augmented major seventh chord on the dominant.

Ex. 50-J

After all that, the recapitulation comes as a bit of an anti-climax. The piano, aided and abetted by the cello, brings back the first theme in its original form. But the modulatory transition has a novelty of its own: it reintroduces a variant of the new theme heard first in the development section (Ex. 50-J). It is unusual enough for Beethoven to introduce a brand new theme into the development in what is otherwise a conventional sonata form movement, but the return of that theme to play such a major (and welcome) role in the recapitulation is doubly extraordinary.

The recapitulation of the second subject appears first in the cello and once again seems to be in the "wrong" key. This time it begins in D-flat (or at least on a D-flat major chord) before settling down to the F major we expect to hear.

The transition to the closing section reappears much as one would expect, jolting us briefly into D-flat major in a move analogous to that heard in the exposition. The same clever little passage of rapid tonicizations again makes an appearance (comparable to Ex. 50-E) and the closing section theme is again presented initially in the cello. As before, Beethoven sidetracks us to D-flat major briefly, but we are brought back to F major for a variant of the original codetta. The codetta is extended somewhat before we encounter the first part of the coda, which turns out to be a somewhat complex, multi-section affair. After more rhythmic punctuation and passage work, we encounter a fermata, followed by motives from the first subject that echo back and forth between piano and violin. Eventually, this brisk and busy rhythmic flow is interrupted by an unexpected shift of tempo to an Adagio section of only six measures, which harkens back to the movement's slow introduction without actually quoting it. Next we encounter a Presto section in Alla breve in which a fully notated but very cadenza-like passage in the piano is heard. Although the cello joins in and shares some of the fun, it's all heard very much as a break in the action and a little puzzling after the more thoughtful (if rather brief) Adagio section.

As if Beethoven needed to pull us back to the main essence of the movement before closing it out, there is a final section—a return to Tempo I—that consists of a last quote of the first two measures of the opening subject and a scamper to the final cadence of the movement.

Movement II

Allegro vivace, F Major, 6/8

This rondo is one of Beethoven's most effective to date, not necessarily because the refrain theme is so remarkable by itself, but because of the beguiling way in which the whole movement unfolds. The movement begins with a simple but frisky theme in the cello, its opening motive echoed quickly by the piano.

Ex. 51-A

The next four bars provide a varied repeat of the first four with the piano taking the lead and the cello providing the echo. There is a little two-bar tag on the end, a variant of measures 7 and 8, which is to take on a life of its own later in the movement.

The modulatory transition that follows features some rapid arpeggio patterns that are particularly demanding for the cellist. The transition tonicizes the subdominant briefly (B-flat major), but then moves on in the direction of the dominant (C major) as the piano left hand begins pumping octave sixteenth notes on the dominant in the new key.

The first episode is not particularly unique, but features a fast harmonic rhythm and multiple tonicizations in relatively short order. The piano takes the lead for the first two measures with the cello repeating the motive down a step (and briefly in the key of G major). (See Ex. 51-B.)

The two-bar motive is repeated again in slightly varied form by piano and cello (in the keys of F major and C major respectively) followed by the second part of the episode, a series of ascending major third patterns, neatly inflected by chromatic lower neighbors, each of which introduces the new phrase with a secondary dominant chord. This new thematic idea is repeated by the cello and the first episode comes to a close in C major.

Ex. 51-B

More figuration patterns featuring arpeggios and octave leaps dominate the retransition, along with off-beat sforzando figures in the left hand of the piano and the cello. Eventually the sections becomes a bit generic, as piano and cello swap endless arpeggios on C major before breaking into something very like a written-out trill that finally takes us to the return of the refrain.

But before the refrain makes a return to the original tonic of F major, it comes back fleetingly in E-flat major (the new key having been prepped somewhat by the notated trill), a "false" return of the sort we've seen from Beethoven before. The "false" return takes up only six measures before the "real" refrain is upon us, varied a bit by an effective veer to its parallel minor. After a brief transition that resembles the first one, we are presented with a new episode in B-flat minor.

This new episode (the "C" episode in what is so far an A-B-A-C form) is an exceedingly clever one—a rakish little "gypsy-influenced" dance complete with accompanying cello pizzicatos.

Ex. 51-C

The grace notes play a particularly important role in creating the "local color" for this little theme, which is immediately taken over in varied form by the cello. Afterwards, the entire eight-bar section is repeated and followed by a mildly contrasting second section that moves briefly to D-flat major and stops for a while at E-flat minor before returning to B-flat minor at its conclusion. Then the cello takes over with its own variant of this section, politely agreeing to share the melodic interest with the piano.

After this colorful little excursion, what follows may be a little disappointing, but it certainly provides a strong contrast with all that rhythmic energy and gypsy élan. The key plunges down a third from B-flat minor to G-flat major and we get a series of ever-rising arpeggio patterns on G-flat for quite a while. After a shift to D-flat major, we get much the same thing in the new key, with the cello sustaining open fifths on the tonic and fifth of the chord all the while. But eventually we work our way back to F minor and, soon after that, to F major in preparation for the return of the refrain theme.

After four bars of swirling scale fragments and written out trills, the refrain melody returns in the cello, even as the swirling fragments and trills continue in the right hand of the piano. The piano left hand contributes the by-now familiar echo of the opening refrain motive and the theme plays out as expected, although with a varied repeat of bars 7 and 8, and without the figure from bars 9 and 10 of the original refrain.

The transition that follows is a somewhat extended variation of the original transition with the pumping octaves in the left hand of the piano intact, but with new thirds and tenths between the cello and piano octaves.

A variation of the first episode follows (the "B'" of the developing ABACAB'A form) and it is followed by a retransition that is in some respects similar to the first, but is missing the long trill-like passage, and which now includes extensive elements from the second retransition as well. These include, most notably, the arpeggio patterns, beginning in the key of D-flat and going to G-flat (the reverse of the original pattern). This "borrowed" section is followed by a clever "new" section featuring a somewhat mysterious development of a three-note motive, which is harmonized by a series of secondary dominant chords that conclude (as one might expect) back on the tonic of F major for the final refrain.

The final appearance of the refrain is least like the original; the first four bars are heard in the cello against a prolonged dominant trill in the right hand of the piano. For the next four bars, the tune is taken by the piano in thirds while the cello takes up a rapidly reiterated pedal on the dominant. The refrain is again abbreviated (bars 9 and 10 are once again omitted) and it flows seamlessly into a multi-section coda.

The coda begins by developing motives from the refrain theme rather briskly until a rallentando section is introduced, slowing the pace considerably and injecting a thoughtful pause in the action (a strategy that was also used effectively near the end of the first movement). The primary material used for this slower section is derived from bars 9 and 10 of the refrain theme, the very same measures that had been eliminated in its last two appearances. But now those two bars dominate for most of the next fifteen measures, including a brief Adagio passage in which they are heard for the last time. Then the Tempo primo is reasserted, the piano takes over with a series of robust sixteenth-note arpeggios to finally secure the F major tonality once and for all, and the cello bandies about the first three notes of the refrain melody cheerfully until the movement—and the piece—drives to its fortissimo conclusion.

There is no question that Beethoven's Cello Sonata in F major is a "new" type of cello sonata. The cello almost completely succeeds in divorcing its activities from those of the piano's left hand, and is repeatedly provided with important thematic material not doubled by the piano, although occasionally shared with it. Furthermore, the material provided to the cello is often completely idiomatic to that instrument and seldom a mere replication or even adaptation of the sort of figuration patterns usually assigned to the piano. To the contrary, the cello often exploits important thematic material on its own terms and in a style far more suitable to it than the piano.

Cello Sonata in G Minor, Op. 5, No 2

Movement I

Adagio sostenuto ed espressivo, G minor, Common time (4/4)

Although sometimes designated as a separate movement, the Adagio sostenuto ed espressivo section fulfills more or less the same role as did the introductory Adagio section in the first cello sonata, i.e., a serious, even weighty introduction to the Allegro section that immediately follows it.

The opening melodic material is quite simple, little more than a descending scale line in dotted rhythms starting on the fifth of the scale in the piano. But the tempo and expressive markings combine to give it almost tragic implications in a sensitive performance. (See Ex. 52-A.)

The cello adds to the tension-filled mood by responding with a diminished triad on A (actually part of the F-sharp diminished chord provided by the piano). By the fifth measure, after the piano has repeated its pattern a step higher, we seem to be headed toward C minor.

Ex. 52-A

We achieve that goal by measure five, but we stay in C minor only briefly. Soon we are headed back toward the dominant seventh of G minor and then the tonic itself. In measure seven we encounter a new theme in the cello.

Ex. 52-B

Of course it also starts on the fifth of the scale and also uses dotted rhythms (actually doubled-dotted eighth notes in this case), but the interlocking broken thirds and other ornamental flourishes help to distinguish this from the opening piano theme. The first two-bar phrase ends solidly on dominant, but the next phrase, delivered by the piano, repeats the first down a third in the key of E-flat.

Following this is another new theme from the cello, offering some real contrast for the first time, with an ascending figure that features some unusual repeated staccato markings but is otherwise rather sensuous.

Ex. 52-C

This cello theme is replicated in slightly varied form a bar later in the piano, the entire statement lasting only four measures in all. After this, the descending motive from measure one is brought back in the piano, but this time in the key of E-flat.

This motive then dominates the next several measures, although new staccato marking are soon acquired, and the piano responds from time to time with an ascending countermelody in dotted sixteenths and thirty-second notes that can be heard as something of a free inversion of the descending line.

The piano eventually opens up into a series of relatively spacious sounding chordal arpeggios and the cello sequences the descending motive through various keys, almost as in a miniature development section. After a passage of several measures in which the prevailing descending line is balanced from time to time with an ascending line in the left hand of the piano, the cello finally joins in with an ascending scale pattern of its own in dotted rhythms. This leads to the reappearance of the theme from measures 7 and 8 (Ex. 52-B) in the cello in the key of A-flat, which is then duplicated by the piano against a new cello countermelody.

A new descending three-note motive is then quietly introduced, followed by a final reappearance of the opening theme of the movement, now heard against dominant seventh chords in the key of G minor. The final measures of the introduction are spent preparing for the final half-cadence on dominant, but include a great deal of silence (almost five entire beats at one point) before the final reiteration of the dominant seventh is heard.

After the customary anacrusis, the Allegro molto piu tosto presto section begins in 3/4 meter. It is immediately seen to be less weighty than one might suppose, given the long and seemingly serious introduction that preceded it. That is not to say that the opening cello theme (the first in a string of related melodic ideas) is devoid of attractive features; it unfolds in a nice arch-shaped contour and begins with an immediate tonicization of the subdominant chord (the same chord had been tonicized early on in the introduction), but is securely back in G minor by the fourth measure.

Ex. 52-D

This phrase is immediately imitated at the fifth by the piano within a chord progression that concludes on dominant. Following this is a new (but related) two-bar phrase.

Ex. 52-E

This is in turn repeated by the piano and a variant of it is played up a fourth by the cello. This new version of the motive is then repeated and extended in the piano, after which a new four-bar phrase serving a transitional function takes us to the next important new idea, a more sustained, lyrical phrase presented first by the cello.

Ex. 52-F

This two-bar phrase, played over eighth-note triplet arpeggios in the piano, fills the next several measures with a series of ascending melodic sequences without ever leaving the key of G minor. Eventually the piano takes up the theme with the cello harmonizing it in tenths and occasionally moving against it in contrary motion. Now, for the first time, some tonal movement is heard as the music heads in the direction of E-flat major. Near the end of this passage, a powerful and unexpected G-flat in the bass pulls the key away from its temporary home of E-flat toward B-flat minor as a strong transitional motive is introduced.

Ex. 52-G

This new motive, or elements of it, dominates the next several measures, reaching what is to that point the dramatic climax of the Allegro section. But things quiet down quickly, and the second subject is introduced (via an augmented chord) in the relative major of B-flat major.

Ex. 52-H

This new theme resembles the first subject somewhat, but features a much more powerful upward sweep. Harmonically, it is rather conservative, never straying from the tonic and dominant chords in the new key. The next four-bar phrase is a somewhat busier variant of the first, which returns to the tonic key and completes the period. Following this is a contrasting phrase, also ending on tonic.

Ex. 52-I

This four-bar phrase is repeated, altered slightly to end on the dominant chord. Then the cello repeats the first eight-bar period (beginning with the phrase from Ex. 52-H). The second phrase of that opening period is heard in varied form, and the cello then continues with the first phrase from Ex. 52-I. At that point the key veers temporarily to B-flat minor and the first two bars of Ex. 52-I are heard in overlapping statements from piano and cello, each time a step higher, finally leading to a ritardando and fermata that bring the second subject to a close.

What follows can be heard as a closing section or, more likely, a transitional passage on the way to it. The most prominent thematic feature is a gradually ascending chromatic line in the cello that begins piano but eventually crescendos to a sforzando climax. Various new motives are introduced briefly along the way, including some that look forward to a memorable closing section theme.

Ex. 52-J

This new theme, heard first in the piano is—surprisingly—interrupted by a fermata just as it appears to be gaining momentum. Then the cello picks up the theme and momentum is re-established, rising eventually to a fortissimo passage of cascading eighth-note triplets in the piano. These triplets dominate for several measures, eventually quieting only to be built up again to a strong climax. But a quick decrescendo brings the intensity level back down and an obvious authentic cadence prepares the way for a brief codetta.

Ex. 52-K

After moving from B-flat major to C minor, the development section begins much as the exposition ended—with the cello reiterating the fifth scale degree and the piano providing hard-driving eighth-note triplets in the right hand and staccato quarter-note chord arpeggios in the left. Watson characterizes the development as "not so much an argument between the two instruments as a full-blooded duel," and to be sure there is a lot of skirmishing going on with alternating sforzando accents within an over-all fortissimo dynamic level.

After seven measures, we encounter the first familiar thematic element—the second theme in the first subject group (Ex. 52-F), first heard in G minor and now heard in C minor. The theme is heard first in the cello, but the piano takes it turns in presenting it as well, as the key eventually changes to A-flat major before passing briefly through B-flat minor on the way back to C minor.

Eventually, as the dynamic level finally begins to diminish, we move into the somewhat remote key of D minor as a new theme is introduced, eight bars long and resembling the second subject a bit in spirit, if not in intervallic detail.

Ex. 52-L

The piano immediately produces a variant of the theme in G minor and the cello then returns with the theme in E-flat major.

Beethoven's first cello sonata also introduced a new theme in the development (as had a few other earlier works), but in this instance the new theme doesn't contrast as dramatically with earlier thematic material. Still, it's a bit surprising that Beethoven allows the new theme to dominate so completely for the rest of the development (at times focusing more on its individual motivic elements than the theme in its entirety) when there are so many other attractive themes from the exposition that could have been exploited. In the last few bars of the development section, as the key works its way back to the original tonic of G minor, Beethoven does begin to look toward to the recapitulation of the first theme by the reiteration of the third bar of that theme (the three descending quarter notes), but on the whole the development section may be as notable for what it leaves out as for what it includes.

The recapitulation proceeds more or less normally, at least initially. The first partial deviation from convention comes in the recapitulation of the second theme in the first subject group (Ex. 52-F). This theme is referenced in the key of E-flat major but not repeated in its original form. Back in G minor, the transition motive from Ex. 52-G makes a reappearance and the second subject is heard in G major (rather than its original key of B-flat major).

After a shift back to G minor, the transition to the closing section once again features the ascending chromatic line in the cello. The closing section comes back in G minor as well, although it experiences a few more harmonic adventures than the original in the process. The codetta, now in G minor, finishes out the recapitulation in predictable fashion.

After a double bar, there is (as in the first cello sonata) a "tacked-on" coda. This does not present anything that is remarkably new, functioning initially simply as "development section, part 2." However, it does not develop the second theme in the first subject group, which had been the almost single-minded focus of the first development section. Instead, it is built largely on the quarter-note motive taken from the third and fourth bars of the opening subject (Ex. 52-D).

The coda is also generally quieter than the rather bombastic development section, although the softer passages eventually swell up into larger climaxes. The momentum picks up nicely in a rapid little circle of fifths passage in the piano (one that is cleverly broken off by a chromatic half-step in the bass) and a fleeting reference to the codetta right before the movement comes to a close on a G major chord. On the whole, however, the coda provides only minimal added value to the movement as a whole.

Movement II—Rondo

Allegro, G major, 2/4

Just as in the first cello sonata (and a number of other chamber works in this period), the finale is a rondo, this time designated officially so in the score. This particular rondo is rich and full of surprises, the simplicity of its opening phrase notwithstanding. The theme itself moves up to the sixth scale degree before darting back down to the second and eventually coming to rest on tonic over a IV-V-I progression, a non-tonic chord opening that was a bit unusual for any late eighteenth century composer.

Ex. 53-A

The next four bars repeat the first with a modification only to allow the period to conclude on tonic. This "a" section is followed by a "b" section that is also piano dominated. The key shifts temporarily to the relative minor of E minor and new rhythms and new harmonies are encountered, including some dominant minor ninth chords that carry a particular punch.

Ex. 53-B

The first "a" section of the rounded binary theme then returns to bring the key securely back to G major.

An exciting transition section follows, one that is notable for its staccato sixteenth notes and chromatic movement in both the melody and inner voices (often doubled by the cello). After the key has been shifted to D major, the first episode is presented, its use of chromatic lower neighbor tones being its most distinctive feature.

Ex. 53-C

After four bars, the episode loses a strong melodic character, degenerating somewhat to a series of octave leaps in the right hand of the piano, but picking up some support from the cello along the way. After eight bars the cello takes up the melody and the episode fritters away with a series of chromatic lower neighbor figures.

In a rondo form finale such as this one, the listener would normally expect a return of the refrain at this point but, after a brief transition that draws from the first episode, we get another episode—a particularly colorful one at that—in the key of D minor.

Ex. 53-D

This second episode (episode "B"), appearing unexpectedly without an intervening refrain, is colorful but fairly brief. The piano accompaniment is made up of simple Alberti bass patterns—sometimes in the right hand, sometimes in the left—and it is not long before the initial theme gives way to varied repetitions that begin to move toward A minor and then E minor. A simple sequence delivers the key from E minor back to G major where the refrain makes a reappearance. This time, the refrain melody is heard first in the cello with a new accompaniment figure (although still arpeggio-based) in the piano. After the first four bars, the piano takes up the tune. After these eight measures (the original "a" section), the 'b" section of the refrain, which is varied slightly from the original, is shared between piano and cello. After the "a" section returns, the "b" section also returns (unlike the original refrain) as cello and piano right hand and left hand chase each other around playfully. This segues into an interesting new passage notable for both its rhythm, (especially its use of staccato sixteenth notes) and its rapid tonicizations. Those tonicizations notwithstanding, the section concludes in G major and a new transition section is introduced that takes us to the third episode (episode "D"). Here the new piano theme goes bounding merrily up the C major triad while the cello engages in frenzied thirty-second note arpeggios against it.

Ex. 53-E

This is, harmonically, fairly static, but the cello activity keeps the listener's interest high as we move to a contrasting phrase that meanders downward before the cello picks up the original phrase. All of this constitutes the "a" section of another rounded binary theme. A less distinctive "b" section follows, which moves sequentially through A minor and G major before returning to C major. Then the bounding triad of the "a" section returns in the piano, along with the gently pulsating thirty-second note accompaniment from the cello. The cello once more assumes the melodic interest as we encounter a new section that combines rhythmic elements from the "a" section with melodic insinuations of the "b" section. This gives way to a more mundane transition section and we soon find ourselves right back at the "a" section. All of this constitutes something very much like the climax of the movement (even though the actual melodic activity borders on the trivial) because of the breathless quality it produces.

Things slow down considerably in terms of momentum in the brief retransition that follows, and we more or less "back in" to the final clear statement of the refrain. But while the return of the refrain may be clear enough, it is not, at least initially, in the "correct" key (i.e., not in the original tonic). Instead, the opening of the refrain tune is quoted in A-flat major by the piano as the cello sustains an A-flat against it. After a couple of bars, the piano moves to a series of sixteenth-note arpeggio patterns that gradually transform the key back to G major, where the refrain melody re-enters. But while the tune comes back at the original pitch level, it does not come back with the original harmonization. Instead, the E on the first downbeat is harmonized as the ninth of a dominant chord rather than the third of the subdominant chord as it had been in the original. In fact the original subdominant chord is eliminated altogether, and the entire eight-bar period is heard over a dominant pedal and against a new and attractive cello countermelody that occasionally joins in with the theme itself. The "b" section resembles the original (Ex. 53-B), but with the piano's left hand chasing the cello's ascending scale line. The "a" section returns in clearly recognizable form, but fortified with a cello countermelody that often harmonizes with it at the tenth.

This final, complete recurrence of the refrain theme then passes to a version of the original transition section and then a variant of the first episode, now shifted from the key of D major to the tonic of G major. This leads, after a very brief transition, to a recurrence of the second episode (episode "C"), which now appears in G minor. After this, the refrain (or part of it) makes another appearance, with the original "b" section now replaced by a rhythmically-charged phrase in G major that soon takes on a life of its own, veering into G minor for what is almost a miniature development section. A transition takes us to E-flat major where the first part of the coda is introduced. Mixing Alberti bass arpeggios, pumping octaves, a new four-note motive and sequentially rising bass line, the opening bars of the refrain theme flash into consciousness here and there, along with echoes of the refrain's "b" section.

In the final part of the coda, we are introduced to a halting tune, new in detail but clearly related to earlier themes, that briefly slows the momentum, only to allow it to rise up to a new peak as the piano charges to the finish with thirty-second note scale passages against the final fleeting reminiscences of the refrain theme in the cello.

This particular rondo has its formal peculiarities but works quite effectively in the end, carefully balancing a variety of themes and enough novelty to keep the listener engaged from start to finish.

How" revolutionary" are these two cello sonatas? Taken as a whole, the two cello sonatas do succeed in breaking some new ground, especially in terms of the importance assigned to the cello. It's true that the piano normally leads the way and, in most cases, presents the important thematic material first, with the cello following along a little later. It's also probably true that the piano receives the most virtuosic treatment, at least in places. But the cello is not far behind, and in the final regard serves as an equal partner with the piano, something that was clearly not the case for most of the sonatas for string instrument and piano prior to this point, including many of Mozart's fine sonatas.

Twelve Variations in G Major on "See the Conqu'ring Hero Comes" from Handel's Judas Maccabaeuss, WoO 45.

Like the two early cello sonatas, this was probably composed in 1796 while Beethoven was staying in Berlin and was premiered by Beethoven and Jean-Louis Duport at the same concert in which the two early cello sonatas were first performed.

The aria melody on which the variations are based was one of Handel's most popular (and used by the composer in more than one oratorio). It has often been suggested that this particular theme was chosen in part as a tribute to King Frederich Wilhelm. It is a simple tune, but noble in bearing and with heroic associations because of its place in Handel's oratorio.

The theme, twenty-four bars in all, is in a typical rounded binary form. The first section ("a") is in G major and ends on tonic, being restricted to tonic and dominant chords throughout. The second section ("b") begins in the relative minor key (E minor) but ends on a D major dominant chord. The third ("a'") is a varied repeat of the first (adding in a just a touch of late eighteenth century chromaticism) and ends on tonic.

Beethoven presents the theme in a simple arrangement, similar to the SSA version heard when the melody is first encountered in Judas Maccabaeuss. The piano dominates with the cello generally doubling the left hand of the piano. The cello is absent for the first four bars of the "b" section.

Variation I is for piano alone, the theme immediately transformed into a more sinuous late eighteenth-century line with the addition of passing tones and chromatic lower neighbors. The "b" section retains a little more of the original Baroque dignity, although more heavily marked with accents and sforzandi. The final "a'" section returns to the more coquettish tone, although it is a bit less sensuous in its use of chromaticism.

Variation II introduces a simple cello variation of the melody, one that proceeds mostly in quarter notes and is harmonized by eighth-note triplets in the piano. The "b" section has a bit more character, mostly because of its distinctive use of articulations. The "a'" section returns to the style of the first section with a little more rhythmic activity introduced as we approach the end of the variation.

Variation III includes only a cursory role for the cello as the piano dominates with bustling sixteenth-note scale passages embedded with copious upper and chromatic lower neighbor tones. The cello disappears again in the "b" section as the right and left hands of the piano swap motives back and forth, evoking for a while the texture and motivic interplay of a Bach invention. The final "a'" section is essentially a variant of the first.

Variation IV moves to G minor and features an emotionally-tinged cello melody that references the original theme but occupies a completely different emotional world. In the "b" section, where the key switches to E-flat major, the mood changes to a sweeter, less intense atmosphere. But the original cello melody returns for the final section, making an even more austere effect because the earlier Alberti bass patterns in the piano have now been replaced by a sparser and more linear accompaniment.

If the fourth variation is the most somber and contemplative, Variation V is perhaps the most frivolous. Back in G major, the piano leads the way with highly embellished two-measure melodic statements that are answered by the cello with simpler, more lyrical phrases. This proceeds rather predictably for several measures until two bars before the end of the variation, when the cello surprises with a fortissimo quadruple-stopped subdominant chord on the way to a quieter final cadence.

Variation VI begins with a pleasantly dolce melody by the cello, answered by the piano in a more decorative style. Periodic weak-beat sforzandi add a little rhythmic unpredictability to the flow. The piano leads the way in the "b" section where the roles are more or less reversed. The end result is a thoroughly polite and elegant little variation without a great deal of unique character.

Variation VII, although largely pianissimo in its dynamic markings, is quite a bit more energetic and rhythmically aggressive. It stays close to the original theme harmonically (as most of these variations do) but makes considerable virtuoso demands on the cello with its rapid eighth-note triplet arpeggios. The piano accompaniment is generally quite light with crisp eighth-note chords on the beat, except for the "b" section where it seizes control with a series of dynamic eighth-note triplets, often played in tenths between the right and left hands. The "a'" section returns the triplets to the cello, once again at a pianissimo dynamic marking where technical demands of this sort are particularly difficult to meet.

We're back in G minor for Variation VIII, and a rather ferocious G minor at that. The piano dominates with sixteenth-note passages that rocket up the scale, switching from the left hand to the right, and lending a sort of mock-tragedy to the affair. Although the harmony is initially restricted to the traditional tonic and dominant chords, there is in measure 6 a rather jolting D diminished seventh chord that tonicizes the subdominant chord a little later.

Another more sustained harmonic surprise comes at the beginning of the "b" section where the key switches to E-flat major and a pianissimo chorale-like series of chords ensue in the piano. The tonality soon slips into D minor and the D minor chord is then transformed into major in order to bring back the original G minor tonality. The variation ends with the return of the sweeping scales from the original "a" section.

By contrast, Variation IX is quiet and restrained, completely lacking in bombast. There is some pseudo-imitation between piano and cello initially (the melodic shapes being imitated rather than the exact interval patterns) but even that is inconsistent. The "b" section again provides a chorale-like passage, but it comes as considerably less of a surprise than it did in Variation VIII. There is a bit of a dynamic peak at the end of the "b" section, but the variation ends as it had begun, quietly and unobtrusively.

Variation X is quite a bit busier with almost constant sixteenth-note arpeggio and scale patterns in the piano, while the cello renders the original theme more or less intact and with all its attendant dignity. Imitation plays a more conspicuous part in this variation, occurring as a canon at the octave after two beat with the cello leading. The imitation breaks off for the "b" section and returns—doubled in octaves by the piano—for the final "a'" section.

The tempo shifts from the Allegro of the previous variation to Adagio in Variation XI and the piano begins with highly florid lines and grace-note arpeggios. The cello enters in measure 5 with an equally florid line, but the music still retains its pensive quality, a particularly expressive use of nonharmonic tones occurring in the "b" section. The cello gradually asserts its expressive dominance as the variation continues, all the way to the quiet ending.

