II
The year after the publication of these first quartets appeared the quintet for strings, in C major, opus 29. This is the only original string quintet of Beethoven’s, except the fugue written for a similar group of instruments in 1817, probably as a study. The quintet, opus 4, is a rearrangement of the octet for wind instruments, written in 1792, before coming to Vienna. The quintet, opus 104, is an arrangement of the trio in C minor, opus 1, which Beethoven made in 1817, following an anonymous request, and which he regarded humorously.
In 1808 were printed the three great quartets opus 59, dedicated to Count (later Prince) Rasumowsky. Beethoven’s earlier patron, Prince Lichnowsky, had left Vienna, and the famous quartet under the leadership of Schuppanzigh, which had played such a part in his Friday morning musicales, was now engaged by Rasumowsky, Russian Ambassador to the court at Vienna. Rasumowsky commissioned Beethoven to write three quartets in which there was to be some use of Russian melodies.
Between the quartets, opus 18, and these so-called Russian quartets, Beethoven had written, among other things, a number of his great pianoforte sonatas, including opus 27, opus 31, opus 53, and most of opus 57, the Kreutzer sonata for violin and piano, the second and third symphonies, and Fidelio. These are the great works of the second period of his creative activity; and the qualities which are essential in them are, as it were, condensed, refined and assembled in the three quartets, opus 59. They may be taken as the abstract of his genius at that time.
Nothing gives more striking evidence of the phenomenal power of self-development within Beethoven than a comparison of opus 18 with opus 59, or, again, of the latter with the five last quartets. Of course, to compare the early with the late sonatas, or the first two symphonies with the ninth, will astonish in a like measure. But there are intermediate sonatas and symphonies by which many steps between the extremes can be clearly traced. The quartets stand like isolated tablets of stone upon which, at three distinct epochs in his life, Beethoven engraved the sum total of his musicianship. The quartets opus 74 and opus 95 hardly serve to unite the Russian quartets with opus 127.
The Russian quartets are regular in structure, but they are as broad as symphonies by comparison with opus 18. The style is bold, though the details are carefully finished, and the instruments are treated polyphonically, each being as prominent and as important as the others. This in particular marks an advance over the earlier works in the same form. There is in them, moreover, an emotional vigor, which, expressed in broad sweeps and striking, often strident, harmonies, worked in the opinion of many contemporaries a barbarous distortion of the hitherto essentially delicate form. To interpret them is but to repeat what has been already made familiar by the sonatas of the period, by the Eroica, and by Fidelio. It is the same Beethoven who speaks here with no less vigor, though with necessarily finer point.
The first quartet begins at once with a melody for violoncello, unusually long and broad even for Beethoven. It has in itself no Russian quality; but the monotonous accompaniment of chords, repeated with but the harmonic change from tonic to dominant for eighteen measures, suggests a primitive sort of art, a strumming such as may well be practised by Russian peasants in their singing. The harsh dissonances created by the long F’s in the melody, and a little later by the whole-note D, against dominant seventh harmony will not pass unnoticed. Such clashes between melody and harmony can be found in other works of about the same period; for example, at the return of the first theme in the third section of the first movement of the Eroica; and the much-discussed, prolonged D-flat of the oboe against the entrance of the A-flat melody in the second movement of the fifth symphony. Elsewhere in this quartet the same procedure makes a striking effect; namely, in the approach to the second theme, where, however, the long G’s—sharply accented—are in the nature of a pedal point. The second theme—in C major—is cognate with the first. The interweaving of the instruments in its statement is noteworthy. The first phrase is anticipated by the first violin, and then sung out broadly by the viola; from which the first violin immediately takes away the second phrase. The second violin and 'cello, and even the viola, after its first phrase, interchange with each other the broad C’s which lie at the foundation of the whole. The line of the melody itself and the suave flow of polyphony will suggest certain passages in Richard Wagner’s Die Meistersinger.
The second movement (allegretto vivace e sempre scherzando, B-flat major, 3:8) has in rhythm at least a strong Russian flavor. Here again there are repeated chords in the accompaniment even more barbaric in effect than those in the first movement. The 'cello alone gives in the opening measures the rhythmical key to the whole; and in the next measures the solo violin (2d) announces, staccato and pianissimo, the chief melodic motive. The effect of the whole movement is at once fantastical and witty. The following Adagio in F minor, in essence and in adornment one of the full expressions of a side of Beethoven’s genius, dies away in a long cadenza for the first violin which, without ending, merges into a long trill. Softly under this trill the 'cello announces the Russian melody upon which the following wholly good-humored and almost boisterous finale is built.
The second quartet of the series is less forceful, and far more sensitive and complicated. The key is E minor. Two incisive, staccato chords, tonic and dominant, open the movement. One remembers the opening of the Eroica. There follows a full measure of silence and then the melodic kernel of the first movement, pianissimo in unison—a rising figure upon the tonic triad (which will again recall for an instant the Eroica) and a hushed falling back upon the dominant seventh. Again the full measure of silence, and again the rising and falling, questioning, motive, this time in F major. After an agitated transitional passage, the first violin gives out the second theme, a singing melody in G major. But the threefold first theme—the incisive chords, the measure of silence, and the questioning figure—carry the burden of the work, one of mystery to which the second theme is evidently stranger. At the beginning of the middle section, and again at the beginning of the long coda, the chords and the breathless silences assume a threatening character, now hushed, then suddenly angry, to which the figure reluctantly responds with its unanswered question.
