EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 9.
Mozart: Rondo from Piano Sonata in B-flat major.
This rondo is the last of the three movements of this characteristic sonata. Mozart's piano sonatas seldom have more than three movements, and of these the rondo is last, the plan being to present the more highly organized movements first, and to end, as in the suite, with a bright and cheerful piece. The rondos of this period were lively and rhythmically energetic. While not essentially dance-like, they nevertheless were ultimately derived from the dance, and lacked the meditative and sentimental qualities to be found in slow movements. It is from one of these two sources—the dance tune and the folk-song—that all these sonata movements sprang. Contributory streams entered here and there—the polyphonic influence is discernible; Italian opera lends its fluent vocal style and occasionally its love of display in elaborate cadenzas; and, of course, the idiom of the piano—the peculiar manner of writing that the instrument requires—is always present.
The first theme of this movement, for example, suggests motion; one can almost imagine the opening section (measures 1-16) as suited to the first evolution in a dance, and the second (beginning at measure 16) as the strain intended for a new set of dancers, while the chords in measure 17 quite vividly suggest the steps of a dance. The left hand part is largely in the familiar idiom of the piano of Mozart's time, though there is occasionally polyphonic treatment—as in measures 1-8. The various divisions of the piece are strongly marked by cadences, sometimes preceded by formal patterns of scales, or other meaningless passages, as at 144-147, such as Wagner likened to "the clatter of dishes at a royal banquet." Sequences, so familiar in the music of Bach, frequently appear here, and were, indeed, a part of the phraseology of the time. The passage between measures 189 and 193 is, in this respect, especially notable because of the harsh dissonance between E-flat and D at measure 191.
The cadenza is an interesting and unusual factor in this rondo. A cadenza always occurred in certain types of operatic arias, and in the concerto was introduced to display the skill of the performer, but it is unusual to find one in a rondo.
FIGURE XXVII.
STRUCTURAL PLAN OF MOZART'S RONDO IN B-FLAT MAJOR.
| Section | Measures | Notes |
| A | 1-24 | Chief theme in two sections (1-8 and 9-24), the last slightly extended. |
| B | 24-40 | First contrasting theme in dominant. Measures 36-40 constitute a codetta to this section. |
| A | 41-64 | Chief theme as before, but modulating (62) to the relative minor. |
| C | 64-111 | Second contrasting theme in two parts: 1st in G-minor (64-75), 2nd in E-flat major (76-90). This section is concluded by a passage in C-minor based on motive from chief theme, and by a codetta (105-111) similar to that in B. |
| A | 112-148 | Chief theme as before, but extended. |
| B | 148-172 | First contrasting theme now in tonic, and with an extended codetta. |
| A | 173-224 | Free treatment of chief theme, and other material: motive from codetta extensively used (179-196); cadenza (198); epilogue, or coda (213). |
This rondo flows on happily from beginning to end without touching either great heights or depths. It is a good example of a style of piano music intended more for the domestic circle than for the concert room. It shows that "absence of individualism in conformity to a general type of style and form" referred to by Dickinson, i. e., one does not feel in listening to it the obtrusion of a personal point of view; there are no idiosyncrasies such as are continually appearing in more modern music. There is here also that "purity of sound" that characterizes Mozart's music. There are no elisions, no subtleties of musical language, no suggested meanings such as one finds, for example, in Schumann. There is the same placidity, the same clearness of meaning, the same lucidity of diction that we find in the poetry of Mozart's day. Musical language was not then overlaid with secondary significance as it has since become.
An examination of Figure XXVII will reveal a considerable advance in this rondo over that of Couperin. The last section (A) in particular fulfills its office of providing, as it were, a kind of denouement to the whole piece; the interest is skillfully made to center or come to a climax here, and the stiff angularity that characterizes the older rondo is conspicuously absent. And while the scheme of harmonies in this rondo has many elements in common with that of "Les Moissonneurs," there are here excursions, by the way, into other keys giving variety and warmth of color. But, most important of all, the recurrence of the first contrasting theme (at measure 148) in the tonic key after having first appeared in the dominant (measure 24) gives to this piece a real strength, or stoutness of construction. It is as though there were certain strands in the fabric that run entirely through it and make it firm, whereas the Couperin rondo seems to be made by putting together a series of little blocks.