Variation XII, the final variation, is a bit of a disappointment. It is a jaunty, triple meter (3/8) variation that mirrors the original tune closely, starting with the piano alone and adding in the cello by measure 9. It is all perfectly clever and even shows a few nifty harmonic touches, but there is nothing even faintly heroic or cosmic about it, the ten-measure trill on the dominant by the piano erasing all such possibilities. It's an attractive enough variation, but it's tempting to suggest that it probably shouldn't have been the last one, especially considering the fact that the cello's contributions—although a bit flashy here and there—are not that substantial.

A note on sources:

Although it focuses mostly on Beethoven's later chamber music, Victor Lederer's Beethoven's Chamber Music—A Listener's Guide: Unlocking the Masters Series, No. 24. (New York: Amadeus Press, 2012) includes an insightful discussion of the early cello sonatas.

Chapter 9

The Early Violin Sonatas, Op. 12, Nos. 1-3

While Beethoven's later violin sonatas are generally considered to be among the finest of the late eighteenth-nineteenth century literature for the instrument, his first three early violin sonatas have not fared as well in critical opinion. Nevertheless, they are valuable works that show glimpses of his later genius and harbor some fascinating surprises within their depths.

Violin Sonata in D major, Op. 12, No. 1

Movement I

Allegro con brio, D major, Common time (4/4)

The first movement announces its presence with a conventional fanfare theme played in octaves by violin and piano that extends into the fifth bar over the tonic triad. At that point, a somewhat more distinctive thematic element is introduced in the violin, one featuring large leaps (octaves and sevenths) followed by gradually descending triadic arpeggios.

Ex. 54-A

Although the theme is conventional enough and the harmonies beneath it are rather conservative, Beethoven adds a little uniqueness to the theme by providing some sliding chromaticism in the piano accompaniment. After this eight-bar theme is introduced by the violin, the cello takes it up and presents it a more highly ornamented and dramatic variation featuring leaps to accented high notes and tumbling eighth-note triplets. The first subject is extended briefly with repeated cadences before passing to the modulatory transition, characterized by a couple of strong motives, both heard initially in the violin.

Ex. 54-B & Ex. 54-C

It's the dramatically descending line in Ex. 54-C that receives most of the attention in the measures that follow, but it's a powerful ascending line in sixteenth notes and doubled in octaves that really announces the end of the transition. At that point, the second theme is presented in the key of the dominant (A major) by the piano. It features a series of cascading scale fragments, each starting a step lower and finally stabilizing on the dominant.

Ex. 54-D

Followed this initial four-bar phrase, the violin takes the same melodic phrase a step higher and eventually returns it to tonic. The piano then retakes the initiative with a variation of its opening phrase in a much ornamented version, eighth-note triplets filling in for the original eighth notes, against a chromatically-inflected violin countermelody. Then it's the violin's turn to take the more ornamented version of the melody, while the piano supplies the chromatic countermelody.

All of this flows smoothly into the closing section, which is marked by a theme clearly related to the second part of the first subject (after the "fanfare" motive, Ex. 54-A). The closing section soon develops into the most interesting part of the exposition. First, a new descending scale pattern of sixteenth notes begins to gain prominence (Ex. 54-E). This is tossed back and forth between violin and piano as the key moves through A minor and even F major, an unusual choice for an exposition section given the overall key of the movement. Eventually the descending sixteenths are transformed into a new melodic idea based on descending eighth notes and that idea (Ex. 54-F) prevails until we arrive at the codetta.

Ex. 54-E & Ex. 54-F

The codetta is prepared by four measures of a trill on the dominant in the piano and unquestionably represents an important component of the exposition. But the codetta theme itself is fairly unremarkable, beginning with four fortissimo half note chords that initially sound something like the beginning of a militant chorale melody. But all chorale-like traces disappear almost immediately, as staccato chords and sixteenth-note figuration patterns take over, in turn yielding to sweeping scale patterns and snatches of imitation as the exposition comes to a robust conclusion.

The development section begins in F major, the same "unlikely" key that was anticipated in the closing section meanderings. The first theme that appears is just as unlikely—the "chorale-like" chords that marked the first measures of the codetta, now heard at a much softer volume level. But the half note chords again depart the scene quickly, to be replaced by several references to the second part of the first subject (Ex. 54-A).

This is not the most compelling of Beethoven's early development sections. Although he tries to whip up some energy by the constant use of crescendi and decrescendi, and eventually introduces the fanfare rhythms from the first subject in the accompaniment to add a little rhythmic energy to the texture, the development section runs its allotted course (fortunately a brief one) without generating a great deal of excitement.

The recapitulation is equally unremarkable. The various themes appear in their proper order and, for the most part, expected keys, although the closing section once again engages in some mildly exotic tonal wandering. But we're securely back in the original tonic of D major by the time we get to the chords that had signaled the beginning of the codetta. This codetta, pretty much a duplication of the first one, serves also as the coda for the movement. In his two early cello sonatas, Beethoven had extended the form with more or less independent and lengthy coda sections. But he apparently sees no need for such things here, and the original codetta takes us to the end of the movement with some rousing scale passages and full-bodied chords.

Movement II—Tema con Variazioni

Andante con moto, A major, 2/4

The slow movement consists of a pleasant, if largely unremarkable, theme with four variations. The theme begins by first ascending and then descending a tonic triad (A major), followed by a leap to the seventh of a dominant seventh chord. The next two bars amount to a slightly simpler version of the same pattern, and measures 4-8 contain the theme's most distinctive gesture—a strong, chromatically-inflected ascending line peaking with a dramatic lower neighbor dissonance, followed by a gradual descent.

The second half of this binary theme is more interesting harmonically, incorporating multiple secondary dominant chords and an even more effective use of nonharmonic tones.

The first variation, dominated by the piano with some rather mechanical accompaniment figures from the violin, shows an overall increase in rhythmic activity, including some new dotted eighth-sixteenth figures and, in the second half, a series of thirty-second note arpeggios from the piano. Decorative scale passages and triadic motives abound, following the general harmonic plan of the original, but ignoring for the most part the general contour of the original theme.

In the second variation, the thirty-second note activity has also been picked up by the violin, which combines various scale-based patterns with some new repeated note patterns. The distinctive ascending line of the original theme is reflected clearly in the first half of this variation, although the violin ornaments the original line heavily. The second half of the variation continues the high level of embellishment from both piano and violin, although the latter contributes some distinctive new motives as well.

The third variation moves to A minor and Beethoven takes full advantage of the enlarged harmonic palette that the shift in mode provides, visiting the key of C major frequently. Melodically, the variation owes its primary identity to the opening triadic motive of the theme, which it tends to alternate with cascading sixteenth-note triplets. The variation begins with the violin handling the most important melodic activities but, in the second half, the piano dominates, frequently ringing out the familiar triadic motive in octaves.

The fourth variation returns to A major and introduces a new, mildly syncopated accompaniment pattern in the piano, while the violin contributes a series of dolce melodic fragments. Eventually, another strong ascending melodic line emerges in the violin, tying it back securely to the original theme. This may also be among the most dynamically active of the variations; although it begins piano, there are a number of rapid crescendo-decrescendo patterns and a number of off-beat sforzandi. Nevertheless, the variation decrescendos to its conclusion and, after a fermata, ushers in a brief but effective coda. The coda is a fragile entity that provides a final, almost nostalgic glance back at the opening measures of the theme before ending quietly.

Movement III—Rondo

Allegro, D major, 6/8

The movement begins with an ascending major sixth, this time launching a sprightly refrain tune.

Ex. 55-A

The leap to the prominent appoggiatura in the second measure and the leap of a tenth in the sixth measure are clearly the most prominent features here, and make this one of Beethoven's more distinctive rondo refrains from his early chamber music.

After its presentation in the piano, the violin takes up the melody and presents it in near-identical form. Following this is a rather complex and at times quite interesting transition that makes use of a number of melodic fragments, starting with what appears to be a tag for the last bar of the refrain melody. It goes on to include a number of other motives, some of them quite catchy, but none that are developed to any great extent, except perhaps a violin motive that bounces around frequently between octaves. Transitions of this sort are expected to prepare the key of the dominant in which the first episode will be introduced, but this one moves through A minor and even F major briefly before settling into A major. The first episode is then presented in the violin (the first five measures of which are shown below.)

Ex. 55-B

The new theme is brief (8 bars), relying heavily on descending triads and octave leaps, and is quite simple harmonically, based only on supertonic, dominant and tonic chords. The episode is followed by a peculiar little four-bar transition that includes a little sentimental chromaticism and a fermata. Then we're back at the refrain.

The refrain begins normally enough with the melody in the piano, but when the violin joins in, the key shifts to D minor. After just four bars, a new idea is introduced with ascending scale patterns alternating with octave leaps. The key soon tilts toward F major and later F minor, settling back into F major (with an actual change in key signature) for the introduction of the second episode.

Ex. 55-C

The second episode is a fairly bland one, at least initially. After eight bars the violin states the theme up a step, beginning in G minor. But by the end of the statement, increasingly varied from the original, the theme has migrated cleverly to D minor. And Beethoven is just getting started. New motives are gradually introduced as we blend into a retransition. But this retransition is quite a bit more elaborate than the first, moving through A major and A minor and introducing a fascinating motivic interplay between violin and piano worthy of one of Beethoven's best early development sections.

Eventually the clever little transition plays itself out, the key signature changes back to D major, and we are brought back to the refrain. There's not much new in this version of the refrain, or in the transition that follows, although this time we never really leave the tonic key of D major. Episode three (or the "B'" in an A-B-A-C-A-B'-A form) is, as expected, a variant of the first episode, now appearing in D major. The retransition (presumably headed back to the refrain theme for the final time) is, however, severely modified and extended, and introduces some strong new elements, including a chromatically descending bass line that unfolds over several measures.

The final statement of the refrain theme is not complete; it appears (surprisingly) in E-flat major at first and quickly disintegrates into a free development of the appoggiatura motive originally appearing in measure 2. Finally back in A major, the first bar of episode two is also quoted and receives some play in both violin and piano.

Beethoven toys with a little tonality ambiguity in the final measures, created by the protracted use of an Italian sixth chord. But everything is clarified nicely in the last couple of bars and the movement ends with a crescendo along with a dramatically plunging scale line in the piano.

This little rondo represents, in some respects, the highlight of Beethoven's first violin sonata. But it is probably the least likely features of the movement—the transitions between the refrain and the various episodes—that are the most compelling. It is characteristic of the composer that he makes the effort to insert some original and compelling ideas into even those parts of a rondo form most likely to be thought of as generic and "merely formal."

Violin Sonata in A major, Op. 12, No. 2

Movement I

Allegro vivace, A major, 6/8

The first subject begins with a witty tune in a style that would within a few years be thought of as "Rossinian"—rhythmically catchy and beguiling in its simplicity. (The first four bars are shown in Ex. 56-A.) The theme, presented first by the piano, lurches gaily down the tonic triad for four bars, each chord tone decorated by its lower neighbor, while the violin provides a steady chordal accompaniment of eighth notes.

Ex. 56-A

The melody moves down the dominant seventh chord for the next four bars, this time ornamented by upper neighbor tones. After some energetic sixteenth-note passagework provides a link to a nifty little cadence figure, we return to the tonic. The next four bars shift the passagework to the violin (doubled in thirds by the piano) and the cadence motive is repeated.

The entire thematic statement begins to repeat, the melodic material split between violin and piano, but the passage is soon transformed into a modulatory transition which concludes not in the expected key of the dominant (A major) but its relative minor (f-sharp minor). Here, another simple but colorful little tune is introduced, starting on the fifth of the scale and proceeding up the melodic minor version of the key.

Ex. 56-B

The bump up from the F-sharp minor chord to the G major chord in the fourth measure is an especially attractive feature. and the immediate repetition of bar 4 is particularly evocative of Rossini's later style. The six-measure passage is then repeated in the piano, starting in G major but moving quickly to E minor. This time the "bump up" is to F major (which has a Neapolitan relationship to E) and it is just as effective the second time around. The second subject finally begins to head for E major—the key of the dominant and the "normal" key for a second subject, and, shortly thereafter, a clever little closing section motive is introduced.

Ex. 56-C

This new motive is bandied back and forth between violin and piano with regular off-beat sforzandi adding to the rhythmic impetus. But just when this dynamic interplay is at its liveliest, a bar of silence cuts off the closing section in mid-stream. There is some attempt to get the action back on track with the introduction of some rhythmically distinct sixteenth-note figures (See Ex. 56-D), but the volume is quite subdued at that point and soon gets even quieter. There is a burst of energy as the piano charges up the scale with a series of sweeping sixteenth notes, but even that is surprisingly stymied. What follows is a particularly dark codetta theme, played quietly in unison and octaves by piano and violin (Ex. 56-E).

Ex. 56-D & Ex. 56-E

Although this new theme is sequenced around a bit and the piano adds some interesting harmony beneath it, it still remains somewhat tonally vague. But the passage eventually grows louder and more confident and, at the last second, gives way to a little Rossinian cheerfulness as the exposition comes to a close. Still, there is no question that this is one of Beethoven's strangest codettas, and it is almost impossible to avoid the feeling that the rapid switches in mood and implied drama is more tongue-in-cheek than anything else.

The development section is fairly cursory. There is a little bit of a jolt when the exposition ends in E major and the development section starts in C major, but the development section soon settles into a somewhat predictable pattern of tossing about motives from the first subject. In fact, the entire section seems more like an extended retransition in a rondo form movement than a "proper" sonata form development. We do manage a modulation to the fairly remote key area of F major before almost immediately turning around and heading back to A major. But this section is short and, on the whole, not particularly eventful.

The recapitulation is a bit more interesting. It begins in typical fashion, bringing back the first subject in tonic, but the extension of the last two cadential bars of the first section pop up in D major and are subjected to a brief development. After a tricky little German sixth chord maneuvers us to F-sharp minor, the second subject returns in that key. But this time, after the bump up to G major, the key shifts to C major for a while, and then A minor and even (for four bars) B-flat major—again the Neapolitan relationship. The Neapolitan chord passes adroitly to E major and we are finally back to the original tonic of A major for the closing section.

The closing section proceeds mostly in A major and, as in the exposition, features a sudden break in the action and a measure of silence before the introduction of the sixteenth-note motive (Ex. 56-D). This is followed by the same, vaguely ominous minor key theme (Ex. 56-E) that once again seems to wander tonally. Eventually this theme begins to generate some dynamic and rhythmic momentum and clearly confirms the key of A major as we are launched into a coda.

The coda focuses on yet another development of the stuttering motives from the first subject (Ex. 56-A), and we soon encounter a staggering of the eighth-note pattern between the right and left hands of the piano that results in some clever rhythmic displacements. This is followed by an abridged return of the first subject in its original form and a somewhat coquettish—but surprisingly understated— conclusion.

Movement II

Andante, piu tosto Allegretto, A minor, 2/4

This movement is something of an enigma. There is a certain solemn dignity to the whole affair, and the opening theme is certainly an attractive one. But there is little or no development of it, or any other distinctive idea, and no consistent momentum is ever established. Still, the opening eight bars are quite compelling and seem to hold great promise.

Ex. 57

The violin takes up the melody for the next eight bars and the entire section ends on the tonic. A phrase modulation brings us immediately to C major and a new melody in the piano—really just a motivic fragment, a dotted-rhythm repetition of three notes from E down to C—is introduced. Following this brief foray into the relative major key (enlivened with a few strong-beat sforzandi), we immediately return to A minor via a free variant of the C major motive. The violin then takes its turn with the new theme and we move to a middle section in F major.

This new section is not a particularly inspired one, consisting most of ascending scale passages (in which both the B-flat and B-natural appear) heard first in the violin and then imitated in the piano. The eight-bar section cadences on C major, and then the whole process begins again with the piano taking the lead. This gives way to another eight-bar section based on a descending four-note scale motive traded back and forth between piano and violin and a circle of fifths harmonic progression that eventually cadences back in F major. This new section is similarly repeated, the violin now taking the lead.

After a brief modulatory extension of the previous section, we return to A minor and the initial theme, now embellished with an effective new violin countermelody. Once again the rather effective A minor theme gives way to the somewhat less effective melodic ideas accompanying the switch to C major, although some off-beat sforzandi and syncopated interlocking patterns between the violin and piano give this section more interest than in its initial appearance. Again, C major surrenders to A minor, and the phrase accompanying the transformation is repeated and varied several times. A somewhat halting version of the opening theme then reappears, as does the middle section (originally in F major but now in A minor), which serves as a short coda that brings the movement to a quiet close.

The movement is not without a sense of melancholy atmosphere, at least when the first theme or its echoes are present, but it is still difficult not to conclude that this slow movement is one that missed an opportunity to fulfill its potential.

Movement III

Allegro placevola, A major, 3/4

Possessed of attractive themes and a pleasing shape, this soft-spoken rondo is actually one of Beethoven's most endearing. The first theme is indeed "peaceful," beginning on a weak beat tied to a strong beat and moving gently up the A major triad before gradually descending.

Ex. 58-A

After the first phrase settles down on the dominant, the second rather unexpectedly goes to B minor. The violin enters in the next phrase and the initial melodic line repeats on the subdominant. The phrase that follows, mostly stepwise and split between the right and left hands of the piano, finally returns the key to the tonic. We stay in A major as the first phrase is repeated an octave higher in the piano with a simple but effective violin countermelody. Then a more forceful variant of the second phrase is heard again, once more in B minor. Following this, the third phrase comes back, again on the subdominant, the violin singing the melody an octave higher as well. Finally, a simple but elegant little cadential motive returns the key to A major as the refrain theme ends quietly.

The transition to the first episode begins robustly with an ascending A major triad covering two octaves. Piano and violin both present interlocking motives vaguely related to the little cadential motive that concluded the refrain. Those motives, in combination with the rising arpeggio figures enlivened by sforzandi, make for a fine transition, which arrives at the new key of E major about halfway through the process, but which then veers to E minor only in the last five measures.

The first episode is a rather restrained one, the piano and violin doubling a relatively slow-moving, but expressively lyrical melody over eighth-note arpeggios in the piano left hand.

Ex. 58-B

The melody begins its migration to the new key of G major already by the fourth measure, but it does not stay there long. The tune is repeated down a third (with the violin down an octave and the piano up an octave from its original configuration), starting in C major but moving quickly toward E major, the "correct" key for the first episode in a rondo in A major. The last two bars are extended to set up a more convincing cadence and, after that, we launch into the retransition, based on ascending eighth-note arpeggios similar to those found in the transition. Tagged on to these is a coy little four-bar preparation for the return of the refrain that literally fades into nothingness before the refrain theme is reintroduced.

The refrain melody, appearing intact and with no major surprises, yields to a brief transition based on the cadential motive referred to earlier and the second episode appears in D major.

Ex. 58-C

The first part of this theme resembles the first episode theme in style, but it is more stable harmonically, employing but a single chromatic chord (a vii diminished of V in bar 5-6). The piano accompaniment is also similar to that found in the first episode, although the left hand provides some surprising sforzandi against the dolce violin line, and a little melodic movement of its own. When the piano later picks up the main melody in octaves, the violin provides an even more vigorous countermelody.

The second part of the theme largely repeats the first part melodically, but goes farther afield tonally, at least temporarily, with a quick tonicization of E minor. Eventually, the theme is played out with repetitions of the quarter-note motive from bar 2, and we encounter what first appears to be a recurrence of the refrain melody in D minor, swelling to a dynamic peak on the dominant chord.

But it's just a bluff; what we've really encountered is a developmental extension of the previous episode. The cadential motive from the refrain has an important role to play here as well, quieting the music and providing some space before the first four bars of the refrain recur, this time in F major. Soon, however, few traces of the refrain melody remain, and we get a rather vigorous development of the cadential motive based on the last two bars only. This eventually heads toward E minor and where we hear a reintroduction of the ascending arpeggios that characterized the first transition and retransition, and these, along with a series of repeated staccato quarter notes, finally take us back to A major and the "real" refrain.

The refrain is dealt with in standard fashion, followed by the same transition. The first episode returns, varied as usual by its new key of A minor among other things. As in its initial appearance, the key center migrates somewhat, first to C major and then through a number of quick tonicizations before finally heading toward A major.

The retransition resembles the earlier ones, with a couple of silent measures again playing an important role in preparing for the return of the refrain. The final refrain is, not surprisingly, incomplete and introduces new chromatic elements, finally merging into a brief coda that features glimpses of the ascending eighth- note triplets from the first transition. While the coda doesn't provide any new insights into the thematic material it employs, it keeps the rhythmic interest up with its casual cross-rhythms and rounds off the movement, and the entire sonata, smoothly if undramatically.

Violin Sonata in E-flat major, Op. 12, No. 3

Movement I

Allegro con spirito, E-flat major, Common time (4/4)

The movement begins with swirling sixteenth-note arpeggios in the piano with sporadic doubling from the violin (Ex. 59-A). The consequent phrase presents a series of plaintive, lyrical responses built on a longer note followed by descending broken thirds, echoed back and forth between piano and violin (Ex. 59-B).

Ex. 59-A & B

This second motive carries the action for the next four bars until the transition is launched, all bustling sixteenth notes accompanied by double-stopped eighth notes in the violin. The transition goes through C minor and B-flat minor and peaks on a powerful augmented sixth chord before, almost at the last movement, introducing a lovely little phrase in B-flat minor, the spirit of which will return much later in the movement.

The second subject, heard first in the violin in the key of B-flat, is initially based on an ascending triad like the first, but the resemblance ends there; it follows a much more firmly etched line, immediately balancing the upward sweep with descending motion and later introducing some positively sinuous chromaticism.

Ex. 59-C

The piano, meanwhile, propels the action forward with an energetic (if surprisingly quiet) sixteenth-note pattern in the right hand and a slower-moving countermelody in the bass clef. The consequent phrase of the second subject, which gradually works its way down from F employing a catchy triplet figure along the way, moves temporarily to C minor, but returns to the dominant chord on F in plenty of time to prepare for the piano's statement of the theme.

Following a clearly signaled cadence, the closing section is introduced. Its sixteenth note triplets swirl around briskly around for a while before a distinctive new motive is introduced, a particularly catchy little idea notable for the rhythmic interplay between the two hands of the piano and some nifty chromatic motion (Ex. 59-D). But this clever little idea disappears quickly, yielding to a bustling series of sixteenth notes in the violin, replete with staccato note repetitions.

Ex. 59-D

The closing section concludes with a powerful descending line in the bass and an equally powerful cadence, leading into a relatively quiet but (once again) rhythmically nifty codetta, where brief motives in the right hand and left rise sequentially against an internal pedal (the repeated B-flats in the middle of the texture).

Ex. 59-E

The idea is developed for six bars before giving away to a more suitable preparation for the final cadence of the exposition—a flurry of ascending arpeggios and a series of descending broken thirds.

At first, the development section simply extends the arpeggios and broken thirds that concluded the exposition, whipping itself into something of a fortissimo frenzy in the process. But when the first distinctively thematic material occurs, it is the codetta motive (Ex. 59-E), which fulfills its earlier promise by generating an impressive little developmental episode. When it finally yields the floor, it does so to a short, yearningly lyrical motive that harkens back to the lovely little B-flat minor theme that arrived right before the second subject. This new idea does not match it in terms of intervallic details, but it exudes much of the same spirit and does a wonderful job of rather quietly switching the key from C-flat major (which itself had been rather cleverly arrived at only a few measures earlier) via an augmented sixth chord back to the original tonic of E-flat major for the recapitulation.

The recapitulation comes blustering through in a way that seems almost unnatural, given the subtleties that marked the last part of the development section. But, once established, it proceeds smoothly enough through its paces. Beethoven has by this time developed the ability to tweak the original modulatory transition in a way that allows it to do an absolutely lovely job of going absolutely nowhere (i.e., never really leaving the tonic key) and such is the case here. The virtuoso demands, particularly on the violinist, are once again considerable here, but it all seems reasonable enough in context, never a question of showing off for its own sake.

The second subject comes back in the tonic key in appropriate fashion, as do the closing section and codetta. Following the return of the codetta, there is a brief coda that doesn't really provide much of a novel nature, and the movement crescendos to a close.

Movement II

Adagio con molt' espressione, C major, 3/4

The stately and dignified opening theme of the slow movement may not perhaps be particularly remarkable in and of itself , but it is transformed impressively over the course of the movement, and the movement as a whole can be seen as a harbinger of some of the great Beethoven slow movements to come.

Ex. 60

The melody is characterized primarily by a series of slow-motion triadic leaps with off-beat accompaniment by the piano left hand and double-stopped eighth notes from the violin providing some rhythmic propulsion. After eight bars, the violin takes up the melody while the piano provides a somewhat more rhythmically active accompaniment. The first suggestion of movement away from this rather static state of affairs comes in the latter part of the violin's statement. Here, some pedal-based dissonance is introduced, providing a little tension and even a hint of foreboding. When the piano assumes the melody once again, more active accompaniment patterns in both the violin and piano left hand, along with a number of new trills and some chromatic movement, all suggest that we're moving toward a new goal. And we are in fact soon presented with both a new theme (played by the violin), and a new key, F minor, although it steals upon us gradually.

This "new" melody, is barely new at all, relying once again primarily on triadic leaps. After its initial presentation in F minor, we hear it immediately in A-flat major, and then D-flat major. The melody soon blossoms out into even nobler and more expansive phrases, its expressive power augmented by swelling crescendi and decrescendi. As we move toward E-flat minor, the melody builds impressively to a climax, which reaches its high point simultaneously with a deft modulation back to F minor, from which an augmented sixth chord allows us to slide back to C major.

Back in the initial tonic key, we return also to the initial melody, played by the piano in a somewhat more ornamented version and accompanied by quiet sixteenth-note arpeggios in the violin. This soon blends into the transition to a fairly lengthy coda that references the opening melody from time to time without fully quoting it. The coda is, in fact, a somewhat puzzling affair, alternating coquettish exchanges between violin and piano with some passages of intense urgency and tonal ambiguity. But, in the end, the music manages to recapture its original nobility (as well as its original tonic), before coming to a peaceful conclusion.

Movement III—Rondo

Allegro molto, E-flat major, 2/4

The refrain for this rondo is typically bright and high-spirited, based on a repeated bouncy rhythm. The melody for the first phrase marches up the first three degrees of the tonic scale and ends on dominant, while the closely related consequent phrase returns to tonic. (See Ex. 61-A.)

The violin picks up the melody in bar 9 while the piano accompanies it with sixteenth-note Alberti bass patterns. Following this, there is a brief transition to the middle of the refrain, an eight-bar section characterized by octave leaps and cascading dominant seventh chords. Then the first eight bars of the refrain repeat, the melody doubled in octaves by piano and violin.

Ex. 61-A

The transition to the first episode, which appears in B-flat major, is marked by strong dynamic contrasts and repeated rhythms borrowed from the opening bars of the refrain. The first episode itself is a jolly affair, its first two bars repeated twice more sequentially, first up a step and then up a fourth.

Ex. 61-B

This new theme, played initially by the violin before being handed over to the piano, is almost a little too similar to the refrain theme, but the harmony here is a bit more varied. The dominant in the second measure resolves not to a tonic chord, but a supertonic (ii) and from there to a mediant (iii). This is hardly ground-breaking in the broader scheme of things, but brings a nice injection of harmonic freshness and helps to give the episode a more singular personality.

The retransition is short and rather slight, although it features a descending three-note motive that will play an important role later on. The refrain theme, when it arrives, appears in a truncated version lacking the middle section. Immediately after the refrain cadences on tonic, we are launched into a new episode in E-flat minor, one that soon takes on the function of a development section as in a sonata rondo, not an unusual ploy for Beethoven.

Ex. 61-C

Once again sequences play a major role, not just from measure to measure but from one phrase to the next. Meanwhile, the violin provides fragments of a new countermelody, usually in contrary motion to the piano's motives. After fourteen bars, we have moved to G-flat major and a new, scalewise idea based on the fourth bar of the second episode is introduced. Eventually, the opening motives from Ex. 61-C return in more or less their original form and are sequenced about at length, eventually moving to B-flat minor. Although not without interest, this entire episode probably goes on a little longer than it deserves to, but we eventually merge into a retransition that takes us back to the refrain, the piano melody accompanied now by vigorous arpeggio-based accompaniment figures in the violin. But, once again, the middle section of the refrain is omitted and before long we are back to episode one, returning this time in the original tonic of E-flat major.