The second movement (Adagio, E major) must, in Beethoven’s own words, be played with much feeling. The chief melody is like a chorale. It is played first by the first violin, the other instruments adding a note-for-note, polyphonic accompaniment. It is then repeated by second violin and viola, in unison, while the first violin adds above it a serious, gently melodious counterpoint. Other more vigorous episodes appear later, but the spirit of the movement is swayed by the sad and prayerful opening theme.
In the trio of the following scherzo another Russian theme is used as the subject of a fugue. The last movement is unrestrainedly joyful and vigorous, beginning oddly in C major, but turning presently to the tonic key (E minor), from which the rondo unfolds in more and more brilliant power.
The last of this series of quartets—in C major—is for the most part wholly outspoken. There is little obscurity in meaning, none in form. At the basis of the slow introduction lies a series of falling half-tones, given to the 'cello. The first allegro is almost martial in character. The second movement—andante con moto quasi allegretto, in A minor—is in the nature of a Romanza; and the frequent pizzicato of the 'cello suggests the lutenist of days long gone by. There follows a Minuet instead of a Scherzo; and at the end there is a vigorous fugue.
Between these three quartets and the final series beginning with opus 127, stand two isolated quartets: opus 74, in E-flat major, and opus 95, in F minor. Neither indicates a considerable change in Beethoven’s method, or in his attitude towards his art. The former, composed in 1809 and dedicated to Prince Lobkowitz, is in the spirit of the last of the Rasumowsky quartets; that is, outspoken, vigorous, and clear. The relatively long, slow introduction alone hints at a tragic seriousness; but it serves rather to show from what the composer had freed himself, than to expose the riddle of the piece. The first theme of the first movement is stalwart and well-built; the second, of rather conventional character, chiefly made up of whirring scale groups. In the development section there are many measures of arpeggio figures, at first pizzicato, later growing into arco; by reason of which the quartet has been given the name of Harfenquartett (Harp-quartet). In connection with this passage Dr. Riemann has remarked that all such experiments in sound effects [such as pizzicato, harmonics and playing on special strings] serve only to reveal the actual lack of different tone-colors in the quartet; and, indeed, distract the attention from the ‘drawing’ [i.e., the pure lines of the various parts] which is peculiarly the affair of the quartet.
The second movement is an adagio in rondo form; the third a scherzo, with an astonishing trio in 6/8 time; and the last consists of a theme, oddly syncopated so that the groundwork of the harmonic progressions may be traced only on the unaccented beats of the measures, together with five variations.
The quartet in F minor, opus 95, was completed in October, 1810. In the autograph copy Beethoven gave the work the title Quartett serioso, omitted in the engraved editions. Theresa Malfatti is supposed to have refused Beethoven’s offer of marriage in April of this year. He confided himself rather freely in his friend Zmeskall von Domanowecz, during these months. The fact that the quartet, opus 95, was held to be serioso by Beethoven, and furthermore that he dedicated it to Zmeskall, are at least some sort of evidence that the work sprang from his recent disappointment in love. However, the first movement is rather spiteful than mournful. It is remarkable for conciseness. It is, indeed, only one hundred and fifty measures long, and there are no repetitions. The dominant motive is announced at once by all four instruments in unison, and is repeated again and again throughout the movement, like an irritating thought that will not be banished. There is a second theme, in D-flat major, which undergoes little development.
The second movement, an allegretto in D major, 2/4, is highly developed and unusual. It opens with a four-measure phrase of detached, descending notes, for 'cello alone, which may be taken as a motto for the movement. This is followed by a strange yet lovely melody for first violin which is extended by a long-delayed cadence. After this the viola announces a new theme, suggestive of the opening motive, which is taken up by the other instruments one after the other and woven into a complete little fugue, with a stretto. Once again, then, the 'cello gives out the lovely, and somewhat mysterious, opening phrase, this time thrice repeated on descending steps of the scale, and punctuated by mournful harmonies of the other instruments. The viola announces the fugue theme again, in F minor; and the fugue is resumed with elaborate counterpoint. And at the end of this, again the 'cello motive, once more in the tonic key, and the strange melody sung early by the first violin.
The movement is not completed, but goes without pause into the next, a strangely built scherzo, allegro assai vivace, ma serioso. The vivace evidently applies to the main body of the movement, which is in a constantly active, dotted rhythm. The serioso is explained by the part of the movement in G-flat major, which one may regard as the trio. This is merely a chorale melody, first given by the second violin. The lower instruments follow the melody with note-for-note harmonies; the first violin adds to each note of the melody an unvarying formula of ornamentation. All this is done first in the key of G-flat major, then in D major. The opening section is then repeated, and after it comes the chorale melody, a little differently scored; and a coda, piu allegro, brings the movement to an end.
The last movement is preceded by a few introductory measures, which are in character very like the Lebewohl motive in the sonata, opus 81. And the progression from the introduction into the allegro agitato is not unlike the beginning of the last movement of the same sonata. The allegro itself is most obviously in hunting-song style, suggesting in the first melody Mendelssohn, in parts of the accompaniment the horns at the beginning of the second act of Tristan und Isolda. The second theme is a horn-call. Just before the end the galloping huntsmen pass far off into the distance, their horns sound fainter and fainter, finally cease. Then there is a mad coda, in alla breve time.