Another important point of contrast between these two rondos is in the matter of themes. Where Couperin has only one, which he presents in a variety of charming forms, but from which little that is new is evolved, Mozart has three distinct contrasting themes, and a little codetta motive; and all these germinate, even if but slightly, into new musical developments. The codetta passage, in particular, sprouts and blossoms (179-196) in a most delightful manner, the little germ having first appeared (36) as an unpromising and monotonous succession of single notes.
We referred at some length, in the chapter on "The Dance and Its Development," to this germination of musical thought as of the greatest importance in composition. The reader will readily understand that the highest form of an art like music, in which the element of time enters as a vital matter—in which the message of the composer comes to us in successive sounds—must depend on something more than the beauty of its several and successive melodies. In the first place, the limit of such a succession would soon be reached; the mind, after having taken in a certain number of melodies, would lose track of the first ones and be left in utter confusion. The obvious device of repeating the first phrase or melody at the point where, otherwise, this confusion would result, has been the determining motive of many of the simple forms we have thus far studied. But this, after all, is a primitive method, and it is obvious that its possibilities are limited. The rondo is, in effect, the furthest point to which this plan can go.
The fundamental quality in anything living—be it the state, the church, the family or the human body—is organism, the relation of all the parts to the whole. So in the greatest music as in the greatest literature, everything germinates from certain fundamental ideas, and nothing is extraneous. This rondo of Mozart represents a certain tendency of his to string beautiful melodies together—for his fund of melodies was well nigh inexhaustible. But he was too great a master not to see the weakness of such a procedure, and in works like his G-minor symphony he has left nearly perfect examples of this higher form of musical development;—perfect, that is, within his own horizon—a wider view was to unfold itself from that height to which Beethoven finally struggled.
SUGGESTIONS FOR COLLATERAL READING.
Parry: "The Evolution of the Art of Music," pp. 52 and 241. Dickinson: "The Study of the History of Music," Chapter XIV. Goetschius: "The Homophonic Forms of Musical Composition," p. 203. Mason: "Beethoven and His Forerunners," Chapter IV. Hadow: "Sonata Form," Chapter IX.
LIST OF SUPPLEMENTARY PIECES FOR STUDY.
Haydn: Finale of Sonata in D-major, No. 7 (Schirmer Ed.). Finale of Sonata in D-major, No. 9 (Schirmer Ed.). Mozart: Finale of Sonata in F-major, No. 17 (Schirmer Ed.).
FOOTNOTES:
[14] Sonata, originally from Italian "Suonare," to sound, as Cantata was from Italian "Cantare," to sing. Later the word Sonata took on a more precise meaning, which we shall study in later chapters.
[15] The name "Rondo" (Fr. "Rondeau") is derived from "round," and its application to pieces of the type we are considering was due to the constant recurrence of one principal melody.
[16] The first partial measure and all the other half measures where the double bars occur are counted separately, making 65 measures in the whole piece.
[17] The fixed part (A) in the Rondo of this period usually entered but three times instead of four as is the case here. Couperin's "La Bandoline" (in "Les Maitres du Clavecin") is another example of the extended form of the Rondo.
[18] Pauer's "Alte Meister" (Breitkopf and H?tel) contains several interesting Rondeaus by Couperin and Rameau. "Les Maitres du Clavecin," edited by Kohler (Litolff), Vols. X and XI, may also be consulted.
[19] The numbers referred to here are those of the Schirmer edition.
CHAPTER VII.
THE VARIATION FORM—THE MINUET.
The process of musical development we have been considering in previous chapters has tended gradually but surely towards freedom of expression and, at the same time, definiteness of form. As this process has advanced, melodies have become less and less constrained, yet the forms themselves have crystallized into certain accepted types. The ideal of all this progress was unity and variety; in other words, composers felt the desire to expand their powers of expression and saw that this expansion must in the nature of things conform to certain ?thetic principles and obey certain laws. Mere luxuriance of speech without order or system means confusion; but order and system without living feeling means aridity. These two elements must go hand in hand, and in the music of masters like Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms they do.
The so-called variation form admirably illustrates these tendencies. From its very beginning down to the present day there has been a constant re-adjustment of its expressiveness and its formal interest; a constant attempt to strike the right balance between the two qualities. The form is almost as old as music itself. From the earliest times composers have felt the necessity of varying their tunes by one device or another. Even before the other primitive forms had crystallized, crude variations existed, and we find old hymn tunes or popular songs repeated over and over again with elaborate changes of phraseology or with contrapuntal devices. Certain arid processes—such as writing a tune backwards—were sometimes employed, and a study of the whole range of the variation form in its early stages reveals a constant fluctuation.