A slightly extended version of the original retransition recurs, followed by the refrain, which comes back for the last time, albeit in a new guise. Accompanied by inversions of the three-note descending motives from the original transition, the piano presents the first four bars of the refrain melody, which are immediately imitated at the fifth by the violin. This imitation breaks off fairly quickly, but the texture remains busy for some time. Overlapping stretto-like entries of the opening bars soon re-emerge over a dominant pedal, and even as we cross over into the coda, the rhythm of the opening bars of the refrain melody continue to anchor the texture, usually in the form of a reiterated pedal on the tonic, right up to the last bar of the movement.

This is a rondo of good-natured charm and may well constitute the highlight of this particular violin sonata. Typical of most of the movements in the early violin sonatas, it is full of appealing moments, even if not completely convincing from beginning to end.

A note on sources:

The early sonatas are discussed thoroughly in Lewis Lockwood, The Beethoven Violin Sonatas: History, Criticism, Performance (University of Illinois Press, 2004) and Max Rostel, Beethoven: The Sonatas for Piano and Violin (Toccata Press, 1985).

Chapter 10

Chamber Works with Winds

It is not unusual for historians and critics to characterize Beethoven's chamber works for wind instruments as "lighter" or "social" works, somewhat less worthy of attention than the chamber works for strings. It is true, of course, that a fair amount of the music written primarily for winds in the later eighteenth century was composed specifically for outdoor performance (where wind instruments would presumably carry better than the more dignified string instruments) or as background music for social events. This includes many works described as serenades (a genre often associated with winds) or divertimenti, but is not limited to these. Some of the slightly more modest aristocratic houses in Vienna were known to carry small bands of wind players specifically for the purpose of providing what at times amounted to no more than background music.

Some of the works to be discussed below fall into this category to some extent; others do not. In some cases the movements are a little shorter, the themes a bit simpler and more repetitive, the harmony a little less adventurous etc., but it's important to remember that Beethoven retained his standards regardless of the genre in which he was working. And while he eventually lost his enthusiasm for producing wind-dominated works (often, in later years, publishing his earlier works for winds only to deal with temporary cash-flow problems), these works, most of which were composed in the mid- and late-1790s, remain fine works, amply supplied with expressive qualities of the most admirable sort and by no means devoid of clever subtleties and surprises.

Trio in C major for Two Oboes and English Horn, Op. 87

This is certainly an unusual combination of instruments, although in 1793 Beethoven had purportedly heard a piece for the same combination at a benefit concert and may have found the sonority too novel to resist. He composed the work in 1794 or 1795, although it was not published until 1806. Almost certainly written for amateurs, it is nevertheless remarkable for the fullness of sonority and variety of textures he achieves with what would seem to be an unusually limited palette. (This work has also been arranged for a wide variety of other instrumental combinations ranging from two violins and a viola to three B-flat clarinets.)

Movement I

Allegro, C major, Common time (4/4)

The first movement is a fairly lengthy, fully developed sonata form, which is abounding in attractive nuances, especially harmonic ones.

After a two-bar introduction announces the beginning of the movement with a polite tonic chord, the English horn introduces a little march-like motive which is quickly imitated by the first oboe at the octave, after which all three parts join in for a more lyrical ascending line harmonized by tonic and dominant chords. (See Ex, 62-A.)

A series of sequences follow, with the fourth measure being separated off and treated as an independent motive. The theme eventually loses it character, replaced by a series of more neutral scale passages. When the theme is re-asserted, it is in an attractively varied form with the dotted eighth and sixteenth-note patterns taking on an even larger role.

Ex. 62-A

More snatches of imitation present themselves as we move temporarily to G minor and, after a transitional passage, we are introduced to the second, more lyrical subject in G major.

Ex. 62-B

This is presented in a homophonic context initially, but when it repeats, beginning with the English horn, the theme is subject to overlapping imitation by the first oboe, while the second oboe adds a rhythmically distinctive counterpoint, the result of which are some very effective (albeit brief) syncopations and dissonant suspensions.

The closing section is of greatest interest for its unusual key, beginning in E-flat major, although working its way back to G major fairly quickly. The codetta, basically a two-bar theme related to the latter part of the first subject, does its job smoothly and sets up some nice, if unexpected, hesitations in the rhythm flow. But the dotted rhythms from the first subject recur in the last few measures and the exposition marches off to an energetic conclusion.

The development section begins in G major but does not stay there long. Initially, the opening bars of the first subject dominate as we move first through A minor, F major (very quickly) and then G minor. The opening bar from the first subject is treated sequentially again and again, modulating freely in the process. Eventually the second subject makes an appearance, complete with the attractive syncopations and suspensions from its second appearance.

This gives way to a somewhat less interesting series of scalewise passages (derived in part from the closing section), after which the opening bars of the first subject are quoted again, prolonging a dominant seventh on G to prepare us for C major and the recapitulation.

The recapitulation fails to offer much in the way of novelty, although the first subject is quoted in a variant replete with chromatic lower neighbor tones. Everything proceeds normally through the coda, which dutifully quotes the opening bars of the first subject and takes the movement to a quiet, but rather jaunty conclusion with the martial rhythms carried on to the very end.

Movement II

Adagio, F major, 3/4

The slow movement begins with a very placid melody that starts by circulating casually around the fifth scale degree before moving gently down the scale. Dotted rhythms are very much in evidence as in the first movement, although the effect at the slower tempo is much more languid. The melody, which has been praised by some commentators as one of Beethoven's finest in the early chamber works, unfolds rather sedately over mostly tonic and dominant chords until a little tension is introduced by the insertion of a vii diminished of the submediant (vi) in the fifth measure. Thereafter, a number of chromatic "sighing" figures provide most of this interest for what is otherwise a straightforward if pleasantly lyrical movement in which the English horn is given a fair amount of soloistic activity, frequently in the form of sixteenth-note scale passages.

Movement III—Menuetto

Allegro molto. Scherzo, C major, 3/4

This is a rather simple minuet, which the tempo indication and "Scherzo" designation suggests should be played somewhat faster than usual.

The form is typical: both the minuet section and trio sections are in rounded binary form, and there is a brief coda that is mostly a rehashing of the first eight bars of the movement.

Melodically, the movement is straightforward to a fault; skyrocketing triads followed by descending scale passages dominate in the Menuetto. The harmony is simple and predictable with a hint of harmonic novelty coming near the end of the minuet's middle section.

The trio is of interest as an example of one of Beethoven's repeated-note melodies (this time reiterating the third of the tonic chord) that sets up more interesting motion to come. In this case, the repeated notes are combined with some interesting cross-rhythms and rapid crescendi and decrescendi that add significantly to the energy level at the beginning of the trio.

The repeated notes and cross-rhythms are continued in the middle section of the trio, which provides some welcome hints of tonal variety with its quick tonicizations of other key areas.

Movement IV—Finale

Presto, C major, 2/4

This is a rambunctious and good-humored little rondo (in which some commentators have heard the influence of Haydn more than Mozart) that makes up in rhythmic energy what it lacks in melodic sophistication. The refrain theme is simple but effective, relying on repeated upper neighbor figures and balancing descending (initially) and ascending motion skillfully in the first half, while offering some variety of articulation patterns in the second.

The first episode is heard in the relative minor (A minor) rather than the more typical key of the dominant, and provides some nice rhythmic contrast with its stop-and-start and off-beat rhythms. The middle section of the first episode is unusual for its length—more than twice the length of the first part of the theme—but is not otherwise notable, being little more than a series of eighth-note triplets in scalewise or triadic configuration and introducing no harmonic novelty.

The refrain returns in due course, but only the first sixteen bars of it (leaving out the second part altogether). The second episode that follows provides some nice contrast. Although based primarily on an ascending triad in half notes after a quicker anacrusis, this new thematic idea is subject to some pervasive imitation. The theme is introduced in the English horn and taken up quickly thereafter by both the second and first oboes. After a series of languid half-note chords, the imitation is re-introduced (after a slight modification in the theme), the whole section carrying on for longer than one might expect.

After a brief retransition, the opening refrain theme returns, but this time it is followed by a considerable passage of eighth-note triplets quite similar to the one originally encountered in the middle of the first episode, standing in (apparently) for the return of that episode.

The refrain theme never returns in full. It is referenced handily (especially the third bar), but never seems to accumulate enough energy to make a full statement. A cheerful little coda doesn't contribute much to the proceedings, but manages to close the movement with a burst of energy.

Sextet in E-flat major for Two Horns, Two Violins, Viola and Cello, Op. 81b

It has often been suggested that the horn was Beethoven's favorite wind instrument and there's no question that the two horns dominates this sextet, composed in 1795, probably for entertainment at a Viennese court. The horns, usually "hunting in pairs" as one commentator put it, are given plenty of opportunities to ply their traditional "horn call" motives, but are also treated with a lyrical sensitivity reminiscent of some of Mozart's great works for the instrument.

There is an early edition of this work with an indicated double bass part, which primarily doubles the cello. Later editions (including those edited by the composer himself) omit the double bass.

Movement I

Allegro con brio, E-flat major, Common time

The movement begins with vigorous, multiple-stopped chords in the strings announcing the tonic of E-flat. But it's the horns that present the larger share of the first subject. The horns answer the opening string salvo with a series of short, sequentially repeated phrases employing the famous "horn fifth" quality (i.e., with the harmony primarily expressed in thirds and open fifths).

Ex. 63-A

As the horns sustain whole notes, the viola and cello reply with a more sinuous line in measures 4 and 5, and the horns themselves conclude the passage with a more lyrical gesture in measure 6, one that is subsequently repeated by the first violin.

This opening statement of the first subject is followed by a transitional section in which the horns and violins alternate typical fanfare-like triadic motives and rapid scale lines respectively. As the transition continues, the second and first horns take turns launching virtuoso figures—sixteenth-note arpeggios or scale lines—before the first horn introduces a pleasantly lyrical new tune that soon disappears amidst as series of cadences in the new key of B-flat major.

The more lyrical second subject is also presented by the horns, the first and second alternating overlapping two-bar phrases.

Ex. 63-B

The closing section is based largely on a series of cascading scale lines, but also allows for some more rapid passage work from the horns. The codetta is, perhaps, a little more distinctive, with the horns exchanging syncopated motives and some accented diminished chords over the tonic pedal adding a hint of harmonic intensity.

The development section begins in the unusual key of G-flat major and introduces a very attractive new melody in the first horn (although its use of repeated notes harkens back to the first subject). Many aspects of this sextet evoke Mozart and none more than the notion of introducing a lovely new lyrical theme early in the development section. This new theme is picked up subsequently by the viola and cello (and in somewhat truncated form by the first violin). As the development section proceeds, motives from the second subject also make an appearance.

After a long prolongation of the dominant of E-flat major climaxing with a sforzando fermata, the recapitulation begins. It follows the typical format and closes with a brief coda that gives another backward glance at the first subject, provides a few flashes of drama, and then concludes stoutly on a fortissimo chord.

Movement II

Adagio, A-flat major, 2/4

The Adagio begins with a lovely melody with just a hint of sentimentality. The first horn is elegantly harmonized by the second with minimal support from the cello and, later, the other strings.

Ex. 64-A

The second four-bar phrase touches on F minor and the third, which ascends up to a D-flat for its melodic peak before gradually descending, provides suitable contrast. The fourth phrase is a variant of the first, split between the horns and strings.

After cadencing on A-flat, a new theme is presented, one notable for its gentle syncopations, underlined by the first sf marking in the movement.

Ex. 64-B

The theme moves to F minor for its second phrase and, as the passage proceeds, introduces some overlapping, sustained dissonances between the two horns as well as a series of secondary dominant chords that temporarily expand the tonality. A few measures later, a fortissimo outburst reaffirms the key of F minor and the music pauses on a half cadence on its dominant.

After a chromatic modulation brought about by a two-measure linking passage in the first horn, we return to the original theme in A-flat major. The fourth phrase of the theme is heard in the first violin, accompanied by vigorous sixteenth-note arpeggios in the second. A lovely new descending phrase in the first horn escorts us to the coda, which brings the movement to a pianissimo close.

Movement III—Rondo

Allegro, E-flat major, 6/8

Although lacking the finesse of the slow movement, the finale is nevertheless a perky movement that exploits the natural assets of the horns brilliantly. The opening refrain features the two horns trading off typical fanfare motives.

Ex. 65-A

After eight bars, the first violin presents a mildly contrasting phrase that concludes with a fermata on the dominant seventh chord. This is followed by a transition that continues the triadic motives in the first and second violins, while mixing in some augmented secondary dominant chords tilting toward the subdominant (A-flat major). But, after a series of scurrying sixteenth-note scale passages in the violins, we cadence on the original tonic of E-flat major.

This is followed by a new passage of eight measures, one that again features the traditional "horn fifth" style (the two horns playing primarily in thirds and open fifths) but remains in the key of E-flat. The end of this passage cadences in B-flat major, however, preparing the way for the first episode to begin in that key. The theme for this episode, somewhat gentler in nature, is given to the first violin, with the second violin and viola playing off-beat rhythmic figures for accompaniment.

Ex. 65-B

After eight bars, the first horn takes over the melody, accompanied by rather frenetic sixteenth-note arpeggios from the second horn. This is followed by a passage that cleverly feints a modulation to D-flat major but, in the end, closes in B-flat. Here, the first violin indulges in a brief developmental passage that exploits the first two bars of the refrain theme. This makes a particularly effective retransition passage back to the original tonic of E-flat and the recurrence of the refrain. The refrain returns with the two horns once again alternating phrases, but the theme is cut short this time, giving way to another transition, similar to the first in its use of augmented secondary dominant chords and sixteenth-note scale passages.

The second episode then appears in E-flat minor. It is a vigorous one that contrasts dramatically to everything that came before it.

Ex. 65-C

The cello and viola take the lead here, later alternating phrases with the first violin. The horns play a relatively small role at first, but later provide some brief contrasting phrases. The original theme returns three times and, after a repeated cadential tag, closes on a fermata on a B-flat major chord.

This naturally launches us back to the original refrain, which occurs in its complete form this time. But Beethoven dispenses with the transition that originally followed the refrain, and we proceed directly to a slightly altered version of the first episode again, the melody once again shared between the first violin and first horn in the key of E-flat. After another modulatory feint, we stay in E-flat and the refrain is brought back for the final time. Its personality has been transformed somewhat this time around; the theme appears in the first violin, somewhat altered by the appearance of a dramatic descending chromatic line in the lower range of the second horn, doubled by the cello. Although this dramatic descending line adds a level of intensity not found in the original refrain, it is short-lived. The abbreviated refrain yields to a much gentler coda in which we hear some "nostalgic" horn fifths for the last time. The familiar triadic fanfare motives also return and, accompanied by some scampering sixteenth-note arpgeggios in the violins, bring the movement to its close.

Sextet in E-flat major for Two Clarinets, Two Bassoons and Two Horns, Op. 71

Although Beethoven's works were generally composed for a specific context (usually a social event), the Op. 71 Sextet, composed in 1796, waited several years for its first performance, appearing before the public only in 1805 in a benefit concert for Beethoven's friend Ignaz Schuppanzigh. It was a few years after that when the work was actually published, although it was not unusual for Beethoven to hold off on publishing works he considered "occasional," or in a lighter style. The work is again in E-flat major, a particularly convenient key for writing for winds.

Movement I

Adagio, E-flat major, Common time

Allegro, 3/4

The first movement slow introduction begins rather formally with dotted-rhythm figures outlining the tonic triad in unison and octaves played by all six instruments. The opening triads are followed by a series of brief descending motives in the clarinets, opposed by contrasting motion in the bassoons. A series of off-beat sforzandi contribute a bit of rhythmic energy, but the overall mood is more stately than dynamic, and the introduction concludes with an arpeggiation of the dominant chord to prepare for the Allegro section to come.

The Allegro section naturally employs much livelier rhythms for the first subject, although triadic outlines (descending as well as ascending) are still very much in evidence.

Ex. 66-A

The first clarinet plays alone for the first three measures, but is joined by the second and first bassoon in the fourth bar. The first eight measures close on the dominant and the tune is immediately started up again, this time with everyone joining in. After four bars, the first clarinet is alone with the melody with most of the other instruments lapsing into accompaniment status. After a sizzling little triadic arpeggio in the first clarinet, we move to the modulatory transition. It's an attractive one, much of it anchored by pumping octaves on tonic by the second horn. Some of the rhythmic figures associated with the first subject make another appearance here, but there are some attractive new phrases as well, the most notable of which are introduced in the first clarinet but quickly picked up by the entire ensemble.

The texture thins down for the beginning of the second subject in the traditional key of B-flat major. The new theme is heard initially in the first bassoon and accompanied in thirds by the second bassoon with minimal support from the horns.

Ex. 66-B

By measure 5 the bassoons have yielded to the clarinets, although the first bassoon continues along with an effective countermelody in contrary motion. As the second subject proceeds, we encounter a strong new motive, its rhythm borrowed from one in the modulatory transition but appearing here with a strong melodic contour.

Ex. 66-C

The actual closing section is less remarkable on the whole, but contributes an impressive crescendo that climaxes on a German sixth chord resolving to a dominant seventh. We then hear some dazzling passagework from the first clarinet—scale lines and triplet arpeggios—until we arrive at the codetta. At that point we encounter another charming little tune, based to some degree on the rhythm from the first subject, but with stepwise motion rather than triadic. The exposition ends quietly fourteen measures later.

The development section begins in B-flat major but moves quickly to C minor, alternating references to the first bar of the first subject (primarily in first clarinet and first bassoon) with staccato scale patterns. As the development proceeds through a series of closely related keys, the rhythmic and melodic components of the first subject are often treated separately, the first clarinet delivering lyrical phrases based on descending triads while the second focuses on repeating the rhythm of the initial first-measure motive.

Eventually, motives from the second subject also make an appearance, after which a series of rapid ascending scales alternating between first bassoon and first clarinet take center stage. The development section is soon brought to a close by a long descending scale in eighth-note triplets from the solo first clarinet and a fermata on a B-flat dominant seventh chord.

There are few significant changes in the recapitulation. The transition from the second subject is extended with its strong rhythmic figures (see Ex. 66-C) more fully exploited, and the coda revisits the first subject one last time before going on its cheerful way to the final measures. These last measures bluster briefly with some last fortissimo references to the first subject but end quietly.

Movement II

Adagio, B-flat major, 2/4

The slow movement begins with a simple theme played by the first bassoon—an ascending arpeggio followed by descending scale fragments over tonic and dominant chords—that holds up well to the multiple repetitions to which it's subject.

Ex. 67

The theme, which becomes more ornate as it proceeds, is provided minimal accompaniment at first. The situation changes when the melody is repeated by the clarinets in octaves beginning in bar 9; the first bassoon now adds clever little asides to the melody while the second provides a more energetic flow of sixteenth-note arpeggios for harmonic support.

By the end of the second eight bars, the original key of B-flat major has been undermined and the new key of F major has been established in time for the second main theme, delivered again by the first bassoon. Considerably more ornate than the first with expansive arpeggios and thirty-second note scale fragments, the bassoon trades phrases with the first clarinet and the two sometimes join in a pleasant duet. Even the second clarinet contributes to the conversation periodically with attractive countermelodies. Accompaniment from the horns and second bassoon remains minimal for the most part, but the second bassoon occasionally finds the opportunity for more active contributions.

When the first theme returns in B-flat major in the first bassoon, it is now the clarinet that bestows its commentary, and it does so very effectively for the first four measures. The second phrase sees a continued interplay between first bassoon and first clarinet with the second clarinet now providing the arpeggio accompaniment. The eight-bar melody then repeats, heard in octaves in the clarinets with the bassoon once again providing graceful interjections and the second bassoon providing the Alberti bass accompaniment. Both clarinets and first bassoon get increasingly busy with alternating and accompanying thirty-second note scale passages as we approach the coda, which introduces a new idea, but one somewhat related to the earlier figuration patterns. The new melody continues to unfold over a reiterated tonic pedal and the movement remains graceful and charming to its conclusion.

Movement III—Menuetto

Quasi Allegretto, E-flat major, 3/4

This is a rather an old-fashioned, rustic minuet (not an uncommon type in Beethoven's "lighter" works for winds) that employs the simplest of melodies, shared between the horns and the clarinets.

Ex. 68

The horns then begin the same motive on dominant, but they're answered this time by a more complex passage, one that introduces both chromatic lower neighbors and across-the-bar ties as it cleverly extends the phrase for an additional four bars. This is just one of many examples in Beethoven's relatively simple "social" works where he delights in taking straightforward, even basic thematic ideas and manipulating them in in subtle ways.

The section half of the Menuetto employs the same basic motive, but it is now interspersed with a number of cascading scale passages in the clarinets. The horns play a less conspicuous thematic role here, but still make important contributions from time to time.

The Trio, in which the horns play no role, is exceedingly clever. The first eight-bar section employs a mildly syncopated little tune with weak-beat accents that is subject to canonic imitation between the clarinets and (partially) the first bassoon. The second section begins in a bluntly homophonic texture, but motives are tossed about blithely and the original imitation at the octave comes back in time to round off the section.

Movement IV—Rondo

Allegro, E-flat major, Alla breve

This is a conventional, but spirited little rondo movement with three contrasting episodes. The refrain-theme is a march-like affair, arranged in rather predictable two-measure phrases with dotted rhythms in abundance.

Ex. 69-A

The second four bars repeat the first four with slight variation, but the third phrase provides some mild contrast, mixing in some legato eighth-note scale passages. The final phrase of the refrain brings back the first four bars, but a little more rhythmic tension is now in evidence as the eighth-note triplet arpeggios in the second clarinet play off against the dotted eighth and sixteenth rhythms heard elsewhere in the texture.

The first episode, still in E-flat major, presents a more elegant, flowing theme heard in the first clarinet.

Ex. 69-B

This is accompanied by (and later alternated with) a series of eighth-note triplets in the second clarinet and first bassoon, the second bassoon providing a bass line that is cunningly displaced from time to time. Even the first clarinet picks up the eighth-note triplets eventually, but they are soon replaced by a return of the initial four-bar phrase.

After the briefest of retransitions, the refrain recurs and, after just eight measures, plunges into the second episode in C minor, a forceful and even slightly ominous march-like theme.

Ex. 69-C

After eight bars a contrasting passage of eighth-note triplets intervenes in which first and second clarinets and first bassoon all take their turns. Then the march theme returns fortissimo and the episode draws to a quick close.

A two-measure solo clarinet passage provides the only retransition and, once again, the refrain is upon us. After running its course, it gives way to yet another episode, yielding a form for the movement of A (refrain theme)—B (episode 1)—A—C (episode 2)—A—D (episode 3)—A—coda. For many of Beethoven's rondos, the third episode is actually just a varied repetition of the first. But here there are three quite separate and distinct episodes, the third contrasting dramatically with the others not only in its key (A-flat major) but in its employment of a broad, slowly unfolding melody expressed mostly in half notes. This is presented by the second clarinet and harmonized by the two horns, while the first clarinet provides some rhythmic impetus with its off-beat eighth-note accompaniment pattern, played for the most part, above the second clarinet's melody.

After twenty measures and a two-bar linking phrase (once again in the first clarinet), the refrain returns for the final time. After its completion and a brief extension in C minor based on the first bar of the refrain, we arrive at the coda. Not surprisingly it presents a final glance at the refrain melody with a more highly ornamented version of the first two bars and a brief bit of imitation between the first clarinet and first bassoon. The dotted rhythms of the refrain melody intermingle with eighth-note triplets in the accompaniment (including some vigorous triadic outbursts from the two horns), providing perhaps the most pleasingly diverse texture of the entire movement. The conclusion hints at a "march fading into the distance" scenario, but at the last minute all six instruments combine for a fortissimo conclusion.

Quintet in E-flat major for Piano, Oboe, Clarinet, Horn and Bassoon, Op. 16

Composed in 1796, this is certainly among the most ambitious of Beethoven's early chamber works. It displays several examples of "concerto-like" relationships between the piano and woodwinds, and even gives some limited opportunities for cadenza-like improvisation for the pianist. Some commentators have seen this work as looking ahead not only to Beethoven's later piano concertos, but even his symphonic writing. The relationship between Beethoven's quintet and Mozart's quintet, K. 452, for the same unusual instrumentation and in the same key, has often been commented on as well. It has been widely assumed that Beethoven modeled his work after Mozart's, written several years earlier in 1784. That work had not been published when Beethoven began work on his quintet, but it is generally assumed that he was able to secure a score for Mozart's composition through a common friend. Nevertheless, there is some disagreement as to the extent that actual "modeling" took place. Some historians have noted similarities in terms of motives and melodic shapes between the two works while others have claimed that there are few specific similarities. Donald Tovey, a noted Beethoven scholar writing in the 1940s, takes it for granted that Mozart's quintet excerpted a strong influence on Beethoven's but expresses the view that Beethoven's work comes out poorly in any comparison.

In the Quintet for pianoforte and wind instruments, Op. 16, Beethoven is, indeed, obviously setting himself in rivalry with Mozart's Quintet for the same combination; but if you want to realize the difference between the highest art of classical composition and the easy-going, safety-first product of a silver age, you cannot find a better illustration than these two works, and it is Mozart who is the classic and Beethoven who is something less.

Tovey's remarks notwithstanding, the Beethoven quintet has proven to be one of his more popular early chamber works with skillfully written parts all around.

Movement I

Grave, E-flat major, Common time

Allegro, ma non troppo, 3/4

The slow introduction begins with a very formal gesture, all five instruments marching up and down the tonic triad in double-dotted rhythms, played in unison and octaves.

Ex. 70-A

This initial phrase is answered by swirling piano arpeggios on the dominant seventh chord, followed by a more lyrical and "affective" phrase tonicizing the submediant (C minor) before heading back to tonic. Watson perceptively sees the alternation of severe triadic figures with more poignant lyrical phrases as a key element in the introduction, one that is played out in a number of ways in the Allegro section as well.

The introduction proceeds in this fashion for several measures, the piano and wind instruments sometimes joining forces and sometimes alternating phrases. The harmony is quite conservative for the most part, although an unexpected secondary dominant seventh chord on G sends the music off once again in the direction of C minor and B-flat minor as bassoon, oboe and clarinet chase each other around with similar phrases. A new series of staccato sixteenth notes are heard, alternately, in all five instruments as the original tonic of E-flat major is re-established and the introduction comes to an end on a dominant seventh.

The Allegro ma non troppo section begins with a first subject that, if unremarkable, is perfectly serviceable. (See Ex. 70-B.)

The second eight bars of the theme are a bit more adventurous harmonically, moving briefly to C minor with some accented dissonances along the way. The phrase peaks on a high D before making its way down the octave on an eighth-note scale.

Ex. 70-B

At that point, the clarinet enters with the melody accompanied by a simplified piano part and some sustained chords from the other winds. Eventually the flute joins with the clarinet melody an octave higher and the passage segues into the modulatory transition. This sports an attractive new theme that is linked to the first subject through its opening major sixth interval and its general shape.

Ex. 70-C

Bassoon and (later) flute join in with overlapping versions of the same phrase and the piano, which has increased the rhythmic momentum of the transition by switching its accompaniment pattern to eighth-note triplets, also joins in with a melodic statement of its own in octaves. But the piano then takes off on its own, developing the descending scale motive, and spinning its way quickly through various tonal centers on its way (ultimately) to the key of B-flat major.

The second subject is also presented first in the piano.

Ex. 70-D

Harmonically, it is only slightly more elaborate than the first, with its tonicization of the relative minor (G minor) in its first four bars. Following the piano's presentation, the clarinet picks up the new theme, accompanied quite elegantly by bassoon, horn and flute. Meanwhile, the level of rhythmic activity in the piano accompaniment has again increased, with triplet-based figures in the pianist's right hand against eighth-note octave leaps in the left.

After a repeated cadential tag, we are presented with the closing section, marked by an emphatic cadence and a long series of staccato eighth notes in the piano accompaniment. The melodic contributions of the winds are minimal at this point, and the piano dominates with, among other things, a four-bar solo passage of eighth-note triplets that prepares another cadence.

This new cadence introduces the codetta and an excellent one it is, presenting yet another lyrical new theme, played in octaves by bassoon and clarinet and a little later by the piano.

Ex. 70-E

This leads, after a series of eighth-note triplets from the piano, quite smoothly to the final, fortissimo cadence of the exposition.

The development section again begins where the exposition left off, a series of fortissimo triplets in the piano ascending up the scale. Not surprisingly, the G major chord turns out to be the dominant of C minor, which is soon revealed as the development section's first tonal goal. Even before the new tonic arrives, the oboe has quietly re-introduced the first two bars of the lyrical codetta theme, which is soon picked up by the bassoon as well. Eventually, both the clarinet and horn contribute to the now-overlapping and expanding phrases and, after a general crescendo and a modulation to A-flat major, the first eight bars of the first subject theme are heard in the piano in the new key. The second eight are taken over by the winds, which expand the theme sequentially, heading it toward F minor. Meanwhile, an eighth-note triplet figure that had been introduced in the piano a few measure earlier now dominates the listener's attention with its sf accents. A series of German sixth chords resolving to the dominant of B-flat major, and an elaborately embellished ascending scale in the piano, prepare us for the recapitulation.

The recapitulation follows standard procedures for the most part, sharing the second half of the first subject quite effectively between piano and winds. The second subject is shared primarily between oboe and clarinet, but the bassoon adds an effective countermelody along the way. Closing section and codetta proceed as usual, but the coda plunges the key abruptly into D-flat major. The dominant in that key—A-flat major—is skillfully transformed into a German sixth chord that resolves to a dominant seventh on B-flat, at which point a miniature cadenza is provided for the pianist. Following the cadenza, and a return to the original tonic of E-flat major, we encounter something of a surprise—the theme from the modulatory transition (Ex. 70-C). The theme is extended through a series of tonicizations and bolstered with several weak-beat sf accents before finally settling down on the dominant, right after the horn rips through a series of frenzied arpeggios.

The piano then introduces an ascending series of broken thirds, answered by ascending scale lines passed from bassoon to clarinet to oboe. But the piano again asserts his dominance with one of its most dynamic gestures in the entire movement—a long, fortissimo ascending chromatic line that peaks on a held dominant chord.

But we are not quite finished. The music quiets again, and the opening bars of the first subject are heard for the last time against a trilled E-flat, high in the piano's range. The whole passage crescendos over eight measures to a triumphant final cadence.

Movement II

Andante Cantabile, B-flat major, 2/4

The slow movement is in the form of a short rondo—A-B-A-C-A+coda. Watson describes the first theme as "tender" and there is no better description. And yet the basic musical materials are, once again, quite simple.

Ex. 71-A

The second four bars expand the melodic line up to a high D before the melody descends to a cadence on dominant. The winds then take over: a variant of the melody is assigned to the clarinet with oboe, bassoon and even horn contributing lush countermelodies. The piano sustains the rhythmic energy with a series of sixteenth-note Alberti bass patterns.

After a total of twelve bars, there is a cadence on the tonic, and this is followed immediately by the first episode in G minor, the melody assigned to the oboe.

Ex. 71-B

Once again the materials are basic, but the contrast is timely and the melody, as it later unfolds in the bassoon, provides rich material for variation. The melody is extended as we move quickly (and creatively) through some closely related key areas with the winds all contributing overlapping melodic phrases of great beauty. We eventually move back to G minor and from there to F major, preparing for a return to the original tonic, although it's B-flat minor that shows its head first. Once B-flat major has been securely established, the piano returns with a luxuriously pianistic variation of the refrain melody, followed by a more conservative version of the tune from the combined winds.

This eventually gives way to the second episode in B-flat minor, which features an atmospheric new melody played by the horn with only piano accompaniment. The horn melody manages to bring about a modulation to D-flat major after just three bars, and the rest of the winds enter in time to bring about a graceful cadence. The horn returns with a variant of its original melody, and the key finally makes its way back to B-flat major, ably assisted by rapid arpeggios over a repeated dominant pedal in the piano.

Another beautifully embellished version of the refrain melody ensues, aided by elegant comments from the winds, with the clarinet eventually taking charge of the melody.

The coda adds some new effects of rhythm and articulation in the piano along with some lovely lyrical contributions from the winds. At one point the piano thunders to a huge fortissimo climax, only to die away demurely and end the movement with a series of delicate sixteenth notes in consort with bassoon, clarinet and oboe.

Movement III—Rondo

Allegro, ma non troppo, E-flat major, 6/8

The rondo refrain is a lively one, although it unfolds in rather predictable fashion. The piano states the theme alone, cadencing on the dominant in bar 4 and on the tonic four bars after that. The harmony is simple enough, although Beethoven does employ a couple of dissonances and augmented chords to useful effect.

Ex. 72-A

After the initial eight-bar presentation, the winds join in, modifying the second phrase and adding a repeated cadential tag a couple of times before bringing the refrain to a close.

After a modest transition in which the piano takes the lead with a series of flowing sixteenth-note scales, the first episode is introduced in B-flat major. It does not offer much rhythmic variety, with the clarinet and bassoon rocking gently up and down the tonic and dominant triads in predictable fashion. There are some nice exchanges between the winds and piano, and eventually a second theme is introduced in the piano, basically a two-bar phrase that begins by bounding upward an octave and a half before gradually descending. This new theme is soon picked up by the winds, who toss it around cheerfully for a while, gradually making their way back to the tonic for the return of the refrain.

Before the refrain returns, however, Beethoven provides another cadenza-like opportunity for the pianist after a fermata on the dominant chord. Ferdinand Ries reported that, on the premier of the piece in April, 1797, with Beethoven as pianist, the composer took full advantage of the opportunity with a pianistic flight of fancy better suited to the cadenza of a true concerto. According to Ries, not all of Beethoven's fellow performers were pleased with the result.

Immediately after the cadenza-like section (whether modest or ambitious), the refrain enters immediately in more or less its original form in the original tonic of E-flat major. However, it soon veers into E-flat minor, where a variant of the original refrain melody is presented and then developed at some length, proceeding through a number of different keys along the way. The opening bars of the refrain echo back and forth among the winds, but the piano (as usual) is given the most active role, with darting arpeggios and cascading scales in abundance.

Finally, the refrain comes back, first in the piano and then in the winds, with a robust Alberti bass accompaniment provided by the pianist. After a somewhat fragmented transition, a variant of the first episode returns with its key elements intact, but given over even more to pianistic display than earlier. There are a few interesting new events along the way, including a dramatic descending line harmonized in the winds against a pounding dominant pedal in the piano's left hand.

When the refrain makes its final appearance in what may be best described as a coda, it is divided between winds and piano and somewhat fragmented, pausing for some tonally ambiguous sequential activity and never really gaining traction. The horn does get a rare opportunity to make its voice heard in some stirring horn calls in a passage that crescendos into a powerful conclusion.

This is certainly an exuberant movement, and there is a lot of attractive concerto-like interaction between pianist and winds (as there is elsewhere in the work). Still, it may be—as Tovey has suggested—that Beethoven's goals here could have been more ambitious. Although the slow movement is an extremely sensitive one with passages of great beauty, the first and last movements amount to little more than skillful presentations of conventional musical ideas. But perhaps it's unreasonable to expect more from Beethoven at this point in his career, given the genre. Works featuring multiple winds were usually associated with the "serenade" tradition, i.e., more "social" music than "art" music, unencumbered with the need to be deep or profound. The fact that this particular work exhibits "concerto-like" features so prominently might be seen as placing it in a special category. But in the end, this is a social work, albeit a very fine one, and Tovey's criticisms may well be misplaced.

Trio in B-flat major for Clarinet (or Violin), Cello and Piano, Op. 11

Composed in 1797, this work was almost certainly written for a specific clarinetist, possibly Joseph Bahr, a well-known virtuoso attached to the Prussian court chapel at Potsdam. The key was probably chosen specifically for its ease of negotiation by the clarinet and the instrument is certainly favored with a number of lovely lyrical passages, as well as opportunities to show off what must have been a formidable technique. (The violin version of the clarinet part, available as an option, is virtually identical, but contains a few passages requiring multiple stops.) Nevertheless, neither the cellist nor the pianist has anything to complain about in this work; both are given important solo passages (including some virtuoso ones) and may be thought of as making an equal contribution to the overall effect.

The work is sometimes labeled as a "piano trio" but seems somewhat less serious in its intention than the three piano trios published as Op. 1. It contains some novelties to be sure but, on the whole, seems to strive for less depth of emotion. The last movement, for example, is a set of variations on a popular tune of the day composed by Joseph Weigl, taken from his comic opera "L'Amour Marinaro," or "The Corsair in Love." Taken somewhat aback by the enthusiasm that this movement generated (for Beethoven disdained the wrong sort of praise as much as he resented inappropriate criticism, especially from journalists), the composer indicated at one point to his friend Czerny that he would replace the finale with a more worthy one. He did not, and the work went to be published in relatively short order.

Movement I

Allegro con brio, B-flat major, Common time

The first subject begins with cello, clarinet and piano in octaves all announcing the opening motive.

Ex. 73-A

The theme is presented in segments, split between the piano on one side and the clarinet and cello on the other. It is not until measure 13 that the melody reaches its most complete realization, one in which two augmented chords in close proximity lend a certain yearning quality. But that particular version of the theme never recurs in quite that form, and Beethoven soon replaces it with a new, two-bar lyrical motive.

Ex. 73-B

This new motive, usually alternated with quick ascending piano scales, is repeated a number of times in the cello and clarinet and, subsequently, appears in the piano as well, as the key makes its way to F major where it is confirmed with an emphatic cadence.

This would normally be the signal for the introduction of the second subject. But what actually occurs next appears initially to be the second subject in the "wrong" (and rather remote) key of D major. The "theme" that arrives along with the new key is barely a theme at all—really just an ascending triad followed by a number of repeated notes. But for seven bars, it seems as if it might be the real thing. In the end, however, it's just a delaying action, and the eighth bar turns the key around and heads it back to F major where the "real" second subject occurs.

Ex. 73-C

The clarinet melody is accompanied by the cello in a cleverly devised Alberti bass pattern that in time takes on the function of a staccato countermelody. The piano soon takes up the second subject in octaves and quickly makes it way to the closing section.

Ex. 73-D

The closing section has an unusual amount of rhythmic energy, in large part because of its weak-beat sf accents, but also because the snatches of imitation between the clarinet and piano keep the texture lively. Still, the excitement dies down surprisingly quickly as a series of more lyrical descending lines temporarily take over. But soon the strong syncopated rhythms return, embellished now by flowing scales in the piano. In fact, the piano dominates much of the closing section with its rapid passagework, which is interrupted finally by a cheerful little codetta theme that continues to draw on the same syncopated rhythmic pattern in something like a free inversion of the initial closing section motive. Once again the cello provides a clever, mostly staccato countermelody that is soon picked up by the piano, which rapidly delivers the exposition to its conclusion.

The development begins, pianissimo, in an unlikely manner. The key is D-flat major, a far cry from the key of F major in which the exposition ended. And the thematic material is equally unlikely: Beethoven begins the development by referencing the ascending triadic motive from the "false" second subject. But it is not long before the semitone motive from the opening bar of the first subject and the ascending third from the opening bar of the second subject both make an appearance. Some sixteen bars later, the piano begins a long series of ascending sixteenth-note arpeggios in the right hand, while the left hand repeatedly quotes (along with the clarinet and cello at times) the descending staccato motive from the second and third bars of the first subject (Ex. 73-A).

The key now begins to shift, first to E-flat minor and then, sequentially, to F minor. But the sequential activity is then broken off and the harmony stalls on D major, which is soon revealed to be the dominant of G minor. A root position cadence on G minor brings with it a direct reference to the opening measures of the first subject, but G minor is soon abandoned for F major and we return to the piano's sixteenth-note arpeggios and the more oblique references to the descending staccato lines of measures 2 and 3. The key of F major is, of course, our final preparation for the return of the original tonic of B-flat major, and it is a series of sixteenth-note octave leaps in the piano that makes the final transition to the new key and the beginning of the recapitulation.

The first subject comes back in a somewhat truncated version and we move quickly to the second part of the first subject (Ex. 73-B), beginning in the cello but quickly shared with the clarinet.

The second subject, now in B-flat major, is again presented as a clarinet-cello duet with minimal commentary by the piano. The return of the closing section and codetta present no major surprises. The coda is a brief one, in which the chromatic movement from the opening bar of the first subject is brought back twice in the closing measures. The piano then hurries to the conclusion of the movement with an ascending sixteenth-note scale of three octaves.

Movement II

Adagio, E-flat major, 3/4

Once again the cello is prominently featured as it presents another of Beethoven's quintessentially simple, but elegant slow movement melodies.

Ex. 74

As the melody repeats in the clarinet, the cello begins an Alberti-bass type accompaniment that is transformed gradually into a graceful countermelody. The piano, meanwhile, echoes the clarinet's motive in octaves. After sixteen bars, the music comes to a halt, still on tonic, and the piano provides a succinct but skillful modulation to B-flat major.

The second main theme, split between clarinet and cello, consists basically of a series of embellishments of a repeated V7-I progression in the new key. Other interesting details emerge along the way. The piano begins a series of swirling arpeggios beneath a new motive in E-flat minor, and sequential repetition of that motive in the piano and clarinet move the tonality down by step until it finally stabilizes in the remote key of E major. In this new key, the opening motive of the first subject is developed in the cello until a clever common tone modulation that transforms an E major triad (E-G-sharp-B) into a diminished seventh on D (D-A-flat-C-flat) returns us to E-flat minor and, a few measures later, to E-flat major. At that point the first theme returns in the cello, now accompanied by a broad clarinet countermelody and newly-devised piano arpeggios.

The coda harkens back to the original transition to the second theme, and includes a lovely (albeit temporary) modulation to C minor. The final measures of the movement take a loving look back at the opening bars of the first theme, the piano echoing the cello and the clarinet responding with an inversion of the opening motive as the movement glides to a quiet conclusion.

Movement III—Variations on Joseph Weigl's Pria ch'io L'impegno

Allegretto, B-flat major, Common time

Weigl's little tune is a catchy but repetitive affair of sixteen bars. Beethoven was by no means above making a silk purse out of a sow's ear (as his previous variations attest), but this melody presented a challenge, even for him. The melody is presented for the first four bars by the piano with cello accompaniment. The clarinet takes over for the next four-bar phrase and the final eight bars are split between clarinet and piano.

Variation I is a dazzling little exercise in sweeping arpeggios and scale lines for piano alone. Variation II, for cello and clarinet only, presents a gentler and more lyrical version of the melody. The cello begins and is subsequently imitated at the octave by the clarinet. The two then continue in a cordial duet.

Variation III is marked "with fire" (con fuoco) but is much too cheerful to be taken very seriously. The clarinet begins, and soon gets swept up in virtuoso passagework, after which the cello takes its turn in much the same manner. Soon, the two are exchanging sweeping scale passages against an arpeggio-based accompaniment in the piano. The numerous sf accents help generate a lot of rhythmic intensity but, in the end, the variation is little more than high-spirited fun.

Variation IV is the first minor key variation. It's brief, with minimal connection to Weigl's melody. Cello and clarinet proceed primarily in tenths and octaves and the overall effect is expressive in an understated sort of way.

Variation V, back in B-flat major, is comparatively raucous, with thundering scales and arpeggios in the piano against sustained tones from the cello and clarinet. There is little subtlety here, with most of the emphasis being on the pianist's virtuosity.

Variation VI is, by comparison, more delicate and even slightly pensive. All three instruments participate equally in the interchange of (primarily) two-note motives.

Variation VII returns to B-flat minor for a dignified, even pompous exercise in dotted rhythms.

Variation VIII, in B-flat major, features a sustained, expansive melody in the cello that is soon joined by the clarinet. The piano support is simple, but rhythmically active. A series of crescendi and decrescendi in the second half of the variation suggest that the composer is attempting to achieve a more passionate effect, but without much success.

Variation IX is closest to the original theme in both detail and spirit. The piano begins the melody, once again featuring a number of weak-beat sf accents. The clarinet then seizes the melody with the cello in canonic imitation. The rhythmic independence between parts, in combination with the constant triplet arpeggios from the piano, keeps the energy level high throughout, at least until we encounter a puzzling passage of whole-note trills followed by a four-bar passage for solo piano that provides a link to the second part of the variation. Much of this amounts to a final restatement of the theme, with manipulations of the 6/8 meter resulting in some interesting rhythmic displacements. But the ending is very coquettish, clearly designed to leave the listener's smiling.

Because this last movement seems to have been so much the focus of most listeners, the whole trio has been given the nickname "Gassenhauer," which loosely translates as "street song" (or—more currently—"hit song"), reflecting the massive popularity of Weigl's melody. And the trio as a whole, especially the last movement, is so clearly designed for immediate popularity that it has given the work something of a bad reputation over the years. Lockwood has claimed that Beethoven, "instead of attempting a serious work that could stand up to Mozart's [E-flat major clarinet trio], was trolling the surface for easy dividends."

Septet in E-flat major for Violin, Viola, Horn, Clarinet, Cello and Contrabass, Op. 20

Of all of Beethoven's chamber works employing winds, the septet has maintained a reputation as the most successful. Tovey suggests that it is "the most brilliant success of Beethoven's first period" and "perhaps the only work of Beethoven's which earned Haydn's unqualified and enthusiastic praise." Of course Beethoven's trio, Op. 11, had been quite popular as well in its day, primarily for his jaunty set of variations on Weigl's well-known tune. But, unlike the trio, the septet was built to last, full of ingratiating melodies, carefully plotted motivic continuity and charming harmonic effects.

Movement I

Adagio, E-flat major, 3/4

Allegro con brio, Alla breve

The movement begins with a dignified introduction of eighteen measures that presents its two most important motives in the first eight bars. The first comes from the opening measures, a series of grace-note embellished quarter notes that alternate with a rapidly ascending and descending line. (Ex. 75-A) The second is a short fragment of four notes (Ex. 75-B) that appears in various versions in all seven instruments and provides the rhythmic motive that also begins the Allegro con brio section.

Ex. 75-A & Ex. 75-B

The first subject of the sonata form that begins at the Allegro con brio is typical of the composer in this period, starting on the fifth of the tonic triad and gradually moving up the chord, its rhythmic impetus provided by the thee-note anacrusis figure.

Ex. 75-C

The remainder of the theme is more lyrical, even sensuous, its longer phrases employing nonharmonic tones quite effectively, especially the descending leap from the major seventh of the subdominant chord in measure 5, and its sequential equivalent two bars later. After ten bars, the clarinet picks up the melody and brings it to a close on dominant. This is followed by a modulatory transition based primarily on the opening measures of the Adagio introduction, after which a series of rapid plagal (IV-I) cadences reminiscent of Mozart's opera buffa style are set up. Finally, the second subject appears in B-flat major, somewhat simpler and more languid in style.

Ex. 75-D

The first half of the second subject, only eight bars long, yields to a new thematic idea, one based on measure 10 of the first subject, now alternating with swift, descending scale passages. Elements of this new theme are shared between violin, clarinet and bassoon. After eight bars, the idea repeats, the scale passages now dominating. Soon, a series of eighth-note triplets in the violin are introduced and, after a brief transitional passage, the closing section appears. Not remarkable melodically, its staccato articulations provide a nice contrast with what has come before.

The codetta that follows on its heels is more interesting, hearkening back to the first three notes of the first subject (Ex. 75-C).

Ex. 75-E

After a repeated cadential pattern, the exposition soon draws to a close.

After employing the opening bars of the first subject to build up a dominant seventh on B-flat, the development section takes a surprising turn to G major, later heard as the dominant in C minor. Here, the codetta theme is the first to be exploited. The theme appears first in the clarinet, but the horn also gets a fairly rare solo opportunity. As the key moves to A-flat major, motives from the opening of the Adagio introduction appear and, for the next several measures, alternate with the codetta theme, as the key moves to F minor and then in the direction of B-flat major in preparation for the recapitulation.

In the recapitulation, the first subject is heard in its entirety in the violin, but is cut off as it starts to repeat in the clarinet, and a feint is made toward the key of the subdominant (A-flat major). At that point, a new "mini-development" occurs, with the descending scale motive from the codetta popping up alternately in clarinet, bassoon and horn, while cello and double bass very effectively exploit a motive derived from the first subject. The rhythmic intensity is impressive, although the dynamic level remains low for the most part, and it comes almost as an anti-climax when the second subject arrives, now in tonic.

Closing section and codetta arrive in due course, and the coda features a noble new theme played by the horn and accompanied by the viola, which employs motives from the opening measure of the first subject and an off-beat accompaniment figure that also played an important role in the first subject. The new horn theme is then doubled by the clarinet, as the motives from the first subject are now taken up also by the violin, which lends them new prominence, as the key heads toward A-flat major. After a cadence in the new key, the motives from the opening of the Adagio appear yet again, and we head to the final passage of the movement, which returns to the original tonic and is highlighted by a clever new motive with a prominent trill heard first in the viola but quickly taken up by the violin. The new motive carries us briskly to the fortissimo conclusion.

Movement II

Adagio cantabile, A-flat major, 9/8

The harmonies are again restricted to the most conventional of patterns for this slow movement, but the melody is one of great sensitivity and beauty. A number of writers (notably Watson) have commented to the effect that this septet, perhaps more than any of Beethoven's early music, may show the true fruits of the composer's study of the Italian Bel canto vocal style with Salieri. Certainly the melodic embellishments are often quite vocal in nature and are applied here as effectively as in any other early work. But Beethoven's melodies, particularly the first, demonstrate not only the elegant lines and the sense of longing that is so often the goal of the Bel canto style, but also that air of nobility so often associated with the composer's slow movements.

The main melodic idea, eight bars in all, is presented immediately in the clarinet.

Ex. 76

The accompaniment is simple, the only significant rhythmic activity appearing in the violin with the viola, cello and double bass mainly restricted to downbeats.

When the violin assumes the melody, the texture becomes slightly more elaborate. The viola accompaniment patterns now proceed in sixteenth notes, while clarinet and bassoon combine to contribute a restrained countermelody. The second half of the theme, presented by the clarinet and later bassoon, merges into the modulatory transition and eventually a modulation to the dominant is brought about.

The second theme, which is heard in the violin and accompanied largely in block chords by the lower strings, is more active rhythmically and marked by some sharp dynamic contrasts. It eventually passes into a new theme, still in E-flat major, that serves as a closing section. This is even more strongly characterized by sf accents, often on the weak beats, although the exposition trails off quickly to end pianissimo.

The development section begins with a clever common tone modulation where the G of the previous E-flat major chord is reinterpreted as first the root of a dominant chord on G, and then the fifth of a C major chord. Now in C major, the first subject initially receives most of the attention, its coloratura embellishments becoming more extreme as the development section proceeds. The more rhythmically distinctive second subject also receives some attention, but the highlight of the development section may be a new, darker theme presented by the horn as the key moves toward D-flat major. Soon after that—and a shift back to the dominant— the development section is brought to a close.

The recapitulation begins with the first subject returned to its pristine form. The second subject appears in due course, and a brief but rhythmically diverse coda makes some final references back to the closing theme before ending quietly.

Movement III—Menuetto

Tempo di Menuetto, E-flat major, 3/4

The movement begins by quoting part of one of Beethoven's most famous little tunes, originally written in 1795 for his Sonata in G Major, Op. 49, No. 2 (not published until 1805),which has graced the elementary piano books of countless generations of students.

Ex. 77

The accompaniment provided by the lower strings is initially as simple as the melody itself. The texture becomes slightly more elaborate for the second four bars of the melody, with clarinet and bassoon contributing a modest countermelody in octaves that echoes the dotted rhythms of the jaunty little melody. The second half of the Menuetto section presents twelve bars of a military-styled theme in C minor, played by the violin and enriched by brief but lovely chromatic countermelodies from the clarinet and bassoon. After that section concludes on the dominant, the original melody returns, returning the key to E-flat major for the end of the section.

As is often the case, The Trio section initially thins out the texture. In the first section, a new, very simple melody is introduced, pianissimo, in the strings while horn and clarinet alternate descending and ascending arpeggios. The second four bars introduce a brief crescendo and some sf accents before the section comes quietly to a close on the dominant. The second section elaborates on the ideas of the first before concluding on the tonic and sending us back to the Menuetto section.

Movement IV—TEMA con Variazioni

Andante, B-flat major, 2/4

The theme, two sections of eight bars arranged in a rounded binary form, once again shows march-like qualities.

Ex. 78

A quick series of secondary dominants at the beginning of the second section speeds up the harmonic rhythm a bit, after which the initial four bars of the melody return and the theme comes to a close on tonic.

The first variation features an initial duet between violin and viola, the latter rendering a "filled in" version of the theme in sixteenth notes with some off-beat rhythmic displacements to add interest. Eventually, the cello takes over the melody, with the violin relegated to repeated note patterns and the viola given a staccato countermelody. After eight measures, the viola-violin duet returns, this time with an even more extensive use of syncopations.

The second variation begins with rapid thirty-second note arpeggiations by the violin, answered by triplet figures from clarinet and bassoon and accompanied by the lower strings. The second half continues along similar lines, with the violin stretching its range even higher in rapid repeated note and scalewise figures.

The third variation again shows march-like qualities; the melody begins in the bassoon and is immediately (but briefly) imitated up an octave by the clarinet, the two of them accompanied rather sketchily by the strings. Everyone but the horn plays an active role in the second section, with the double bass assigned some tricky thirty-second note scale runs doubling the cello. This is one of the busiest sections in the entire movement in terms of texture and makes a wonderful contrast with the relative textural simplicity of the first part of the variation. After just four bars, the first four bars of the variation return and the variation comes to a close.

Variation four provides a charming contrast to the previous march-like variation with the previously neglected horn now given a noble theme in B-flat minor. The strong descending pizzicato line against this theme, provided by cello and double bass, and the mercurial sixteenth-note triplets that dance above it, lend an air of mystery to the proceedings, which seems to increase as the first section decresendos to its close. The mood continues in the second section, although off-beat accents provide some additional rhythmic energy. When the horn theme returns (somewhat varied), it is echoed proudly by the clarinet and bassoon and the entire variation again decrescendos to its conclusion.

The fifth variation in B-flat major begins by stating a variant of the melody in the violin with an expressive new chromatic countermelody in the cello against it. The texture increases in complexity as the variation proceeds, peaking in the first half of the second section.

This variation is followed by a coda that presents another variant of the melody as a duet between clarinet and bassoon, this time featuring dotted eighth and sixteenth-note rhythms. Harmonically, it is generally straightforward, but the horn eventually adds a hint of chromatic color with its countermelody. After a fortissimo climax, we encounter a brief foray into B-flat minor, but we soon return to the major key for the surprisingly delicate final bars, topped off by another fortissimo concluding cadence.

Movement V—Scherzo

Allegro molto e vivace, E-flat major, 3/4

The Scherzo movement is a quick-moving affair that begins with a descending horn call motive followed by a descending scale in the clarinet and violin, harmonized nicely by the bassoon.

Ex. 79

A slight variation of the phrase is repeated on dominant, but this time ending on the tonic of E-flat major. The second half of the Scherzo moves to C minor and features a series of descending fourths and whole steps, delivered in pairs of quarter notes distributed throughout the texture. After the key returns to the tonic, a strong ascending chromatic line in the cello and double bass dominates the listener's attention while generating some interesting harmonies along the way. This is followed by a quixotic solo passage for violin consisting of a series of repeated quarter notes marching down a dominant seventh chord on B-flat. The original theme returns in the horn before the violin has completed its ascent back up the ladder, and a new series of strong descending lines is introduced. Following this section, a variation of the opening measures of the second section returns and the Scherzo comes to a close.

The Trio introduces a lyrical new cello melody played very high in the cellist's range against a somewhat rudimentary accompaniment. This continues in the second half of the Trio with the violin eventually joining in to double the cello. After crescendoing to a bit of a climax, the section concludes, and the da capo sign sends us back to the somewhat more robust Scherzo section.

Movement VI

Andante con moto alla Marcia, E-flat major, 2/4

Presto, Alla breve

The introduction begins with a somber theme in E-flat minor in the style of a funeral march, stated in unison and octaves by the horn and strings. The entire introduction is quite atmospheric, but has little to do with what follows.

The Presto opens with a distinctive, if repetitive, theme of eight bars played by the violin with an active eighth-note accompaniment from the cello.

Ex. 80-A

After eight bars, the rest of the ensemble joins in with the clarinet and bassoon taking the melody in octaves, this time crescendoing to a climax and ending on tonic. The modulatory transition begins immediately, with the horn proclaiming a descending triad in a manner that recalls the opening motive of the Scherzo. The horn theme is quickly answered by skittering eighth-note triplets in the violin.

Ex. 80-B

As the transition proceeds, the clarinet and bassoon join in with the horn's motive and, in no time at all, we have arrived at the second subject.

Ex. 80-C

The violin is doubled at the sixth by the cello with the viola providing a pulsating eighth-note accompaniment. After four bars, the duet switches to the clarinet and bassoon with the throbbing eighth notes going to the cello. After just eight measures, the theme gives way to a new series of triplets in the violin, now broadened into arpeggio figures alternating with scale passages reaching into the highest range. At this point the second subject merges into the closing section, where the viola assumes some of the triplet activity along with the cello. The codetta arrives with its coquettish series of slurred "sighing" figures tossed back and forth between violin, clarinet and bassoon. A new rhythmically distinctive motive also arrives, heard first in the viola but more definitively in the cello.

Ex. 80-D

This new motive pops up repeatedly in viola and cello (especially the latter) and is accompanied by violin, clarinet and bassoon playing an extended melody of legato half notes that look ahead to an important passage in the development section.

The sustained half note melody continues into the development, but it is pushed to the background by new syncopated motives and the return of Ex. 80-D as the key alternates between B-flat minor and C minor. After a dramatic passage driven by eighth-note triplets in the violin and viola, we arrive securely at C minor as the second subject makes a somewhat ominous sounding appearance (perhaps in sympathy with the slow introduction). This eventually yields to a somewhat puzzling chorale-like passage of half notes in A-flat major, similar to the one heard in the codetta and beginning of the development, but now taking on a featured role, accompanied by a march-like pizzicato bass provided by the viola, cello and double bass and, eventually, a violin countermelody in A-flat major.

Ex. 80-E

Watson suggests that this is derived from the opening motive of the Allegro con brio section in the very first movement (Ex. 75-C). While it is by no means outrageous to think that Beethoven would make such a connection, it is not one that the average listener (even an insightful one) would be likely to hear. Nevertheless, the chorale-like passage is an unusual one and its place in the development section is not easily explained away.

Following the chorale-like passage and a fermata on the dominant seventh, the violin is assigned a cadenza that leads back eventually to the recapitulation. Most of the recapitulation proceeds normally enough, but there are some new keys encountered in passing, especially in what was formerly the modulatory transition. The legato half-note melody from the codetta, again in collaboration with the motive from Ex. 80-D and a recurring triplet motive, drives to a vigorous fortissimo climax. Following this, and leading to the final measures, is a brief coda. It begins quietly but is dominated by violin triplets from the outset. The triplets peak in the highest range of the instrument as the movement surges to a fortissimo conclusion.

This movement, and in fact the entire composition, has all the ingredients for a popular success: attractive themes, colorful writing that gives all instruments an important role, and a dynamic, energetic flow that never allows the momentum to falter, whether in the slower movements, or in any of the lightly scored passages found in the faster movements. Although it may lack the depth and seriousness of tone found in some of the Op. 18 string quartets, Beethoven's Septet, Op. 20 is as worthy an example of early chamber music as any the composer produced.

Sonata for Horn and Piano in F major, Op. 17

This piece was composed in 1800, specifically for Czechoslovakian-born horn virtuoso, Giovanni Punto, a highly acclaimed artist of the period. Ries reports that Beethoven was forced to finish the work hastily and may have gotten the score to Punto at the very last minute. Nevertheless, the work is perfectly idiomatic for the horn, posing some technical challenges in terms of range and flexibility for the instrument that seem tailor-made to match the hornist's special talents. (The work is considerably less idiomatic for the cello, for which an alternative version was published.)

The work features pleasant melodies, fluent and occasionally even virtuosic writing for the keyboard, and occasional little surprises in harmonic details. But it is, on the whole, a rather conventional work that doesn't begin to match many of the composer's other early chamber works in terms of melodic or harmonic ingenuity. In other words, this is a perfect example of Beethoven the craftsman, writing a perfectly competent and even mildly interesting piece to fulfill a specific need.

The first movement is in sonata form with the initial presentation of the first subject split between the horn and the piano. It is not until measure 10 that the horn has the opportunity to present the first subject by itself.

Ex. 81-A

The triadic shape of the initial phrase is, of course, traditional for the instrument. The next phrase provides some mild contrast and is repeated again a step higher. The final phrase of the ten-measure subject also begins with a dotted eighth and sixteenth pattern and, after a measure of repeated notes, makes its way to the cadence. The melody is provided an arpeggio-based accompaniment in the right hand of the piano with some melodic motion in the bass.

The second subject, in the key of C major, is presented initially in the horn. It again begins with a dotted eighth and sixteenth pickup note and also features repeated notes as it moves up the new tonic triad.

Ex. 81-B

The second subject moves to E minor by the fifth bar, at which point the piano takes over the melody with the horn providing brief interjections at lulls in the phrase.

The closing section introduces a horn melody beginning with an octave leap that unfolds in longer note values as the piano combines more dotted rhythms with octave leaps in sixteenth notes moving up and down the scale.

More octave leaps—this time descending—are in evidence in the horn part as the coda proceeds. Meanwhile, Beethoven, perhaps mindful of the fact that he himself would be the pianist for the premiere of the work, provides the piano part with what may be the "flashiest" passage so far, alternating sixteenth-note first inversion chords between the two hands.

Ex. 81-C

The codetta features the two instruments exchanging two-bar phrases, the piano version naturally being the more ornate. More dotted rhythms return to bring the exposition to a close.

The development section is solid if unremarkable. Beginning in C minor, we hear first the motive from the opening of the first subject and a four-bar reference to the second subject immediately after it. But it is the descending triadic motion of the first subject that receives most of the attention, moving through a series of closely related keys while the piano accompaniment becomes more ambitious in its rapid arpeggios and powerful bass lines. Perhaps aware that the material from the exposition had limited value for the purposes of development, Beethoven introduces a short but catchy new phrase and exploits it at some length. This phrase, heard first in the piano, begins with an ascending octave leap that immediately descends a sixth before working its way back to the original pitch. The horn picks up the idea quickly and elements from it, along with the descending octave leaps from the closing section, dominate from that point on to the end of the development section.

The recapitulation is largely uneventful. A variant of the alternating sixteenth-note chords again makes its appearance (Ex. 81-C), and the horn response to it allows the instrument to plunge low into its range. As the coda proceeds, the horn soloist naturally gets some last minute chances to show off technique, mostly in the form of virtuosic sixteenth-note arpeggios and large melodic leaps. Both instruments rally boldly to the fortissimo conclusion.

Movement II

Poco Adagio, quasi Andante, F minor, 2/4

The rather short slow movement (only seventeen bars in all) has a certain somber pathos about it that can be summed up from the opening two measures.

Ex. 82

The melody is never far from the surface, with the piano often echoing the horn's statements with embellished versions of its own. The key visits E-flat major briefly, but it darkens almost immediately to E-flat minor, where the main melodic idea is repeated. There are also a number of rather ominous dotted sixteenth and thirty-second note figures echoed back and forth between the piano and horn. The movement ends on the dominant after a brief cadenza for the piano and heads directly into movement III.

Movement III—Rondo

Allegro Moderato, F major, Alla breve

The finale is a reasonably normal rondo with a refrain melody that takes advantage of the soloist's smooth handling of large leaps. It is heard first in the piano.

Ex. 83

When the horn takes up the theme in the fifth bar, it does so while crescendoing from piano to a sf peak on the octave and a half leap. The horn's version leaves out the coquettish little turns, but extends the melody by repeating the last bar three times as the piano swirls triplet motives against it.

After the cadence on tonic arrives, one would expect the start of a transition designed to modulate to the key of the dominant for the first episode. But Beethoven stays in the original key and presents a new melody, one that is soon picked up by the piano. Only then do we actually begin to leave the key of F major and head in the direction of C major.

Arriving in C major, the horn presents us with the "official" first episode. But it is quite brief, barely five measures in length and never repeated. Instead, we enter a re-transition section based on ascending sixteenth-note octave patterns in the piano and more descending octave leaps in the horn. Ten measures later the refrain returns, once again with the piano making the initial presentation of the melody. The horn extends its version of the tune once again and, after the briefest of transitions, we arrive at the second episode in D minor.

While it has some motivic links to earlier themes, its minor key "personality" makes the new melody quite distinctive. It is presented first by the horn and then, in octaves, by the piano, which moves the key toward C major before turning around and heading back to D minor as the melody is repeated and varied in both horn and piano.

A series of new rhythmic motives in the piano indicate that the retransition is upon us, and before long we are met with the refrain melody played by the horn, now embroidered somewhat more elaborately by the piano than before. As we proceed to the coda, the horn launches into a series of repeated notes sprinkled with large leaps against ferocious thirty-second note figuration patterns in the piano. As the end approaches, we hear more rapid-fire arpeggios from the horn and rapid scale passages from the piano. But there is a brief hearkening back to an earlier, more lyrical passage before the first subject is quoted, pianissimo, one last time and we charge on with blazing triplets to the fortissimo conclusion of the movement.

Serenade in D major for Flute, Violin and Viola, Op. 25

Composed in 1801and not published until 1802, this work would seem to be on the very outer fringes of Beethoven's first period. But some scholars have suggested that the composer may have begun work on the piece far earlier, perhaps around 1797 after completing his earlier serenade, Op. 8.

Commentators have generally been kind to the work, if occasionally a bit condescending. Roger Fiske describes it as "charming, but such a light-weight work that it seems absurd to listen to it with solemn attention."

It is, at any rate, an ingratiating work, and includes what a number of writers have suggested is the composer's best writing for flute. (An arrangement was later made—not by Beethoven but apparently approved by him—for piano and flute or violin).

As a serenade, it partakes of a "social music" pedigree like the earlier Op. 8. Whether this work was actually intended for outdoor performance, it does contain the typical six movements, including two minuets (although only one of them so-named).

Movement I–Entrata

Allegro, D major, Common time

The opening movement is a little march which, as the title suggests, may have originally served as entrance music, perhaps for a group of dancers or guests. The fanfare-like nature of the opening theme may seem a little surprising given the instrumentation, but the bright, rhythmically-distinctive motives are carried off very nicely by this particular combination, top-heavy though it is.

Ex. 84

The overall form of the movement is A-B-A with each large section breaking down into two smaller subsections, each repeated. The next subsection here introduces some related new ideas, but the opening motives soon return in the violin and viola. The middle (B) section of the movement introduces a more strongly contrasting motive, still with a military bearing, that is presented in different pairings—sometimes in a duet between violin and viola, and sometimes in a duet between flute and violin. The da capo sign calls for a repeat of the A section (without the internal repetitions).

Movement II—Menuetto

Tempo ordinario d'un Menuetto, D major, 3/4

The Menuetto is lyrical and graceful with a few subtle off-beat syncopations to add rhythmic interest. The second section calls for the strings to play multiple stops—four parts in the violin and three in the viola—on beats two and three, as the flute presents a lively new melody of four bars. The more lyrical opening phrase then returns in a flute variant that is more chromatically inflected and is extended to the end of the section.

The first of two trios presents a perpetual motion flow of sixteenth notes in the violin over a simpler viola bass. The second section reverses the process initially, but after four bars the violin reassumes its prominence.

After the minuet section is repeated, the second trio is introduced. As in every section to this point, the harmonies are quite simple, but the texture here is a little thicker than previously with the flute's solo arpeggios and scales coming over repeated double stops in the violin as well as the "bass line" provided by the viola. In the next section of the trio, the violin takes on a more melodic function, alternating phrases with the still-busy flute over Alberti bass-styled accompaniment provided by the viola. In typical rounded binary fashion, the opening measures return to round off the section, after which the minuet is heard for the third time.

Movement III

Allegro molto, D minor, 3/8

This fast-paced movement is itself rather like a Scherzo with a brisk, frenetic melody (marked with off-beat sf accents) that bounds up the D minor triad before plunging quickly downward to end in F major eight bars later. The second section begins with a free development of the descending motive from the seventh bar, echoed back and forth between viola, violin and flute. But after just four measures, the original ascending motive returns, closing out the section. The next large section functions as a trio, although not designated as such. It's in D major and features a light-hearted skipping tune, again triadic in nature. Eventually the tune is lost in a series of coy hesitations that fade to pianissimo, but a variation of the melody comes back strong with another series of off-beat accents as the section comes to a close. The first large section repeats, as a Scherzo normally would, and moves on to a short coda that provides a quick but dynamic conclusion to the movement.

Movement IV

Andante con Variazione, G major, 2/4

This theme and three variations (plus a coda) is based on a simple melody, initially given a chorale-like treatment by the violin and viola. After eight measures, the flute comes in to double the melody an octave higher.

Ex. 85

The first variation consists of staccato arpeggios in the flute alternating with thirty-second note scale passages over an accompaniment from violin and viola that produces some cleverly interlocked rhythms.

The second variation is dominated by violin triplet arpeggios that create some effective cross-rhythms against the sixteenth-note accompaniment provided by the viola and occasional interjections from the flute.

Variation three transfers the attention to the viola, which has a much-ornamented version of the original melody. The violin provides a constant sixteenth-note accompaniment and the flute continues its periodic interjections. For the coda, the flute reclaims the melody initially, after which it is eventually shared with both violin and viola. All three take their turns at providing sweeping thirty-second note scale runs to keep the level of rhythmic activity high as the movement speeds (rather quietly) to its close.

Movement V

Allegro scherzando e vivace, D major, ¾

Another brisk Scherzo, this one features a dotted-note scale passage that skips quickly up the scale with the flute and violin in thirds and sixths.

Ex. 86

After some playful hesitations between G major and G minor in the second half of the first section, the initial melody returns, joined in harmony by the viola this time.

The (unmarked) trio section in D minor is surprisingly serious in nature with more sophisticated interplay between the three parts, making it the perfect foil for the bubbly optimism of the Scherzo section.

Movement IV

Adagio, D major, 2/4

Allegro vivace e disinvolto, D major, 2/4

The slow introduction presents a quaint, rustic little tune without the more serious overtones so often heard in slow introductions.

The Allegro section begins with a zestful refrain melody relying heavily on "short-long" syncopations.

Ex. 87

The conflict between the syncopated flute melody and the straight sixteenth notes from the accompanying violin set up a moderate level of tension that is relieved only in the middle of the refrain, when all three instruments combine for an interlude featuring a new series of arpeggios. The original melody soon returns, but this time the violin is doubling the flute an octave lower, and the sixteenth-note Alberti bass accompaniment is taken up by the viola.

The first episode is distinguished primarily by the frequent use of sf accents on the second half of beat two and across-the-bar ties. This gives way to a passage of dueling scale lines and arpeggios in which syncopated accents continue to play an important role.

The refrain returns after a brief transitional link from the solo flute, with violin and flute once again featured in octaves. In the episode that follows, the viola takes command, tilting the music in the direction of G major with its rapid scale passages. The flute takes over briefly in the next subsection of the episode, as off-beat accents are contributed by the violin and viola. The viola reasserts its dominance for the last few measures of the section.

This is followed by a retransition that moves to E minor, but only briefly. Beethoven appears not to be interested in toying at length with unexpected keys here, and the key quickly returns back to D major for the return of the refrain.

The refrain comes back in a somewhat shortened version, followed by a variation of the first episode with the syncopated sf accents still playing an important role. The retransition is somewhat extended this time around, but the refrain finally returns for its final presentation. But it is cut off prematurely and Beethoven begins to toy with the momentum, interrupting the flow with a couple of unexpected fermatas before launching into a Presto coda that zips quickly to the conclusion of the piece, ringing with multiple stops from the violin and viola.

Is this piece not worthy of "solemn attention" as Fiske suggests? Perhaps not. Beethoven seems not to have been in the mood to take chances when he crafted it. On the other hand, it is fairly bursting with gracious melodies and clever rhythms, and the three instruments are used in an impressive variety of configurations. So while the work may not be worth our "solemn" attention, it is certainly worth our while to experience it.

Chapter 11

The Op. 18 String Quartets

Although much of Beethoven's earliest chamber music has been to some extent neglected or treated with ambivalence by historians, the situation changes with the six string quartets of Op. 18. As early biographer George Alexander Fischer commented, Beethoven's earlier compositions were regarded merely "as the clever products of an ambitious young musician." But after the Op. 18 quartets began to be performed and take their place in the standard repertoire, there were far fewer—even among his earliest critics— who questioned that Beethoven was the true heir of Mozart and Haydn.

But it had taken Beethoven some time to muster the resolve to attempt this most prestigious—and therefore most daunting—of genres. He knew that any string quartet he produced would be judged rigorously according to the high standards of the great Mozart and Haydn quartets. According to friend and early biographer Franz Wegeler, Beethoven had been encouraged to take up quartet writing by Count Apponyi in 1795. But Beethoven had not risen to the bait, although he had written some fugal "exercises" for string trio and string quartet, presumably in connection with his contrapuntal studies with Albrechtsberger. But it wasn't until the age of twenty-seven that Beethoven set out to write quartets in earnest, the same age as Mozart when he published his co-called "Haydn" quartets, long considered among the masterpieces of the genre.

The care with which Beethoven finally approached his task can be seen by the extensive sketches he prepared for the first four quartets of Op. 18. (The study of those sketchbooks, particularly as they pertain to the early quartets, is beyond the scope of this book but a worthy project in and of itself.) It seems clear from this and other evidence that, once committed to mastering string quartets, he felt compelled to dedicate a great deal of time and energy to the endeavor for a year and a half.

When Beethoven did settle down to take the task in hand in 1798, he must have been encouraged by the fact that he was on intimate acquaintance with some of the finest young string players in Vienna, most notably Ignaz Schuppanzigh and the other members of the quartet led by the excellent young violinist. It wasn't as if Beethoven was a neophyte at writing for strings. Some of his earlier quintets and string trios had certainly demonstrated his competence in that area, and of course Beethoven had himself been a serviceable violist in the court orchestra during his days in Bonn. This had provided him with invaluable experience in hearing an orchestral or quartet texture from the inside out, so to speak. But Beethoven now wished not merely to recreate Haydn's and Mozart's quartet style of the 1780s and 1790s but to expand on it. His string quartets would make new demands on the performers (even more so beginning with the Op. 59, "Rasumovsky" string quartets) and it was important for him to fully understand what was within the range of possibilities for the new virtuosi that were just beginning to emerge as the new century approached. Of course Beethoven himself was chief among the virtuosi of the piano but, for string quartet writing, his friendship with Schuppanzigh was to prove invaluable.

We will begin our investigation of the Op. 18 string quartets with No. 3 in G major, the first to be composed.

String Quartet in D Major, Op. 18, No. 3

Almost from the beginning, the Op. 18 quartets strike the listener as both more artful and more personal compared to the early violin sonatas and even the more formidable string trios.

Movement I

Allegro, D Major, Alla Breve

The first movement begins with a rare and fairly dramatic gesture: an unaccompanied ascending minor seventh in the first violin that outlines a dominant seventh chord in the key of D major.

Ex. 88-A

Kerman makes the point that the opening theme is longer than usual and in one continuous phrase, rather than divided into separate motivic units or smaller phrases as in so many of the composer's early chamber works. After the initial statement of the theme, ending on a long, "yearning" lower neighbor tone on E-sharp, which resolves to the third of the dominant chord only at the last second, the viola begins the theme. This time it will be the subject of imitation at the octave, taken up first by the second violin, followed by the first (its intervals altered to fit the prevailing harmony). After arriving at an E minor chord (supertonic in the key), the ascending minor seventh motive disappears for some time, replaced by a solo first violin passage that meanders a bit as it extends the E minor tonality. Eventually E minor gives way to D major and the minor seventh motive returns in the cello and is imitated in the first violin, now in the service of a modulatory transition. The transition does not immediately show a strong sense of tonal direction, tilting first in the direction of G major before returning to the original tonic. In the meantime, an effective new triplet-based transitional motive is introduced.

Ex. 88-B

This new theme, altogether worthy of being a second subject in most circumstances, only plays a subsidiary role at this point, but will prove its greater importance in the development section. The theme is sequenced down a third into B minor and elements from it are tossed back and forth between the first violin and viola as the other parts reinforce its syncopated elements. But it is only when another transitional theme is introduced—this one based on swirling eighth-note triplets—that we begin to get serious movement toward the key of the dominant (A major) that is the anticipated goal in any conventional sonata form. Once achieved, the dominant in the key of A major is prolonged at length by the repeated use of what some commentators have referred to as a "bell-like" motive among other things:

Ex. 88-C

After all this doubling down on the dominant, we expect a truly glorious new second subject to be presented when the new key is ultimately confirmed. And the new theme, when it finally arrives, is certainly glorious enough—it's just not in A major (or at least not initially).

Ex. 88-D

It's in C major, of course, although already by the fifth measure it's heading in the direction of A minor, which is where it ends up a couple of bars later. It's quite an attractive theme, which is why it's such a pity that it exits the scene so quickly. After a total of eight bars, we are presented with the closing section—introduced by triumphant A major arpeggios in contrary motion—and eventually a codetta. Neither the closing section nor the codetta are particularly remarkable in themselves, although the codetta features some particularly effective counterpoint between the first and second violins. The conclusion of the exposition is a bit unusual and slightly disorienting. It races through three chromatic chords in as many measures before being yanked back to the dominant seventh on A that will prepare us for the repeat and our return to the original tonic of D major.

The development section begins as the exposition had, with the unaccompanied ascending minor seventh in the violin. But it becomes immediately clear that novel things are in store for us when we move into D minor and, after that, toward G minor and B-flat major. It's in B-flat that we initially encounter the triplet-based transition motive from the exposition (Ex. S1-B). But we move quickly to G minor, where the triplet-based motivic interplay between the two violins and the viola is particularly impressive. Eventually, a Neapolitan sixth chord cleverly turns us toward A minor, and it is at this point that the transition motive drops out of the picture, to be replaced by the ascending minor seventh motive from the opening measures of the movement. That motive—which is inherently unstable—soon shifts us through B minor, G major and, eventually, f-sharp minor when, in a modulatory tour de force, the C-sharp (the fifth scale degree in the key) is magically reinterpreted as the third of an A major chord and the recapitulation begins.

The first subject is presented by the second violin in the original tonic key, but the imitation of the ascending minor seventh motive begins right away this time, in the cello and, a couple of bars later, in the first violin. The tonal goal is also a bit different, the entire phrase coming to rest on B minor rather than D major this time around.

Following this variant of the first theme, the unaccompanied violin passage from the exposition is replaced by further echoes of the ascending minor seventh and its subsequent eighth-note passage, yielding after six bars to a new chromatic passage in the bass that constitutes one of Beethoven's most clever "non-modulations," a segment in which the composer appears to be setting off on a long modulatory journey, but in fact ends up back where he started (in the tonic key).

Another clever chromatic twist takes us (temporarily) to F major where the second subject returns, fading after four bars to D minor. But the closing section bursts through brightly on the tonic, and the codetta again shows the same nicely intertwined counterpoint as it did in the exposition.

Following the return of the codetta, there is a fairly brief, but surprisingly intense, coda in which the familiar ascending minor seventh motive returns, forcing the key temporarily into G minor. And then, a much greater surprise occurs: the second subject returns, pianissimo, in the unexpected key of E-flat major. But the new E-flat tonic chord is soon reinterpreted as a Neapolitan chord and we slip smoothly back into D major. The coda continues with a series of references to the ascending minor seventh motive before coming to its vigorous conclusion, fortissimo, with multiple stops in both violins and the viola.

Movement II

Andante con moto, B-flat major, 2/4

This is, without doubt, one of Beethoven's most compelling early slow movements. Something of a loose-knit rondo in terms of form, its primary theme appears first in the second violin, the first bar of which is repeated sequentially twice before breaking into a descending sixteenth-note figure.

Ex. 89

The descending sixteenths form the basis of an especially active and effective counterpoint in the second violin, as the first takes up the melody an octave higher. The harmony for the first two measures is basic enough (although accented chromatic lower neighbor tones add some local color), but it becomes more interesting in the second five bars of the refrain, which pass from a dominant pedal in the cello to an emphatic and colorful circle of fifths as the first and second violins alternate passages of descending sixteenth notes. The final cadential measures of the refrain introduce some dotted sixteenth and thirty-second note figures that are immediately picked up by the brief transition (after a sweeping ascending scale of thirty-second notes as a lead-in), taking us to the first episode.

The first episode ("B") begins securely in C major, but starts making its way toward F major after about six bars. It is a somewhat fragmented affair, with flourishes of thirty-second notes alternating with dotted rhythms from the transition. Descending triads make an appearance and are bandied about from instrument to instrument, but the section doesn't ever really coalesce effectively. A mysterious and at times dramatic new passage accompanies a modulation to D-flat major. Proceeding quite a bit more slowly than the rest of the episode, it is quite active dynamically with sforzandi and sharp crescendi and decrescendi abounding.

Eventually, all of this drama subsides as we enter something of a retransition, which prepares us for the return of the refrain theme by quoting its opening bars from time to time once the key has changed to F major. A few measures later, the F major triad has become the dominant of B-flat major and we head back into the original tonic key for the return of the refrain.

The refrain proceeds apace and the original transition is more or less reproduced, except for a striking new chord progression that delivers us to E-flat minor amidst throbbing, repeated sixteenth figures and sweeping scale lines. From E-flat minor it is a fairly brief journey to the key of D-flat major and the opening of the second episode.

The second (or "C") episode functions rather like a development section (not at all unusual for Beethoven's rondos that incline toward the "sonata rondo" variety), and the initial bar of the refrain is found everywhere as we traverse a series of keys.

But after a retransition that operates primarily in the key of F major, we do not return immediately to the refrain theme in tonic; instead, we encounter a passage that resembles the first episode, although missing some of its component parts. After this section climaxes rather boldly, it slips away quietly to set up a return to B-flat major and the expected recurrence of the refrain theme.

The refrain melody (initially heard in the second violin in Ex. 89-A) is now doubled in octaves in first and second violins, with the cello taking the sixteenth note-based countermelody against it (and the viola filling in the gaps harmonically). This gives way to a brief and rather turbulent little transition of thunderously repeated sixteenth notes in all parts (evoking the second transition to some degree), at which point part of the refrain theme, now darkened with a lowered sixth scale degree, enters and is repeated in all four instruments, along with one of its earlier countermelodies. But this is just a temporary respite from the turbulence of the pounding sixteenth notes, which return and reassert their dominance. Once again this relatively violent passage again exhausts itself (although it takes a bit longer this time) and yields to a quiet little coda that refers back to the first bar of the refrain theme several times before coming to a rather fragile pianissimo conclusion.

Movement III

Allegro, D major, 3/4

This is a mercurial Scherzo (although not designated as such in the score) that is impressively economical in its use of resources. The opening melody is a somewhat static affair, spending most of its time circulating around the third scale degree. It's a simple enough idea, although the melody does use a handful of nonharmonic tones very effectively.

Ex. 90-A

The eight-bar period concludes somewhat unusually with a tonicization of the mediant (F-sharp minor) rather than the more conventional dominant. The second (and considerably lengthier) half of the "A" section first introduces a contrasting ascending line and then begins to quote from the opening bars of the movement, the third bar (or variants of it) moving sequentially up the scale and peaking on G-sharp. There is a somewhat surprising slackening of the action at this point, as Beethoven pauses on a diminished chord. More half-step movement follows until the final peak is achieved at B natural, after which the melody gradually makes its way down the scale, finally cadencing on tonic. At this point, the opening motive returns and works its way through the texture for several measures, after which the entire section finally comes to a close securely on tonic.

The trio section (designated simply as "Minore") begins with a new theme consisting of surging eighth notes over a descending bass line that generates somewhat modal harmony (including a minor dominant chord).

Ex. 90-B

This opening four-bar phrase is immediately repeated up an octave by the first violin, and a variant of the second bar finishes off the section with a cadence on the dominant. The flowing eighth-note motive is heard again in the second section of the trio on different pitch levels, and Beethoven also develops the third measure of the phrase independently. Eventually, the momentum slows down, and the composer introduces a somewhat enigmatic and sparsely scored transition back to the first section of the movement.

The first section repeats without a great deal of incident, although the initial eight-bar period (Ex. 90-A) is repeated immediately up an octave. The second section is also heard up an octave in the first violin (doubled an octave lower by the second violin) but, except for these minor details, the movement ends in predictable fashion.

Movement IV

Presto, D major, 6/8

The first subject itself is somewhat tonally ambiguous. It begins by outlining a series of chords that seem to suggest G major rather than the tonic of D major. It is nevertheless quite a distinctive theme, and the motives from its opening bars serve quite suitably as the basis for the development section to come.

Ex. 91-A

After the initial four bars of the theme, the second viola takes over the tune and the first violin doubles it a third higher. Going into measure 9, the initial three-note motive (D-C-sharp-D) is heard up a fifth on A, this time leading to an ascending line that moves up a third. This new variant dominates for the next few measures, even penetrating through an embellished cadence eight bars later. This motive eventually gives way to a series of distinctive syncopated rhythmic figures, and the first subject concludes with an emphatic cadence four bars later.

The theme initially associated with the modulatory transition that follows is simple but effective, and is much more clear-cut in its implied tonality (remaining securely in D major from beginning to end) than portions of the first subject had been.

Ex. 91-B

Beethoven appears to revel in the relative simplicity of this theme and repeats it with a fuller texture before moving on to a new passage in which the actual modulation to the new key first begins. This passage, based largely on references back to the original three-note motive of the first subject, but also featuring strong descending scale lines, moves first to A minor, arriving securely in A major only a measure before the second subject actually begins. (See Ex. 91-C.)

This new theme, most notable for its ascending chromatic motion and the large leaps occurring in bars 5 and 6, is only heard in its original form once, after which it is broken up into its component parts, with the octave (and other large) leaps playing a major role.

Ex. 91-C

We would appear at that point to be heading toward a closing section, but what we encounter only partially fulfills that function: a temporary and unexpected shift to the key of F major and the introduction of a new two-bar phrase hovering around the third of the scale.

Following this temporary foray into the key of F major, we run into one of the cleverest harmonic gambits in the movement: the F major tonality is interrupted by an unexpected fortissimo D-sharp in all four parts. The D-sharp immediately resolves up a half-step to an E which is soon to be heard as part of a tonic 6/4 chord in A major. The inverted tonic resolves immediately to a dominant chord and then a root position tonic in the key. This is simple and reasonable enough, but it turns out to be just a set-up: in the very next measure, the D-sharp is again heard fortissimo, but this time written as an E-flat. And this time the note resolves downward, to a first-inversion B-flat chord that—for an instant—sounds like its dominant. Two measures later, the B-flat triad is heard to be the Neapolitan sixth chord in the key of A and we return to that key as if nothing had happened. But as a harmonic sleight-of-hand, the effect is simply breath-taking nevertheless.

Following this somewhat surprising reaffirmation of A major as tonic, we are met with a codetta more remarkable for its rhythmic persistence than for any memorable melodic qualities. Before long we find ourselves in the first ending of the exposition, one based on the familiar motive drawn (and sometimes inverted) from the first three notes of the first subject.

The development section begins in the same mode as the first ending of the exposition, all four parts exchanging the same three-note motive, often repeated in a descending sequential pattern. Other motives emerge as well: accented ascending perfect fourths and later minor thirds play an increasingly important role as the development proceeds. The tonality is often ambiguous, only clarifying around E minor from time to time. And, lacking a clear sense of tonal direction, the motivic development sometimes seems to wander.

But, as if to provide an antidote for this ambiguity, Beethoven inserts into his development section an unexpected tarantella-like melody, initially anchored clearly to B minor. (See Ex. 91-D.)

This colorful new theme, subject to imitation and at times inversion and fragmentation, is heard also in A minor and G major. Eventually, it gives way to another tonally ambiguous passage, this time built on a chromatically descending bass line and echoing the octave drops from the second subject. Then, at the last second, the familiar three-note motive from the first subject re-enters to usher in the recapitulation.

Ex. 91-D

Some details are changed in the recapitulation, but the key ingredients are all present and Beethoven's clever harmonic surprises undoubtedly make their effect once again. The coda is based largely on familiar motives with a new descending scale motive now playing an important role. One of the most surprising features may well be its final bars; with all of the motivic energy expended in the development section and coda, the piece concludes very quietly—pianissmo—with the initial three-note motive from the first subject carried to within a measure of the end.

String Quartet in F major, Op. 18, No. 1

This quartet is special for a number of reasons. First, of all Beethoven clearly believed (after having received advice from Schuppanzigh and perhaps others) that it was the ideal quartet to appear first in the set of the most important collection Beethoven had published to that point. Second, because Beethoven had completed an earlier version of the quartet and scholars have studied and compared the two versions extensively with an eye to documenting the "progress" made from the first to the second. Beethoven had made available a manuscript copy of the quartet to his friend Karl Amenda in June, 1799, but two years later the composer asked him not to circulate the piece because it had been extensively re-written, stating "I have just learned how to write quartets properly." The two existing versions of the quartet have been widely studied and scholars have interpreted Beethoven's remark in different ways, but it is sometimes thought to indicate that Beethoven had decided to put less emphasis on motivic integration (which, although somewhat less prominent in the later version, still remains substantial as the description below will indicate) and more emphasis on providing clear-cut contrasts between ideas and sections.

At any rate, the quartet was a very successful one, widely appreciated in his lifetime and often described as the most substantial and popular of the set of six from Op. 18.

Movement I

Allegro con brio, F major, 3/4

The first subject is a very simple one, but one brimming with possibilities for development, as Beethoven demonstrates with great success. The first four bars are extremely static harmonically, although bars 5-8 introduce a little harmonic variety with the subdominant (IV), leading tone (vii diminished) and submediant (vi) chords all passing in review before the theme closes on the dominant.

Ex. 92-A

The theme (now forte) is immediately given a varied repeat, the first two bars rising sequentially over some secondary diminished chords that provide a hint of passing tension. After this varied statement concludes, we pass immediately to the modulatory transition, which immediately serves as a mini-development section for the first measure motive. This motive appears in seven of the next eight measures (in one part or another), sometimes over diminished chords that temporarily confuse the tonality. Meanwhile, the first violin has managed to introduced a lovely little countermelody, bursting with opera buffa flavor, as we begin to move further afield from the original tonic key. The first bar motive is still very much in evidence at this point, occurring at one point in six measures in a row in first violin or viola, but some new ascending scale-based lines also have a role to play. The transition also features a particularly abrupt (but quite effective) temporary modulation to A-flat major, along with some equally dramatic diminished chords. Finally, the modulatory transition comes to an end with a fortissimo surge and we are introduced gingerly to the second subject in the key of the dominant (C major).

This second subject, which is never to play a major role in either the development section or the coda, contrasts pleasantly with the first. It is based primarily on a series of falling thirds played by the first violin alone, with its most remarkable feature being its somewhat unusual slurring pattern that emphasizes the off-beats (in direct contrast with the heavily-accented first beat patterns of the first subject).

Ex. 92-B

After a couple of bars, the second violin and viola join in, providing a counterpoint in the same rhythm. In the next phrase, the solo viola begins to take the theme down a fourth which, after a tonicization of the submediant (vi) bolstered by first and second violins, once again ends on the dominant. Now the cello begins its contribution, quoting the melody back on the original pitch level with all three of the other parts soon joining in counterpoint. All of this is squeezed into just ten measures, after which one more reference is made to the first two bars of the theme as we move into a brief transitional passages that veers into C minor. Outside of its traditional reappearance in the recapitulation, the second subject makes no further contributions to the movement.

The closing section that follows not surprisingly makes repeated references to the first subject (notably the motive from the first two bars), starting in the cello with a clever response from the first violin based on a variant of the same motive. But these references soon give way to more generic scale passages played in unison and octaves as we approach the codetta.

The codetta employs a flow of eighth notes not unlike those found in the second subject, but this time slurred in pairs on the beat rather than emphasizing the off-beats.

Ex. 92-C

Following this four-measure theme, after a one-bar rest to provide a little separation, the familiar motive from the first two measures reappears, only to yield immediately to a repetition of the new codetta theme. After another one-bar break, a dramatic series of sforzando chords appear, switching the mode temporarily to C minor. But C major soon returns and, along with it, a couple of final references to the first motive. Finally, a series of robust scale passages escort us to the end of the exposition.

After a quick shift to the key of A major, the development section once again begins as the exposition had concluded—with a series of vigorous scale passages played in octaves by all four instruments. But after just four bars of this, the key bumps up to B-flat major and the motive from the first two measures makes its first appearance. From that point on, it fairly saturates the texture, alternating with passages of broken thirds or in passages of close-knit, sometimes overlapping imitation. At times the motive, sometimes heard pianissimo, sometimes forte, undergoes changes in the process. Rather than ending with a descending interval, as in the original version of the motive, the fifth note in the motive moves up by step and then tumbles down a sixth (or seventh).

Ex. 92-D

Both C minor and G minor (and eventually D minor) emerge as temporary tonal centers, with a number of full-diminished seventh chords resolving in an unconventional manner, and a powerful ascending chromatic line in the bass creating more ambiguity than clarity. The counterpoint is intensely concentrated and maintains that high level of intensity even when the texture is momentarily reduced.

Ex. 92-E

For a time, the motive is reduced back to its original five-note form and that (or fragments from it) is bandied about in both the original and inverted form, bolstered by frequent sforzando accents. Eventually, the key stabilizes for a time on B-flat minor and the texture becomes more homophonic, the second violin and viola providing pulsating sixteenth notes while the motive works its way down the steps of the tonic chord. But still the intensity refuses to flag. First and second violins take turns manipulating the motive sequentially until it is finally exhausted and replaced by a series of rapid scales—often in contrary motion—that eventually crescendo into the recapitulation.

The new section begins conventionally enough by restating the first subject in the original tonic, but then proceeds into a largely new transition section that quotes from the initial motive, but focuses as much on the last two cadential bars of the first subject, largely neglected until now. The combination of these two motives, and the quick spin through a series of more or less exotic tonal areas that follows, makes this twenty-four bar transition one of the high points of the whole movement. But eventually the two motives yield to more generic scale lines and the second subjected is recapitulated in the tonic key.

Everything proceeds according to expectations until we arrive at the coda, which begins ominously enough with some fortissimo quarter-note scale patterns. From there we launch into what is basically a shortened version of a second development section, every bit as clever as the first, if less developed. Beethoven drives purposefully toward his harmonic goal, all the time making direct references to the very familiar opening motive, only to brush it aside and jump into another key. But, coming quickly to the end of the piece, the tonality finally stabilizes, and with a few last backward glances at our favorite motive, we come to a spirited conclusion.

Movement II

Adagio affetuoso ed appassionato, D minor, 9/8

The expressive markings for this movement are unusual and strongly suggest that this will be an Adagio of notable emotional intensity. Phillip Radcliffe has pointed out that, although affetuoso is not an unusual indication in the eighteenth century, and appassionato is certainly not unusual for the nineteenth, the inclusion of both together in an expressive marking would have been highly uncommon at the turn of the nineteenth century. Furthermore, there are suggestions of a programmatic nature here, something else that is very unusual for the young Beethoven. The composer's friend, Karl Amenda, reported that, in response to his prodding questions, Beethoven made specific references to links between this movement and the tomb scene in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Later scholars have also found indications in Beethoven's sketches for the movement that verify this connection, although the indications are somewhat ambiguous.

But what does this mean for the music itself? Are we to take this movement as a literal translation of Shakespeare's scene? Kerman and many others have referred to the emotional quality of the movement, specifically in connection with the composer's use of diminished seventh intervals, but also extending to its general tone, and what Kerman refers to as its "grand melodramatic gestures." But the structure of the movement—the way it is put together—seems to have been based on purely musical logic rather than any literary model, as much so as for any early slow movement by the composer. Nevertheless, any connection to the Shakespeare scene whatsoever, particularly in combination with the exceptionally expressive markings that adorn the piece, would seem to suggest that there will be something extraordinary about this movement. And it does not disappoint.

After a measure of throbbing eighth notes in second violin, viola and cello establishing the somber D minor tonality, the first subject is presented by the first violin. Its shape is classic; it ascends slowly (with notable emotional surges created by the crescendi and decrescendi) and peaks a minor sixth higher. Then, after a gradual descent, turns around to climb even higher in the fifth and sixth measure.

Ex. 93-A

Harmonically, the first subject is fairly economical, relying largely on tonic and dominant (or leading tone substitutes) with a single secondary dominant at the conclusion to highlight the dominant chord. A two measure link follows, one that features a very quiet, but extremely powerful dissonance (a sustained B-flat in the first violin against a tonic D minor chord), and the theme then returns high in the cello range. The melody is somewhat modified this time, but still features a strong contour and some poignant yet powerful dissonances against the underlying harmony. Eventually, the first violin takes over the main melodic activity and a new transitional motive is introduced as we move temporarily to C major. Five bars later, we have arrived in F major and the second subject is introduced. (See Ex. 93-B.)

The second violin takes the lead here, with the first answering a ninth higher. Initially, it appears as if this will be a much simpler theme in terms of its emotional complexity. But that assumption is called into question very quickly as the luxuriantly dissonant ninth appears in the first violin. But it is the "new" sixteenth-note figure introduced in the third full measure in the second violin (really just an elaborate embellishment of the first full bar) that is to have even greater significance as the second subject unfolds.

Ex. 93-B

That motive, and particularly the sixteenth-note pattern that descends the scale in the next bar, are to play very important roles as the second subject is played out, sequencing around, spawning some exotic chromatic chords and deceptive cadences, and moving temporarily to F minor. But we then return to F major with a conspicuous cadence to prepare for what appears to be a very brief closing section.

Ex. 93-C

This new configuration of sixteenths, obviously related to the earlier one but distinctive for its articulation pattern as well as its specific shape, dominates the texture for a total of four measures before yielding to a melodically distinctive and quite poignant little codetta.

Ex. 93-D

Although devoid of the chromaticism and telling nonharmonic tones of earlier themes, the emotional impact of this little theme is immense, and it stays in the mind much longer than its brevity would seem to warrant.

The development section begins pianissimo with an almost ethereal statement of the sixteenth-note motive from the brief closing section (Ex. 93-C). Then the serious business begins: the opening bars of the first subject are stated firmly in octaves by the second violin and viola, while the first violin counters with an angry burst of thirty-second notes that swirl to a peak on B-flat. (See Ex. 93-E.) This new burst of thirty-seconds dominates the action for the next four bars in an emotionally intense atmosphere shaped by frequent sforzandi and powerful crescendi.

Ex. 93-E

Even as the first subject is re-introduced in the first violin (and subsequently imitated in the viola), the swirling thirty-second note figures continue to hover. Then, after some dramatic silences, we make our way back to D minor and the recapitulation begins quietly.

But the recapitulation is no simple restatement of the earlier themes. Almost immediately the swirling thirty-second notes return in octaves in the second violin and viola, more or less overwhelming the original lyrical theme. The second subject returns in D major, as does the brief closing section and codetta.

The coda begins with a quiet reiteration of open fifths in D minor but, before long, heavily embellished versions of the first subject are presented as the dynamic level rises to fortissimo. Newly adapted versions of the thirty-second note motives from the development section return, overwhelming the first subject and dominating to the end of the movement over a chromatically-elaborated final cadence pattern. But in the end, the music ends quietly, on a tragic whisper rather than an emotional cry.

Movement III—Scherzo

Allegro molto, F major, 3/4

This is a very "slight" movement, even for a Scherzo, and it's not hard to believe that Beethoven intended it to be exactly that, a few minutes of comic relief after the intense emotional experience represented by the first and second movements. This is not to suggest that the Scherzo movement is without its charms. The first section is characterized by an ebullient theme that ascends forcefully up the scale, aided and abetted by a series of secondary dominants.

Ex. 94

The opening of the second section of the Scherzo balances all of this ascending motion with a little descending motion of its own as the key shifts quickly to A-flat major. A variant of the initial ascending motive soon comes back an octave higher, although reharmonized temporarily in D-flat major. This is followed by a less-than-inspired section of staccato leaps and a long prolongation of the dominant seventh chord in F minor. A variant of the original theme returns, moving even higher up the F major scale this time and, after a series of repeated cadences and secondary dominants, the original theme comes back for the fourth time and makes it way to a repeated cadence on tonic.

The Trio section is whimsical, but unremarkable. The first section begins fortissimo on the dominant of F major with a series of repeated leaping octaves, ornamented coquettishly with grace notes. This is followed by a series of swirling scale lines reflecting a temporary key shift to D-flat before returning to the original key.

The second section offers little that is new, running through a series of secondary dominant chords initially, before returning to the leaping octave motive, which quickly deposits us in G minor. A series of somewhat bland scale lines and arpeggios eventually take us back to the dominant seventh on C, which duly bounces us back to F major and a repeat of the Scherzo section.

Movement IV

Allegro, F major, 2/4

The finale for the F major quartet is a spacious, even sprawling sonata rondo with a number of memorable tunes. The opening refrain features a lively melody built largely on sixteenth-note triplets. (See Ex. 95-A.)

While the initial triplets constitute the most easily identified component of the theme, the second half of the theme, most notably the ascending sixths and octaves, also have an important role to play later in the movement. This opening eight-bar sequence, which ends on the dominant, is then repeated in slightly elongated form, a pair of secondary dominant chords rushing in right before the cadence back on tonic.

Ex. 95-A

This is followed by a particularly interesting transition of some length. It begins with a series of arpeggio-based sixteenth-note figures that stay securely in F major. But after eight bars, we plunge into A minor for the altogether more interesting part of the transition. For seven measures, a strong unison passage in all four instruments rises from a low A up through an octave and a minor sixth, reaching a high F. From that point the line begins to descend, incorporating a B-flat on the way down and switching the key back to F major for the return of the arpeggio-based figures.

Soon afterward, the first episode begins in the "wrong" key of G major. But eight measures later it makes amends by coming back in the "correct" key of C major.

Ex. 95-B

The thirty-second note lead-in to repeated staccato notes will become of great significance later in the movement, but the entire section is only sixteen bars long and leads into a new transition based on undulating sixteenth-note figures accompanied by a syncopated eighth-note pattern. The eighth-note pattern introduces numerous off-beat accents and the key is eventually transformed into C minor.

At that point we encounter a striking new passage that begins in C minor and switches to C major four bars later. This passage is labeled by some commentators (e.g., Radcliffe) as part of the retransition to the refrain. But in fact it has a unique and colorful identity that has more the appearance of an episode than a "mere" retransition.

Ex. 95-C

This new section is fairly brief—only twelve measures in length including the extension of the theme that is tagged on in the cello—and it is arguably in the "wrong" place to be a real episode, i.e., it immediately follows the retransition from the first episode rather than a recurrence of the refrain, which would be more conventional. But its rhythm is distinctive, and both the rhythm and the overall shape of the motive both play a large role in the developmental section to come.

After just a four-bar transition, the refrain melody returns in its original form. After eight bars, the viola begins the refrain tune again, but the melody is quickly lost, as we transition to another long episode that features extensive development of the refrain theme (both the triplet patterns and the ascending sixths and octaves) as well as elements from the first and second episodes.

Initially, the key moves from the original tonic of F major to G minor and then D minor, but over the course of the section a number of different tonal centers are touched on—some briefly, others at greater length.

Almost from the beginning, imitation plays a major role in this section. The eighth-note triplets from the refrain, heard first in the first violin, are quickly (and recurrently) subject to close imitation by the second violin and viola. But material from the first episode also plays a major role; the thirty-second note lead-in to the repeated staccato notes from that theme (Ex. 95-B) are heard in a free inversion, and subject to a particularly breathless and intense contrapuntal treatment, sometimes simultaneously with the eighth-note triplets from the refrain.

After a series of throbbing repeated eighth notes that temporarily transport us to D-flat major, we encounter a modified version of the theme from the second episode (Ex. 95-C), which alternates with the throbbing eighth-note repetitions. In some cases it is the characteristic rhythm of the second episode only that is apparent, the original contour and pitch content of that theme being significantly altered.

After a long prolongation of the dominant chord to prepare for a solid return to the original tonic of F major, the refrain melody finally returns in somewhat altered form, its texture thickened by a doubling of the original melody in sixths and even full triads. This is followed by a repeat of the earlier transition passage and the first episode, now adjusted for the change in key.

The second episode returns, but is cut short for the return of the eighth-note triplet motive and another, somewhat shorter, developmental transition. The refrain theme eventually returns in its original form in the first violin, now accompanied by a more sustained and expansive countermelody in the viola. This countermelody later moves to the first and second violin when the refrain melody migrates to the cello. The triplet motive continues to have its say as we move through the coda, which also focuses to a surprising event on the ascending sixths from the latter part of the first subject. These two motives alternate and combine up to the last three measures of the movement, which concludes with a bang, fortissimo with multiple stops in the violins.

Do the last two movements of this quartet fulfill the promise of the first two? Probably not, although the developmental episode in the finale contains passages of great dramatic intensity.

The Scherzo movement's simplicity and directness is no doubt a calculated effect, meant to offset the more complex emotional mood of the slow movement. The rondo sonata finale is as ambitious a movement as the first, but it lacks its demonstrable coherence, appearing a bit unfocused despite (or perhaps because of) its wealth of memorable melodic ideas.

String Quartet in G major, Op. 18, No. 2

This is, on the whole, a quieter and less demonstrative quartet than the first of the set and has not proven to be as popular. That is not to suggest that it is without its attractions; Kerman speaks fondly of Haydn's influence here, and suggests that the work is Beethoven's "wittiest composition in the genre."

Movement I

Allegro, G major, 2/4

There is a sort of sweet simplicity about this movement, almost a purposeful attempt to recapture the innocence of an earlier age. But there are also a few distinctive musical touches here and there that make their impact by playing off against that assumed innocence.

The first subject makes little attempt at motivic integration (in direct contrast to the opening movement of the string quartet in F), but nevertheless manages to appear perfectly homogeneous in mood.

Ex. 96-A

This initial statement of the theme is followed by a variant of the first four bars that incorporates somewhat greater dynamic contrast. Those measures are then repeated and followed by a two-bar cadential tag that brings the entire first subject to a close on the tonic of G major.

The modulatory transition is a little blunt, but nevertheless manages to play an important role later in the movement.

Ex. 96-B

The third and fourth bars are soon separated off and serve as the vehicle for the actual modulation which, fifteen measures later, arrives in the new key of D major and introduces the second subject.

Ex. 96-C

This new theme is harmonized by the other strings in block chords for the most part, but the voice-leading is not without interest, especially the cello line that shows an admirably individual identity. The use of sforzando accents combines with some touches of chromatic harmony to provide a little color for a theme that might not appear at first glance to be a particularly exciting one. The theme proceeds with a variant of the first phrase, and its embellished repetition and sequential extension, until surrendering to the closing section, a section that is unremarkable melodically, but which demonstrates a nice rhythmic interplay between the parts. Eventually, the codetta adds some new motivic components (e.g., sixteenth-note triplets), but its most remarkable attribute is its last-minute quotation of bars 5-8 from the first subject that brings about the final cadence.

Beethoven begins the development section in D minor with the same motive that had concluded the exposition (a device he develops some fondness for in this period), but he quickly replaces it with the first four bars of the modulatory transition (Ex. 96-B). Focusing primarily on the last two bars of that phrase, he moves from D minor to B-flat, and then E-flat. At that point we encounter the first subject again, most notably bars 3-4, which then go on to dominate much of the development section. With these bars subjected to a rather elaborate canon-like treatment at a volume level of pianissimo, the effect is both mysterious and evocative, and has reminded several commentators of similar fugal passages in early Haydn (e.g., the Op. 20 string quartets of the early 1770s). Beethoven keeps the interest high with his modulations (at one point settling in the remote key of E major) and by surrounding this imitative activity with a great deal of rhythmic variety in the other parts. He eventually crescendos up to forte, at which point the leading motive from the modulatory transition returns, carrying us more or less gently to the end of the development section.

The recapitulation is introduced by a persistent pedal on the dominant that is passed between instruments in what is almost a quasi-fugal manner. When the first subject enters, it does so piecemeal. Parts of the first four bars are tossed back and forth in imitation, but it takes a while before the remaining four measures of the first subject make their reappearance. Then, the first two bars of the subject are split off, sequenced and subject to imitation between the first and second violins, once again beginning at pianissimo and gradually picking up volume. Eventually, the sixteenth-note triplets from the codetta are reintroduced and they lead us to the recapitulation of the second subject, now in the original tonic key.

The codetta returns with its main elements intact and a brief coda, based primarily on various motives from the first subject, slows down the action temporarily with three fermatas before traipsing off to a good-natured pizzicato conclusion.

Movement II

Adagio cantabile, C major, 3/4

Watson describes the Adagio movement as a "noble aria" and much of the ornamentation employed does seem rather vocal in nature. But not everyone has been so impressed with this movement. Kerman calls it "diffuse, pretentious, and rather pointlessly ornate."

The initial theme is straightforward enough, arpeggiating down the tonic triad in a stately manner before cadencing on dominant in the third measure.

Ex. 97-A

The theme, although perfectly dignified in tone, is a bit bland, despite the ornamentation. It is quite conservative harmonically, touching briefly on a secondary dominant (vii diminished seven of vi) in bar 4, but otherwise restricted to common diatonic chords.

Following the initial eight-bar statement of the theme, the music seldom leaves C major, the tonic triad being embellished in various ways with only cameo appearances by the dominant. New motives are occasionally introduced (e.g., one based on dotted sixteenth and thirty-second notes) but there is little sense of forward motion.

In his discussion of this movement, Kerman points out that movements of this type frequently incorporate contrasting material in a new key. But this particular Adagio, at least the first section of it, is weak on contrast. It's not as if the opening theme is continually repeated in its original form, but there is a certain sameness that characterizes the flow throughout much of the movement.

Beethoven, however, seems to have attempted to compensate for that fact by inserting an unexpected Allegro section right in the middle of the movement. The insertion of a section of this sort is certainly an unusual device, although Beethoven had done something roughly comparable in his earlier Serenade, Op. 8. But that early work was not a string quartet with all the seriousness and tradition that the genre implies. So it is very much a surprise when, after getting a little bit of a "sneak preview" in the last measures of the Adagio section, the movement breaks into a perky Allegro section.

Ex. 97-B

Kerman calls this a "mousy little allegro dance movement," specifically a parody of a "contradanse." It is, as he points out, one the earliest of Beethoven's dance parodies, a genre that shows up again in some of the composer's later quartets and even in the "Pastorale" Symphony among other works.

The staccato sixteenth-note motive skitters around blithely for quite a while, mostly hanging around F major, and the listener may well begin to wonder what's next on the agenda. In fact, the bustling sixteenth notes simply come to a stop and, after a fermata, we return to the opening Adagio tempo and are re-introduced to the opening theme in the cello. The countermelodies are more active this time around, and the decorative melismas even more extreme. But there is nothing really new until the last few bars, where the tonality darkens somewhat mysteriously, and the chord that appears right before the final tonic is not the anticipated dominant, but a very much unanticipated and rather romantic-sounding minor subdominant chord.

Movement III—Scherzo

Allegro, G major, 3/4

The first section of the Scherzo begins with a motive that recalls the Allegro middle section of the slow movement in style. and the opening motive of the first movement in its intervallic content. The motive that dominates the first eight measures—very much in the style of a military bugle call—is first heard in the first violin, with a fragment from the motive serving as a response from the second violin.

Ex. 98-A

The motive shifts up a fourth for the next four bars with the entire theme cadencing quietly on the dominant. The second (longer) section of the Scherzo is more aggressive, featuring an instant phrase modulation to B major and an ascending B major scale in eighth notes. Four bars later, we are back in G major with the opening motive, which then continues to dominate in one form or another for most of the remainder of the section, crescendoing at one point to a fortissimo climax.

The Trio, now in C major, marks a major change in mood and a new theme that, in fact, bears a strong family resemblance to the modulatory transition theme in the first movement of the quartet (see Ex. 96-B above).

Ex. 98-B

The same motive begins the second, lengthier section of the trio, but is soon replaced by a more lighthearted, mostly staccato stream of eighth-note triplets. The new triplet motive alternates and sometimes combines with the original motive throughout the entire section with the original "bugle call" motive also making a reappearance near the end of the section, particularly in the second violin.

After the second ending of the Trio and before the repeat of the Scherzo section, there is a brief (eight bar) retransition that turns the key back toward G major while further exploiting variants of the original "bugle call" motive.

This is not necessarily one of the most remarkable of Beethoven's Scherzos from the early quartets, but it maintains a high energy level to the end and shows clear motivic links back to themes from earlier movements. Links of this sort are by no means common in early Beethoven and demonstrate an unusual concern on the composer's part with unifying the entire four-movement structure.

Movement IV

Allegro molto quasi Presto, G major, 2/4

The first subject begins in the solo cello and is echoed four bars later by a variant of the initial phrase in the first violin as all the other parts join in.

Ex. 99-A

The second phrase cadences on the dominant but does not stay there for long; the solo cello repeats a variant of the opening phrase, heading the key briefly through E minor and C major, while introducing a couple of new motives. After a cadence on the original tonic of G major, the earlier ideas are repeated with some variation for the next eight bars until the entire section concludes with a more emphatic cadence.

We then encounter a new section that rather vigorously develops a "new" motive, but one that is somewhat related to the first subject and even more to the opening motive from the Scherzo movement.

Ex. 99-B

While Beethoven may not be exhibiting here the same sort of extreme motivic concentration that he demonstrated in the first movement of the F major quartet, he is again showing himself to be more concerned than usual with setting up links between motives and themes that occur in separate movements.

But while this new section heralds the beginning of the modulatory transition, Beethoven is slow to bring about the actual modulation. But then, after a two-bar linking passage from the solo violin, we are plunged madly into the middle of a brief but intense mini-development section in D minor. Motivically, it focuses primarily on the opening bars of the first subject before introducing some new, across-the-bar syncopated rhythms in the last few bars in a passage that prolongs the dominant of the new key to come.

By the time the second subject has arrived, all vestiges of D minor have faded and we're securely locked into a cheerful D major with a pleasant new theme that employs some across-the-bar syncopations that were anticipated in the last part of the modulatory transition.

Ex. 99-C

After the initial statement, viola and cello begin a varied restatement that is quickly picked up by the two violins. Soon the motive from the second bar comes to the fore and, combined with some weak-beat sforzandi, introduces a passage that appears to be driving to an emphatic cadence on D major.

But the cadence never occurs. Instead we enter into a new passage, which we'll refer to as the closing section for lack of a better label, featuring a somewhat surprising series of fairly slow-moving (quarter notes and half notes) arpeggiations of C-sharp diminished chords, alternating with dominant sevenths on A. After eight bars of this, a catchy (if brief) new theme appears in the even more surprising key of F major over a dominant pedal in that key. After eight bars the tonic note (F natural) shifts up a half step and, after a series of tonicizations, ends up back in the "normal" key of D major. An authentic cadence in that key introduces the codetta, which reintroduces a variant of the theme that began the movement and, after a very lengthy and quite repetitive elaboration of the tonic chord of D major marked by a number of weak-beat sfzorandi, the exposition finally comes to a close.

The reason for what at first glance seems like an excessive insistence on the tonic chord at the end of the exposition becomes immediately clear when the development begins by jumping up a half-step to E-flat major. The juxtaposition of the two unrelated keys is, especially after all that insistence on the tonic of D major, quite effective. The development section starts by quoting much of the first subject in the new key, but quickly passes on to focus on the motive from the beginning of the modulatory transition, while modulating to C minor. After more than twenty bars are spent developing this transition motive and some skittering passagework in the first violin, a variant of the first subject occurs in C major, which is almost immediately subject to imitation over a repeated pedal on tonic. The pedal eventually drops out and a new stepwise motive is bandied about, sometimes starting on different beats and sometimes in inversion as the music builds to a fortissimo climax in the key of D major.

The music quiets as the cello begins to sustain a pedal on D, and the quarter-note arpeggios from the closing section make a comeback, this time alternating between F-sharp diminished chords and dominant sevenths on D. After thirteen bars of this pedal, the D slips up to E-flat, which is soon heard as the dominant of A-flat, as we arrive at yet another false return of the first subject. The dominant seventh chord in A-flat is cleverly reconfigured into a German sixth chord that drops a half-step to a dominant seventh on D, and Beethoven eventually manages to transport us back to the original tonic of D major for the recapitulation.

While this development section may lack the almost continuous intensity and motivic concentration of the development section from the first movement, it is nevertheless ambitious and formidable, with the element of surprise playing an unusually large role.

Much of the recapitulation progresses as could be expected. There are, as usual, modifications in the original modulatory transition, but the proceedings are once again interrupted by a plunge into the parallel minor (G minor this time around). The second subject, closing section and codetta all make their appearances on cue and in the appropriate key.

The coda is not a lengthy one; it re-introduces the first subject yet again in C major but makes its way quickly to G major and heads toward a vigorous conclusion.

String Quartet in C minor, Op. 18, No. 4

Another favorite of audiences and performers everywhere, the C minor quartet combines Beethoven's traditional C minor pathos and intensity with (particularly in the first movement) some of his most memorable and beguiling themes.

Movement I

Allegro ma non tanto, C minor, Common time

This is a passionate, intense movement that has impressed most audiences since Beethoven's day. The first four bars of the first movement are as packed as any the young Beethoven ever wrote. The first subject is notable for, among other things, the compact but expressive gestures of its melody. The first two bars present an initial motive that, although squeezed into the space of a minor third, proves to be a vehicle of great dramatic intensity. The pulsating tonic pedal played by the cello has often been used before by Beethoven (and a wide range of other composers) but perhaps never so effectively. It underscores a simple enough harmonic progression—tonic for the first bar and a leading tone full-diminished seventh for the second.

Ex. 100-A

But the dissonant diminished chord, combined with the sf accents, manages to project a sense of menace almost instantly. Beethoven moves the motive up a fourth for bars 3-4 and the effect may be even more ominous, particularly when the accented D-flat in the viola grates against the pedal C below it in the fourth measure.

In bars 5-8 (and beyond, since Beethoven immediately extends the idea), another powerful motive is introduced—the ascending leap of a major sixth, heard within the harmonic context of a diminished supertonic chord over the continued pulsating eighth notes in the cello (now joined in that pattern by second violin and viola). After a quick, weak-beat resolution to the C minor tonic as the dissonant high point of the phrase resolves down by step, we experience another dramatic leap, a tritone (or diminished fifth), within the context of another leading tone full-diminished seventh chord. This time Beethoven allows the high point of the phrase to descend further, and relieves the tension somewhat with a quick cadence on tonic.

Ex. 100-B

The dramatic ascending motive is further developed in the next four bars where the composer crescendos into the first authentic perfect cadence on tonic, one fortified with a robust series of multiple-stopped chords. But Beethoven is not quite finished with this highly expressive motive; in the next few bars he brings it back in the form of an ascending octave, which then descends expressively over a series of suspensions. Then, after a cadential extension of six bars, the first subject area comes to a dramatic close on the dominant.The modulatory transition immediately asserts itself with an instant phrase modulation to A-flat major (beginning on the dominant seventh of that new key).

Ex. 100-C

The modulatory transition motive is a clever one, notable particularly for its rhythmic personality and the nifty interplay between first and second violins and, in its last two bars, its motivic connection to the first subject as well. The first four-bar passage in A-flat major gives way to one in F minor, after which a B-flat chord is asserted, the dominant of the second subject to come.

Like the second four-bar phrase of the first subject, the second subject, in E-flat major, is characterized by a strong ascending leap of a major sixth. But the harmonic context is very different this time; the dramatic leap from the first subject has been domesticated and is now a supremely lyrical gesture.

Ex. 100-D

The first violin's flippant little commentary on the second violin's broadly lyrical phrase is wonderfully glib and provides the perfect foil for it. After the first four bars of the new theme, the ascending major sixth is transformed into an octave, after which the melody works its way back down the scale in a series of suspensions. This leads directly into a bubbling little Mozartean transition of four bars that comes to a cadence on the dominant.

The closing section is clearly articulated with some weak-beat sforzandi giving it a particularly distinctive character.

Ex. 100-E

The closing section develops into a series of syncopated sequential passages that manage to generate a great deal of momentum, but Beethoven never really abandons the key of E-flat and, after a linking passage of four bars, the codetta appears.

Ex. 100-F

This is marked by another catchy little motive in octaves, this one topped off with some vigorous multiple stops. But just eight bars later, the exposition concludes quietly.

The development section is a masterful one. It begins in G minor with the first subject being presented up an octave in the first violin, while the other strings accompany it with the same pulsating eighth-note pattern originally assigned to the cello alone. The texture is thick and unyielding, although the original reiterated pedal in the cello part is surrendered after just two measures, and the cello from that point on shows more independent movement than in the original exposition version. We do miss the melodic movement in the inner voices in this version of the first subject, but there is no question about the raw power of this new presentation.

After twelve measures, the first two bars of the subject are clipped off and begin to be treated as a separate and distinctive motive, sometimes creating sharp dissonances in the process. This new fragment appears first in the cello but it—or sub-fragments from it— soon appear in the other voices as well, along with a new dotted-eighth and sixteenth motive based on ascending and descending half steps. The motive continues to echo through the entire texture in various clever ways and is soon joined with the dramatic ascending leap that characterized the second half of the first subject. Meanwhile a gradual shift to C minor takes place, and the viola adds a reiterated pedal on the dominant into the mix. Soon the key moves to F minor and then, after a series of dominant-tonic cadences in that key, shifts to F major in time for the second subject to make its appearance. After just eight bars, we return to F minor where the repeated second theme takes on a more ominous tone and then, after a series of syncopated suspensions given extra urgency by the crescendo that propels them, the recapitulation returns in C minor.

In the recapitulation, the first subject is transformed yet again, this time by means of a dynamic new countermelody in the second violin and viola.

Ex. 100-G

The first subject carries through for its original thirteen-bar statement, but this time the passage of rhythmically emphatic multiple-stopped chords that follow are extended for a longer period, the first violin filling in the spaces between the lower-voiced chords. But the dramatic ascending motive does not return this time around, and an ascending chromatic line in the cello transports us from E-flat to C major as the second subject is recapitulated. The distribution of parts is somewhat different this time, the lyrical melody doubled at one point in octaves between viola and second violin, while the first violin adds a playful trill on the dominant. But the second subject concludes largely as in the exposition and the closing section and codetta take their places accordingly.

The coda is, naturally, somewhat new; the first two bars of the first subject return, but are reconfigured for their (temporary) new key of D-flat major. Those two bars are then treated sequentially over a surging chromatic line in the cello that deposits us back safely in C minor. After a few more backward glances at the first subject, we come to a vigorous conclusion on the original tonic.

Movement II— Scherzo

Andante scherzoso quasi Allegretto, C major, 3/8

This particular Scherzo, taken at a slightly slower than usual tempo, is actually in a full sonata form. Its first subject, stated in the second violin, begins with three repeated eighth notes followed by an ascending leap of a fourth and a descending scale in sixteenth notes.

Ex. 101-A

Other than having a distinctive rhythmic identity, it is not a particularly remarkable theme. But it does work well as a subject for imitation; the viola enters at the fifth in bar 5 (actually a fourth lower) and the first violin comes in at the octave in measure 10. The cello enters a few bars later, but breaks off the imitation quickly to provide harmonic support. After the imitation works its way through, a sequence and a couple of secondary dominant chords provide some momentum, and there is a last-minute chromatic modulation to bring about the new key of G major, just in time for the introduction of the second subject.

The second subject is, if anything, more pedestrian than the first and doesn't provide a great deal of stylistic contrast, although it does offer some new dotted rhythms, trills and some sforzandi, now moved to the second beat of the measure.

Ex. 101-B

After a brief transitional passage featuring some rapid plagal cadences, the imitation from the first subject begins to start up again, this time beginning on E. But the imitation is short-lived and yields quickly to an attractive little passage that cadences on the dominant in G major.

The closing section theme contrasts more strongly with the first subject with its sinuous line, replete with lower and upper neighbors, although it once again features three repeated staccato eighth notes in the second measure.

Ex. 101-C

Once again imitation plays a role as the closing section unfolds, with the first three bars repeated in the second violin down a fifth after a single measure. The imitation lapses in the fourth measure as a poignant little lyrical phrase blossoms out, one that begins with an ascending octave leap and gradually descends, primarily in sixteenth-note semitones. From that point on and throughout most of the remaining closing section, the first two bars are tossed back and forth among first and second violins and viola, the two latter instruments sometimes combining to present the theme in thirds.

The codetta presents two motives: the first employs the three repeated staccato eighth notes that played an important role in the first section (and a lesser role in the second subject and closing section), and the second is based on an ascending fifth followed by a quickly descending sixteenth-note scale. The codetta begins very quietly, picks up a little sonority along the way, and brings the exposition to a pianissimo conclusion.

Not surprisingly, the development section, which begins in C minor, makes a liberal use of imitation. As the key moves first toward E-flat major and then G minor, the first four bars of the first subject are actively imitated with all the instruments getting into the act. It is on the verge of becoming a bit predictable when the imitation breaks off and launches into a series of the repeated staccato eighth notes played in block chords by all four instruments as the key moves from D minor toward A minor.

Following this rather "muscular" passage, with its powerful block chord dissonances and off-beat sforzandi, is a quieter, more ethereal passage that quite effectively brings about the modulation from A minor to C minor by prolonging the dominant (and leading tone chord) of A minor until a last-minute switch from G-sharp to G-natural transforms the chord into an inverted dominant seventh in C minor.

The recapitulation begins stealthily with the first subject slipping in quietly. Once established, the first subject will undergo imitation as in the exposition, but there is a new element added: new dotted-sixteenth and thirty-second note rhythms in the viola add a whole new dimension and complicate the texture considerably, casting the imitation into a whole new light.

But the addition of the new viola rhythms (later transferred to the second violin as the imitation begins to take its course) is really the only outstanding new feature throughout most of the recapitulation. The second subject is brought back in a slightly altered form in what initially appears to be in G major, but is soon revealed as C major. The closing section and codetta return in C major as one would expect. At first, the coda, with its frequent references to the first subject and the block chord repeated notes that played such a major role in the development, does not seem to be adding much to the argument. But it does manage to introduce some tonal ambiguity, so that the final dominant-tonic cadences, reiterated several times over, come as a welcome reaffirmation of the key.

Movement III—Menuetto

Allegretto, C minor, 3/4

Since the inclusion of both a Scherzo and a Menuetto in the same quartet would have been a very unusual configuration, it is somewhat surprising that this Menuetto offers little in the way of novelty, save for a few charming details.

The first section of the Menuetto, only eight bars long, begins (after a familiar triadic arpeggiation) with a surging ascending line made more intense by third-beat sforzandi.

Ex. 102-A

Although the theme starts securely in C minor, it appears to move toward a tonicization of the relative major almost immediately. But the second phrase, also based initially on a strong ascending line, ends up squarely back on the original tonic a couple of bars later.

The second section of the Menuetto (as usual, quite a bit longer than the first) appears to begin cheerfully in C major with a more chromatically-inflected version of the opening theme. But it is just a ruse: D-flats and B-flats soon make their way into the texture and it quickly becomes apparent that the C major chord is just functioning as a dominant chord in F minor. But as soon as the new key is established as a temporary tonal center, Beethoven shifts to D-flat for almost eight bars, as first and second violins and viola all take up the chromatically sinuous version of the theme heard just eight bars earlier. Just at the end of this passage, however, the D-flat triad becomes an inverted German sixth chord and we seem to be headed toward a cadence back on F minor. But that also is an illusion in this tonally precarious climate, since Beethoven abandons it immediately for C minor, prolonging its dominant for several measures beneath a serious of passionate dissonances. Typical of rounded binary forms, the theme from the first section returns in a somewhat more chromatically-inflected form. All of this is followed by an extended cadential tag that displays some "bite" in its use of minor ninth dissonances by the violins over the repeated dominants in the cello.

The first section of the Trio, in the key of A-flat, immediately presents us with a strong contrast—a series of lilting two-bar phrases that descend the A-flat triad in the second violin against eighth-note triplets outlining the tonic and dominant chords in the first violin. (See Ex. 102-B.) This pleasant phrase is echoed by the cello two measures later, while the viola provides a simple but effective countermelody.

Ex. 102-B

The same melody is eventually presented up a fourth, harmonized by a secondary dominant chord (V/V), and eventually we proceed to a cadence on E-flat, which now appears to have taken on (at least temporarily) the function of a tonic.

The second part of the trio adds nothing new, restating the lyrical first section theme on E-flat, until a simple but skillful modulation returns us to A-flat major, where a variant of the first section theme returns on the original pitch level. We close out the section with a transposed version of the measures that concluded the first section and another of Beethoven's brief but mysterious little chromatic retransition passages to prepare us for the return of the Scherzo (which, the score instructs us, is to be taken a little more quickly than the original).

Movement IV

Allegro, C minor, Alla breve

Do any of the later movements of the C minor quartet fulfill the promise shown by the first? Possibly not, but the finale—a classic rondo—features a fiery refrain theme and abundant contrast, which combine for an unusually attractive movement.

The refrain, set out in a standard rounded binary form, begins with a three-note ascent to a descending series of broken thirds.

Ex. 103-A

The second four bar phrase is a varied repeat of the first, and the first section ends on dominant. The second section of the refrain begins similarly, but then introduces a new pattern that drops sequentially by step.

Ex. 103-B

The harmonic rhythm is quite a bit quicker here, plowing through the circle of fifths (after tonicizing the subdominant) before coming to rest on dominant once again. The last four bars of the first section (slightly varied) return, rounding out the a-ba' refrain form.

The first episode begins instantly in A-flat major. The melody, beginning in the second violin, is more sustained and lyrical, starting with an ascending fourth and undulating gently before eventually peaking an octave higher and then gradually descending. The first violin floats a sustained countermelody above it, creating a lovely series of suspensions and half-step resolutions.

Ex. 103-C

The second half of the episode begins with the same leap of a fourth, but evolves into a series of ascending fourths and diminished fifths that are in turn imitated by the first violin. True to form, this "b" section is followed by another "a'" section and the entire episode closes on A-flat major.

The refrain follows immediately, with the repetition of the first section written out (rather than simply indicated with repeat markings) and made even busier by the replacement of the original staccato quarter notes by eighth-note patterns. The second section of the refrain is also fully written out, and it too has been varied by the filling in of the original quarter note patterns by eighth notes.

Again there is no transition; episode two follows immediately in the key of C major (the "C" episode in the typical A-B-A-C-B'-A rondo pattern). It is a quirky little section that Watson refers to as a rustic "musette," and the first section features an almost drone-like repetition of the tonic. The melody, such as it is, consists primarily of three sixteenth-note triplet "pick-up" notes prefacing a series of staggered whole notes on the tonic, heard first in the cello and subsequently in the viola and second violin. At the top of this little pyramid, the first violin provides some eighth-note melodic activity vaguely reminiscent of the refrain theme. The second section of this episode offers little that is new; the same game is played (or a slight variant of it), but this time on the dominant.

A variation of the refrain follows. In the first section, the tune starts in the second violin, but the first chases after it and soon reasserts its dominance. The second section is somewhat rearranged but the essence remains intact.

This time there is a transition of seven bars, one that toys energetically with the first three notes of the refrain. A variant of episode 1 then appears in C major, its lovely chain of suspensions still evident, but provided with more vigorous rhythmic accompaniment this time around.

There is also a retransition back to the refrain this time, one that develops the opening bar of the refrain theme briefly as it flirts quickly with C minor and F minor, providing just enough tonal variety so that we feel as if we've actually been on a journey when we make our way back to C major for the final refrain. The final refrain is marked Prestissimo and generally goes by at tremendous speed. This final version of the refrain leaves out the "b" subsection ( not an unusual ploy) but extends the "a" subsection into the coda, which introduces one new syncopated rhythmic figure before driving to a fortissimo cadence, with the last bars bringing back the sixteenth-note triplet "pick-up" notes from the "C" episode for good measure.

String Quartet in A major, Op. 18, No. 5

The fifth quartet in the set is generally applauded for its light-hearted lyricism and unpretentiousness, but it has not completely escaped negative assessments. Kerman states that, whereas previous first movements in this group have been "intellectual and dense," the first movement of the A major quartet is "positively bland." This, Kerman asserts, is simply part of a pattern demonstrating that, in the last three quartets of Op. 18, Beethoven was experimenting with the nature of— and relationships between— the various movements of the traditional quartet cycle. Beethoven's avoidance of the traditional slow movement in the C minor quartet may be seen as an expression of this tendency, as well as the fact that the quartet in A major places the Menuetto movement before the slow movement, although ample precedent for this exists in both Haydn and Mozart. It is in fact a string quartet by Mozart—the string quartet in A major, K. 464—that has been cited time and again as a model for Beethoven's A major quartet, and that work can hardly be considered a role model for revolution.

And yet it is true that, expect for the intense first movement of the C minor quartet, many of the movements in the last three quartets appear to eschew the most dramatic gestures, replacing them with elegant or merely clever ones. There are exceptions to this of course (the slow movement—La Malinconia— of the string quartet in B-flat would seem to be an obvious one), but in general there does seem to be a somewhat different mood to the last three quartets in the set. Nevertheless, most commentators continue to find that each of them, in its own way, provides convincing evidence that Beethoven had, in this collection of six quartets, reached his "early maturity."

Movement I

Allegro, A major, 6/8

Kerman's comments aside, most commentators have found the first movement to be attractive, if for no other reason than its delightful themes.

The first subject begins boldly with triple stops asserting the tonic chord, after which the melody makes it way up the A major scale in three-note sprints, playing off against triadic arpeggios in the cello. By the fourth measure, a more lilting phrase is introduced over a tonic pedal.

Ex. 104-A

The theme, which cadences on the tonic in bar 11, is followed by a modulatory transition featuring swirling sixteenth notes and off-beat eighth-note interjections from the second violin, viola and cello. Although its motivic elements are interesting enough (and will play an important role later in the movement), the passage doesn't actually modulate. In fact, Kerman refuses to acknowledge it as a "real" modulatory transition at all, claiming that it's just part two of the first subject.

Nevertheless, after eight bars, we do get a somewhat cursory modulation to the dominant to prepare for the second subject. When it enters, it's actually in E minor, although it moves quickly through A minor and then G major.

Ex. 104-B

The second subject then repeats an octave higher, split between second and first violins, modulating to E major along the way. It cadences in E major and leads immediately to the closing section. This idea is new, but possibly derived from the first three notes of the first subject.

Ex. 104-C

The first two bars are immediately imitated at the fifth and repeated sequentially several times over the next few measures.

After a repeated cadential figure, a somewhat novel codetta appears, immediately attracting attention to itself by opening on an inverted dominant ninth.

Ex. 104-D

A few bars later this motive yields to a conventional cadence pattern that will take the exposition to its demure conclusion.

Once again the development section begins more or less as the codetta had left off, taking the codetta theme from F-sharp minor into D major. At that point, Beethoven re-introduces the first subject, which is presented with remarkably little adornment from beginning to end. The swirling sixteenth-note scale line that had followed the first subject in the exposition follows it here as well, taking it into D minor. After that point, the development section is dominated by a long, somewhat generic passage that does little more than prepare the dominant for the return to the original tonic of A major. There are a few stops along the way, and one lovely melodic idea springs up briefly, but on the whole the development section (the whole of which Kerman has characterized as "vacuous") ends on a pedestrian note.

The recapitulation offers no brilliant new surprises, but the new version of the modulatory transition is interesting for the amount of harmonic activity (all of it temporary) that it squeezes into a small space. The second subject occurs in A minor initially, but has brightened to A major by its conclusion. The closing section, its imitation and sequential activity intact, actually begins in E minor as it had in the exposition, but four bars later moves toward A major. The codetta, as brief as ever, is followed by an equally brief and not altogether inspired coda that is little more than a frenetically ornamented cadence formula.

Movement II—Menuetto

A major, 3/4

The Menuetto's strengths are similar to those of the opening movement, i.e., pleasant melodic ideas presented in a straightforward and unpretentious manner. The first section features a nicely integrated three-phrase melody.

Ex. 105

The second section begins with a prolonged dominant over which a series of scale lines and triadic arpeggios are floated. After eight bars of this, however, the dominant resolves not to tonic, but deceptively to the submediant chord (F-sharp minor). A few bars later, Beethoven goes a bit farther afield, setting up a somewhat mysterious passage on C-sharp minor that crescendos to a fortissimo climax. The first theme then returns in all its innocence, but after eight bars the melody is subject to a series of overlapping imitative entries in a passage that may be the most effective in the entire Menuetto.

The Trio presents a simple melody (played by the second violin and viola in octaves) that arpeggiates up to an A and then hovers around it for the next eight bars, while third beat sforzandi add to the rhythmic interest. After a mildly contrasting passage of eight bars, the Trio's opening bars return and the whole section ends back on tonic, after which the D.C. marking takes us back for a repeat of the Menuetto section.

Movement III

Andante cantabile, D major, 2/4

The third movement is an attractive theme and variations that increases in interest as it unfolds. The theme is elegant in its simplicity, sixteen bars in length in a traditional rounded binary form. Initiated by an expressive ascending major sixth, it descends down to its first note and then ascends back up a sixth.

Ex. 106-A

The melody is played in sixths with the second violin and harmonized with a small repertoire of standard chords. Articulation patterns are subtle, but nevertheless play a large role in defining the theme's identity. Mild contrast is provided after the double bar by a somewhat more rhythmically active, but still rather languid phrase. Then the initial four-bar phrase returns, played an octave higher by the first violin and doubled in octaves by the second, with the viola providing parallel sixths.

Kerman has made the point that Beethoven seemed to believe that the simplest of melodies made the best fodder for variations. Kerman himself was unimpressed by this particular theme, claiming that it is "not a tune at all, but an abstract construction."

Be that as it may, the theme works very well for the first variation. In this variant, the opening sixth is intact (although a dotted-eighth and sixteenth note rhythm takes the place of the original eighth note) and the general contour remains the same. The melody, played softly by the cello, is imitated at the octave after two bars by the viola and two bars after that by the second violin. The first violin joins in a measure later with a partial tonal imitation. The variation increases in texture and volume as it proceeds and off-beat sfs in the eleventh measure add to its strong sense of identity.

The second half of the variation adds two interesting new elements that reinforce each other—a borrowed minor subdominant chord and a short but effective countermelody in the second violin (later echoed by the first), both of which inject a note of poignancy in the otherwise cheerful banter between the instruments.

The third variation is pleasant, if unremarkable. Cello, viola, and (briefly) first violin break the melody into smaller units against repetitive patterns of sixty-fourth notes rendered by the second violin. In the second half, the first violin joins the second, introducing some upper-neighbor nonharmonic tones that blur the simple harmonies somewhat.

In contrast to the two previous variations, the fourth is quiet, legato, and presents an interesting and even surprising re-harmonization of the melody that reveals a barely suspected depth of emotion within the melody.

In direct contrast to the fourth variation, the fifth is a bright, almost purposely trivial little march.

Ex. 106-B

The viola doubles the melody down an octave while the cello pumps out an active if uninspired march-like bass line. But of course all of this is a set-up. After both sections of the variation are presented and repeated, we are jolted by an abrupt and "magical" modulation to B-flat major that introduces a coda, widely acknowledged to be the most interesting part of the entire movement. Once all four instruments have joined back in the fray, we are presented with the most wonderfully variegated texture heard to this point.

Ex. 106-C

We do not stay in B-flat major very long. Beethoven modulates back to D major in what is perhaps the most obvious way: he adds a G-sharp to a B-flat major chord, transforming it into a German sixth chord, and resolves it down a semitone to a dominant chord on A, which brings us immediately back in the world of D major. But while the effect may be on one level obvious, it is nevertheless striking and effective. We stay in D major for a while, the melody almost always present in one part or another, while the clever little viola part shown in Ex. 106-C also makes the rounds. Beethoven gradually increases the volume, only to diminish it again to piano and begin the process again. After a sonorous climax, to which a series of off-beat sforzandi contribute greatly, we arrive at a fermata on the dominant. Following this, there are a few more somewhat nostalgic looks back at the theme, and then a final cadence as the movement concludes quietly.

Movement IV

Allegro, A major, Alla breve

This is a delightfully energetic movement and Watson hits it perfectly when he refers to Beethoven's initial four-note motive as "mischievous." This little motive is tossed around with such enthusiasm that a comparison with the motivic concentration of the first movement of the F major quartet might seem to be in order (or more remotely, the first movement of the famous fifth symphony). (See. Ex. 107-A.)

But the effect here is quite different than in those other well-known examples. The impression made here is not so much concentration and tension as an abundance of playfulness. It is still an impressive accomplishment, of course, all the more so because this movement (in part because of the nature of the first theme) fits in so well with the mother three movements of the quartet.

Ex. 107-A

After the initial four-note motive makes its appearance, first in the viola, then in the first violin, and a measure later in the second violin, the first theme passes to a series of carefully articulated eighth-note patterns, the whole passage coming to rest on the dominant. The next phrase continues tossing around the initial four-note motive in the three lower parts while the first violin continues the eighth-note pattern from measure five. In measure 12, a new, more broadly lyrical phrase of four bars is introduced in the first violin and doubled at the sixth by the second. But still the original four-note motive is in evidence, heard first in the cello and then bouncing to the upper parts as the cello and viola assume the more broadly lyrical phrase. The more lyrical phrase then fades from the scene. But elements from the first subject are still very much present, as the original tonic key of A major is gradually broken down in preparation for the second subject on the dominant.

The second subject contrasts dramatically with the first; it consists of a series of whole notes ascending in perfect fourths, each pair starting a step lower. (Kerman sees in it a resemblance to one of Mozart's themes in the K. 464 quartet.) The new theme starts on E major and ends eight measures later on its dominant, but in between the tonality is quite fluid, consisting of a series of diminished seventh chords, none of which resolve "normally." But the eight-bar melody is repeated again, this time an octave higher in the first violin against a series of descending quarter notes in the second violin and viola, a countermelody that is to become as important in defining the personality of the second subject as the original melody itself.

Ex. 107-B

The harmony is much clearer for this repetition of the melody, and in fact the ambiguous diminished chords that accompany its first appearance never recur.

After a brief transitional passage, the closing section enters. It's more notable for its handling of dynamics and weak-beat sforzandi than any unique melodic quality, although it does at one point employ the rising fourths motive from the second subject in the cello line. This is followed in due course by a codetta that engineers a lively drive to the final cadence on E major and the end of the exposition.

In the second ending that takes us to the development section, we are presented with a charming (if abrupt) chromatic modulation to F-sharp minor, and that new key controls the action for a while as elements of the first theme are juxtaposed in all four parts. The first violin dominates, quoting large portions of the first subject almost note for note, but the initial four-note motive is frequently broken off and exploited against it. The key soon shifts to D major, where a new, descending countermelody in half notes is now introduced in the second violin and viola, as the cello continues to play with the original four-note motive. The intensity levels picks up a bit when the key changes to D minor and some grating dissonances are periodically asserted. The four-note motive is never absent for long, but the eighth-note passages heard in the first subject are also quoted and sequenced.

After a long and noisy dominant preparation on G, the key shifts to C major where the dynamic level diminishes to piano and, somewhat surprisingly, the first four notes of the second subject are heard, given an almost- chorale-like harmonization. But after just four bars we are back to the free-wheeling exploitation of the opening motive, in consort now with the descending quarter-note melody from the second subject. We quickly leave C major for A minor and one of the quietest and most mysterious passages of the entire movement. Gradually, the texture thins down and we are left with a long reiterated dominant pedal over which some surprising dissonances are heard.

But after a fermata on a dominant seventh chord, we are back in A major for the recapitulation. Things proceed normally until the arrival of the second subject, which is altered harmonically to bring about a temporary modulation to B minor. But there is relatively little novelty from that point on. The coda is yet another little development section that brings back the usual suspects, although it does so with a reckless abandon that peaks about two-thirds through the section. The final measures are positively demure by comparison, with the four-note motive staking its claim almost to the last measure.

Kerman's remarks in regard to the movement as a whole are as perceptive as usual. Beethoven, he suggests, is striving for a "glossy, easy, relaxed brilliance." There is little doubt that he achieved it.

String Quartet in B-flat major, Op. 18, No. 6

Critical opinion on the sixth quartet of the Op. 18 set has been somewhat mixed over the years. The last movement, its introduction designated as La Malinconia, has been given a lot of attention, and provoked a fair amount of speculation as to its significance in Beethoven's personal life. But the other movements—particularly the first—have not always been treated so respectfully. The first three movements of the quartet have seldom been characterized as inadequate but, composed as they were at a time when Beethoven was beginning to show more and more glimpses of his future greatness, they are often seen as unexceptional.

Movement I

Allegro con brio, B-flat major, Alla breve

The first subject for this movement is somewhat old-fashioned in a whimsical sort of way. Beginning on tonic and marching methodically up the tonic triad, it also makes a conspicuous use of a turning figure that plays an important role later in the movement.

Ex. 108-A

The harmonic rhythm is rather slow, sitting on tonic for the first five measures before introducing the dominant right before a cadence in bar 7. Measures 6 and 7 are repeated twice more in the cello and violin, and the cello extends its last repetition to finally introduce a secondary dominant chord tonicizing the dominant chord (F major). The turning figure in measure 1 is then repeated several times to provide a little cadential tag that rounds off the initial presentation of the first subject at eighteen bars.

The first subject then begins to repeat (with slightly different instrumentation), but after some time merges with the modulatory transition, notable for its off-beat sforzandi, rapid scale lines and staccato repeated notes.

The second subject, in the "normal" key of the dominant (F major), is a march-like tune, notable for its dotted rhythms and grace notes.

Ex. 108-B

It moves fairly quickly into F minor and, a few bars after that, rather cleverly toward D-flat major. Now in this reasonably remote key, the melody takes on a much warmer aura as it is sequenced and extended, fading to pianissimo as it moves back (at the last minute) to F major.

This sensitive moment is interrupted by a series of sforzando chords, and we pass into a closing section that provides some strong contrast, but not a lot of intrinsic interest. The closing section wanders briefly through a series of tonal centers so that the codetta, when it arrives, feels very much like a return to stability as it proudly trumpets the key of F major with the assistance of motives from the first subject.

The development section again begins where the codetta left off, with an enthusiastic exploitation of the first two measures of the first subject, particularly the turning figure. The development begins in F major but, by measure ten, makes a bold modulation to D major, where fragments from the first subject continue to be developed imitatively. It soon becomes clear that the key of D major is merely acting as a long preparation for G minor, particularly when the D major triads are replaced by the more strident full-diminished sevenths on F-sharp. Then, after a one-measure break in the action, we encounter in the cello a staccato scale line outlining a V-i cadence in G minor (and employing a figure similar to one found in the first subject) that is immediately picked up in imitation by the viola and then by the second violin. The whole passage is then heard down a step in F major, and then another step lower in E-flat major, which moves after a while into E-flat minor, before the key is lowered one more time to D-flat major. It is all rather nicely paced, with the tension ebbing and flowing freely. Kerman is particularly admiring of the double counterpoint in this section, but ultimately declares that "unfortunately the idea is just too feeble, and too uniform" to keep our interest.

But Beethoven has a few more tricks to pull out of his hat for this development section. Yet another sequential repetition of the ascending staccato line takes us to B-flat minor, after which he sets up a cadence on F major. Will this take us back to the original tonic for the recapitulation? No, not yet. But the situation is a bit confusing at first, because the first subject does in fact appear to return—but in F major rather than B-flat major—and only the first couple of measures.

What follows this somewhat half-hearted false return is a long dominant preparation based in part on elements from the first subject, but also relying heavily on scale fragments loosely based on those from the modulatory transition. And although Beethoven throws in a couple of nods in the direction of other keys (notably G minor) and tries to keep up interest by varying the rhythmic momentum and texture, it's a relief when we finally arrive at the "true" recapitulation and the first subject returns in B-flat major.

The recapitulation is, naturally, varied a bit, particularly the repeat of the first subject as it merges into what was originally the modulatory transition. The turning figure from the first bar of the first subject is given an effective little "mini-development" section of its own, plus it introduces a very attractive new lyrical phrase that gradually makes its way up the scale, peaking on the unexpected chord of E-flat minor. The new theme quickly makes its way back down the scale and into more "conventional" tonal territory, stopping for quite a while on an F major chord that will soon propel us into the second subject, now in B-flat major. From this point on, there are few surprises. The original codetta now serves as the coda, bringing the movement to a robust close.

Movement II

Adagio ma non troppo, E-flat major, 2/4

As in the first movement, it appears that Beethoven is assuming a purposely antiquated style, much as Haydn did in the slow movement of his "Surprise" Symphony (Op. 94 in G major). The subject moves rather daintily up the tonic triad and down the dominant seventh. After the first four bars, the melody shifts to the second violin while the first plays a graceful countermelody above it.

Ex. 109-A

After a total of eight bars, a contrasting phrase is introduced, one that is characterized by new dotted-note figures and an initial descending line followed by a sweeping ascending line.

Ex. 109-B

The first four bars of the subject return in varied form in the first violin, the rhythms somewhat clipped and accompanied by new dotted-rhythm motives in the viola and cello.

At this point, the second subject enters in E-flat minor, the first violin and cello playing in octaves (later joined by the viola).

Ex. 109-C

A more ornate version of the first four bars is offered by the second violin, embellished by an elaborate flow of thirty-second notes in the first. The opening five-note motive of the theme is then presented in the cello up a minor third in G-flat major and is sequenced about, the first violin also echoing the motive amidst its flowing thirty-second note lines. The passage continues until capped off with an effective deceptive cadence on C-flat, after which a transitional passage takes us back in the direction of the original tonic of E-flat. The highlight of this is, without question, a particularly elegant flight of fancy from the solo violin that delivers us directly to the return of the first subject.

Not surprisingly, the first subject projects a somewhat different personality this time around. Although the melody is quoted note-for-note in the first violin, the texture is extremely thin, with each note of the accompaniment (especially a series of sixty-fourth note turns derived from the motives from the third and fourth bar) crucial to the somewhat austere effect. As the theme is repeated in the second violin, the first violin provides a novel accompaniment of off-beat staccato thirty-second notes. The texture is simplified for the return of the contrasting phrase (Ex. 109-B), but the initial four bars are not repeated this time. Instead, we move on to a coda that begins by quoting the second subject in C minor and goes on to incorporate motives from the first subject as well, finally delivering the movement to its quiet, pizzicato conclusion.

Movement III—Scherzo

Allegro, B-flat major, 3/4

Beethoven had for some time been fond of using off-beat accents to produce tension or to generate rhythmic excitement, especially in quieter passages, sometimes pairing them with unexpected shifts in the harmonic rhythm. Most of his earliest efforts in this direction could be seen as in one way or another building on Haydn's rhythmic novelties. But, in this case, Beethoven goes far beyond anything his teacher had ever achieved in respect to the manipulation of rhythm. He had never before presented such an extreme example of accented syncopations two-against-three cross-rhythms, and across the bar ties. And yet the result of employing all of these unusual devices is far from shocking; all of Beethoven's clever tricks seem to reside quite comfortably within the context of a jaunty Scherzo movement that is over-brimming with high spirits.

Ex. 110-A

The lower parts are quite conservative metrically, repeatedly accenting the downbeat so that the rhythmic freedom in the upper parts can be heard in sharp contrast.

Divorced from this exciting rhythm context (although such a thing is ultimately impossible here), the melodic patterns and harmonic support would both be considered unremarkable. The second violin harmonizes with the first in thirds and sixths and, initially, the harmonic vocabulary is restricted primarily to tonic and dominant.

The next four bars provide just a hint of chromaticism ,along with some sequential activity. In the seventh bar of the first section, not a single note falls on the first beat of the measure in the first violin part.

Ex. 110-B

Off-beat sforzandi are missing in the second section, but strong dynamic contrasts are still in evidence. There is even more rhythmic independence between the parts and the melody leaps around still more actively.

Ex. 110-C

This section also offers a bit more harmonic variety, employing a series of secondary dominants and an increase in the harmonic rhythm. More melodic variety is also provided with three separate motives appearing: the first, tied to the opening bars of the first section; the second, based on a series of staccato eighth notes harmonized in block chords, and the third, a three-note cadential tag that is repeated several times. The initial melodic phrase from the first section is brought back, also harmonized in block chords, and ornamented with a long-sustained trill in the first violin (reminiscent of a similar device in the variation movement of string quartet No. 5). Another repeated cadential tag takes us to a new series of staccato eighth notes, which eventually escort us to the end of the section.

The Trio is somewhat less remarkable. It is dominated by a new melodic motive, one that outlines a series of triads, each chord tone embellished by a lower neighbor.

Ex. 110-D

This repeated figure is eventually heard more as a decorative figure than the main melodic idea, and the stepwise melodic movement from the viola and cello soon takes on equal melodic significance. Although the second section of the Trio presents little true melodic contrast, the form unfolds in typical rounded binary fashion and there is a somewhat queer little transitional episode of four bars where Beethoven drums a B-flat minor into the listener's consciousness at high volume to prepare us for the return of the Scherzo section.

Movement IV—La Malinconia (Melancholy)

Adagio, B-flat major, 2/4

Allegretto quasi Allegro, B-flat major, 3/8

The title of the lengthy slow introduction—almost a second slow movement in itself—has understandably given rise to a great deal of speculation over the years. Exactly what (or "whose") "melancholy" is Beethoven referring to here? Some commentators begin the discussion by making reference to the alleged bouts of depression suffered by Beethoven's mother (a condition that has never been convincingly documented) and implying that Beethoven may have inherited a propensity for moodiness (at the very least) from his mother. Others point out that Beethoven himself had some cause for depression independently of any supposed genetic disposition. Even though his career was proceeding quite nicely in this period, it is quite possible that Beethoven was becoming increasingly unnerved by the early signs of hearing loss, which were to come to a head in the not too distant future. In June, 1801, Beethoven was to write to his friend Wegeler, expressing keen concern with his encroaching hearing difficulties, and the famous Heiligenstadt Testament, a letter written to his brothers Carl and Johann expressing his despair over his loss of hearing and other physical maladies (and even, some have suggested, threatening suicide) was written in October, 1802. And, of course, Beethoven was known to be despondent from time to time over his on-going romantic difficulties.

Is the reference to "melancholy," then, to be taken as a personal statement by Beethoven, indicative of the mood or frame of mind he was in while writing that particular movement? Subjective titles were almost unheard of in the earlier works of Beethoven and so the reference to La Malinconia certainly represents a very unusual gesture. But that does not necessarily indicate that it is a personal gesture, one revealing of Beethoven's emotional state. The slow movement for this quartet was not by any means an emotionally intense one, and the Scherzo—for all of its rhythmic wonders—is nevertheless a light-hearted movement. The Allegretto quasi Allegro fast movement that follows the "melancholy" introduction is likewise quite a gay and even flippant movement. It is quite possible that Beethoven simply saw the need to provide some strong emotional contrast between the Scherzo and the final fast movement. The fact that this would cause a sense of emotional "disconnect" between the movements was of no concern to Beethoven. In fact, he may well have sought such a disconnect, an early example of the sort of purposeful discontinuity often described in terms of "romantic irony" in the later works.

But whatever its symbolic significance may be, it is a remarkable introduction by the standards of the early nineteenth century. It begins with a series of slow-moving chords in B-flat major. The melody, given by the first violin and harmonized in sixths and thirds by the second, is a modest one: it begins on the third of the tonic chord, drops down to the tonic itself, and slowly works its way up to the fifth of the chord, climaxing with a triple grace note on the fifth. The second four bars are a slightly varied repeat of the first four, with the melody given down an octave by the second violin and the cello added on the bottom to darken the timbre. In the eighth bar of the introduction, he pauses on an inverted dominant chord. But from that point on, he abandons the key of B-flat major and begins to move tentatively toward C minor, introducing his first diminished chord in the process. The first violin repeats the same melodic phrase that began the introduction, but the third bar of that phrase is now reharmonized, the repeated Fs sitting over a dominant seventh in the key of C minor.

But the key of C minor never arrives. Instead, Beethoven introduces a very puzzling string of six full-diminished seventh chords in a row, none of them having obvious tonal implications.

Ex. 111-A

The soprano and bass notes of the dominant seventh on G both expand outward, resulting in an inverted B minor chord, ornamented by three grace notes similar to those heard first in the fourth bar of the introduction and which may be seen as derived from the melodic movement in the previous measure. From this point on, the melody (such as it is) is transferred back and forth between the first and second violins, the former always rendered piano and the latter forte.

Beethoven had previously employed brief successions of nonfunctional diminished sevenths in earlier compositions, but never in such an extended fashion, and never with the same intense result.

Following this series of diminished chords, the melody of the first four bars is re-established pianissimo while the tonality seems to clarify somewhat, suggesting movement toward E minor. This is realized briefly in the next two bars, as a new melodic idea is introduced in the second violin—an ascending minor sixth followed by a descending line. This new melodic fragment is picked up immediately in altered form by the first violin, but the sense of E minor is abandoned almost immediately. Over the next seven measures, as the rising sixth motive is exploited by both violins (separately) and the cello, the key continues to wander, briefly suggesting E-flat minor and settling for an instant on C major/minor. But there are no dominant-tonic cadences here of any sort, so the tonality is necessarily fluid at best.

The passage exploiting the ascending sixth motive is followed by a series of alternating forte and piano quarter-note chords (some minor, some diminished), which again fail to project any clear sense of key, but which are constructed on top of an ascending bass line in the cello. Eventually, the tonality becomes clearer, but only for very brief periods of time. Another ascending cello line, complete with the triple grace-note ornamentations, eventually directs us to B-flat minor, and the slow introduction finally comes to a conclusion with a fermata on the dominant in that key.

Is this a musical portrayal of "melancholy?" Some commentators have preferred to hear "mystery" or "tension," or even "alienation" in Beethoven's exceptional slow introduction. However it might be heard by the average listener, what follows certainly comes as a surprise.

The first two sprightly bars of the Allegretto quasi Allegro constitute the basic motive for the rest of the movement. The next two consist of a sequential repetition followed by a leap to a high Bb and a gradual descent after that, all within a near-frantic flow of sixteenth notes that must recall the Scherzo movement to some extent. (See Ex. 111-B.)

The first violin dominates the texture, which consists of simple harmonies with no real surprises, although conventional tonicizations are sprinkled about and occasional off-beat sforzandi add rhythmic interest.

Ex. 111-B

The original statement of the first theme is eight bars long, ending on dominant. The theme is immediately repeated, this time ending back on tonic. We then proceed to a transitional passage developing the first bar of the theme, moving first toward C major and then F major.

Analysts have described the form of this movement in different ways. Some have preferred to think of it as a sonata form without a development section, while others have tabbed it as a rondo in which one of the episodes simply restates the refrain. One thing is very clear: the entire movement is completely dominated by the opening theme. Mildly contrasting passages in new keys are offered once or twice, but the original theme is never far from the listener's consciousness.

The other thing that is abundantly clear about this part of the movement is that its most significant feature has nothing to do with its themes but, rather, with the fact that those themes are interrupted more than once by dramatic recurrences of the slow introduction (La Malinconia) or references to it.

The first interruption occurs after the refrain has returned for the third time in the original tonic. At the last minute, an unexpected diminished chord is introduced into the flow of sixteenth notes and, suddenly, there is a fermata on a full-diminished seventh chord on E.

The diminished chord on E resolves to a B-flat chord in second inversion and we are immediately returned to the introduction in the original tempo. The passage is slightly varied and abbreviated this time, the series of tonally obscure diminished chords reduced to only three. And the tonality becomes clarified more quickly: the passage ends on a dominant seventh on E, which prepares for the return of the original Allegretto theme in A minor. But the return is very short-lived; after just three measures it ceases in mid-stream and, after a bar of silence, the opening bars of the introduction return at their original Adagio tempo but, seemingly, in the key of A minor. But this too is cut short. After just two bars, in which the introduction very quickly points the way toward G minor, the Allegretto theme comes back in that key. But its tonality quickly becomes fluid, and before long the original key of B-flat major is reasserted. The new key prevails for quite a while, but eventually yields to a transitional passage. The tempo is soon interrupted again, this time with a four-bar passage marked poco Adagio. But this time it is not the introduction that returns, but the opening bars of the first theme in a passage that is no doubt meant to come across as poignant. But Beethoven does not dwell on this sentiment; after a fermata, we launch into a Prestissimo passage in which the original Allegro theme zips by at blinding speed to a rapid conclusion.

How successful is this movement, with its multiple interruptions and drastic changes in momentum and style? Does Beethoven's subsequent handling of the opening Malinconia theme make it more or less likely that he thought of it as an expression of his own personal state of mind? Is Beethoven telling us that melancholy or depression can come quickly and unbidden, and that it can be dismissed just as quickly when circumstances change? Or is it all, in the end, just a musical device, one used to set up strong musical contrasts? On this matter, listeners will undoubtedly reach their own conclusion.

***

Do the String quartets of Op. 18 represent Beethoven's finest achievement among his early chamber works? It seems clear that they do, considering the remarkable success of the F major string quartet and the first three in general, along with some marvelous movements in the C minor, B-flat major and A major quartets. Does every individual movement among the set of six represent Beethoven at his greatest? Probably not. There are movements in the earlier chamber works, certainly among the piano trios, string trios, cello sonatas and even the early piano quartets that are a match for some of the movements from Op. 18. Even the earlier works with winds, traditionally relegated to the category of "entertainment music" and thereby accorded second-tier status, show examples of the sort of uniquely Beethovenian inspiration that marks them as works of the highest quality.

So it can be said with confidence that the genius of Beethoven can be found in any number of Beethoven's early chamber works. We may not encounter in all of these works the consistently high levels of craftsmanship and inspiration associated with the later Beethoven. We may not always be aware of the "searching" quality found in so many of the composer's later works. But, even in the early chamber music, we encounter the creative essence of Beethoven in all its glory, sometimes all the more captivating because the composer is in the process of creating himself, of experimenting with and defining the boundaries of his personal style, and of becoming one of the most captivating musical personalities in all of music history.

A note on sources

While there are relatively few books that focus on Beethoven's early chamber music in general, it's a very different matter when we come to the Op. 18 string quartets. A number of excellent books that discuss all of the quartets at some length are readily available. Perhaps the "classic" in this area is Joseph Kerman, The Beethoven Quartets (W. W. Norton and Company, 1979), but there are a number of others that make important contributions to the study of Beethoven's quartets, including: Robert Winter, ed. and Robert Martin, ed., The Beethoven Quartet Companion (University of California Press, 1995), which includes a number of excellent essays covering different analytical, historical and cultural topics relating to the quartets; Lewis Lockwood, Inside Beethoven's Quartets: History, Performance, Interpretation (Harvard University Press, 2008), written in collaboration with members of the Julliard String Quartet.; William Kinderman, ed., The String Quartets of Beethoven (University of Illinois Press, 2006), including one particularly useful essay on "transformational processes" in the Op. 18 quartets; Phillip Radcliffe, Beethoven's String Quartets (Cambridge University Press, 1978), the most succinct of any of the books dealing with all of Beethoven's quartets but also one of the most insightful; and Janet M. Levy, Beethoven's Compositional Choices: The Two Versions of Op. 18, No. 1, First Movement (Studies in the Criticism and Theory of Music, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1983), obviously the most specialized of this group but an invaluable study of the F major quartet.

Appendix

Other Early Chamber Works

There are a number of other early chamber works not previously discussed that fall into various categories. Some are briefer, occasional works or exercises; some remained unfinished; and some are arrangements, either by Beethoven himself or by others.

Among the more interesting of these that are composed primarily for strings (with or without piano) are two duets for cello and piano: Variations on "Ein Machen oder Weibschen,"(WoO 46) from Mozart's singspiel The Magic Flute, composed on Beethoven's trip to Berlin in 1796 , and Variations on "Bei Mannern welche Liebe Fuhlen"(Op. 66) from the same opera, composed in1801. The first is primarily a good-natured frolic appropriate to the comic nature of the aria from which the melody is taken, but the second, although mostly jovial, displays some surprisingly tender moments. Written at about the same time (1801-02) but considerably lighter in tone is Six Landlers for Two Violins, Cello and Double Bass (WoO 15) for which a piano version only was published. Also of interest is the Duet in E-flat major (WoO 32) for Viola and Cello from 1796-97.

In a special category is Beethoven's own arrangement of his Piano Sonata in E major, Op. 14, No. 1 for string quartet. Beethoven was not generally fond of such arrangements and appears to have undertaken this one as a demonstration of how it should be done. Also in a special category is a series of works for string quartet that were probably undertaken as "assignments" under Albrechtberger's tutelage in counterpoint, including Prelude and Fugue in E minor for Two Violins and Cello (Hess 29), Prelude and Fugue in F for String Quartet (Hess 30), and Prelude and Fugue in C major for String Quartet (Hess 31) among others. Although these are mere "exercises" and not all of them complete, they come off surprisingly well in performance and look ahead to some of Beethoven's fugal writing in the later quartets.

Also in a special category are a series of likeable little pieces for mandolin and piano composed in the mid-1790s for Wenzel Krumholz, a violinist in the Viennese opera orchestra but also an inveterate mandolin player. These works include Sonatinas (single movements) in C major (WoO 44, No. 1), C minor (WoO 45), an Andante con Variazioni in D major (WoO 44, No. 2), and a relatively lengthy Adagio in E-flat major (WoO 43, No. 2).

Among the other early works employing winds that deserve attention are the Rondino in E-flat major for Two Oboes, Two Clarinets, Two Bassoons and Two Horns (WoO 25), an attractive movement from 1795 probably intended as an alternative final for Beethoven's Octet (Op. 103) from the same year, and Variations in C major for Two Oboes and English Horn (WoO 28) from 1795, perhaps a companion piece to his Trio in C major for Two Oboes and English Horn in C major (Op. 87). The Variations are based on another aria from a popular Mozart opera, in this case "La ci darem la mano" from Don Giovanni.

A Quintet in E-flat major for Oboe, Three Horns, and Bassoon (Hess 19) from 1793 represents another special case. This exists only as a work reconstructed by Leopold Zellner in 1862 from incomplete fragments, but its use of three horns make it an intriguing prospect.

A number of other works for woodwinds once attributed to Beethoven are now considered spurious, e.g., his Three Duos for Clarinet and Bassoon (WoO 27).

###
