The Masters and Their Music / A series of illustrative programs with biographical, / esthetical, and critical annotations

by W. S. B. Mathews

CHAPTER IX.

BACH, BEETHOVEN, SCHUMANN, AND CHOPIN.

There are endless selections of compositions which might be made in order to bring together into a single chapter enough of the music of these four great masters to give a taste of their individualities, style, and sentiment. Following are examples:

PROGRAM I.
Bach, Prelude and Fugue in C minor, Clavier, No. 2.
Beethoven, Sonate Pathetique, opus 13.
Schumann, Forest Scenes; "Entrance."
"Wayside Inn."
"Prophetic Bird."
"Homeward."
Bach, Fantasia in C minor. Loure in G (Heinze).
Chopin, Nocturne in G minor, opus 37, No. 1.
Waltz in A-flat, opus 42.
PROGRAM II.
Bach, Prelude and Fugue in D major, Clavier, No. 5.
Beethoven, Sonata in D, opus 10, No. 3.
Schumann, Fantasy Pieces, opus 12: "At Evening."
"Excelsior."
"Why?"
"Whims."
"Dream Visions."
"End of the Song."
Chopin, Nocturne in B major, opus 32, No. 1.
Ballad in A-flat, opus 47.
PROGRAM III.
Bach, Prelude and Fugue in C-sharp, Clavier, No. 3.
Beethoven, Sonata in A-flat, opus 26.
Schumann, Fantasy Pieces, Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8.
Chopin, Nocturne in B major, opus 32, No. 1.
Ballad in A-flat, opus 47.
PROGRAM IV. (Regardless of difficulty.)
Bach, Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue.
Beethoven, Sonata, opus III. C minor.
Schumann, Études Symphoniques, opus 13.
Chopin, Nocturne in D-flat major, opus 27, No. 2.
Polonaise in A-flat, opus 53.

To discuss these selections in detail would take us too far, for which reason only those observations will be made which seem more essential. Throughout, the intention is to alternate the thematic work of Bach and Schumann with the lyric or quasi-lyric writing of Beethoven and Chopin. While Beethoven was also at times thematic, his work is generally well balanced as to its structure, and so melodious in comparison with almost anything of Schumann (excepting a few distinctly lyric pieces) or of Bach, that it seems like lyric melody. It was also the intention in these programs to preserve an agreeable succession of keys. The first three programs are of moderate difficulty, although not so easy as might be made. Still, in the present state of piano playing there are few seminaries or private circles where these numbers can not be played well enough to afford pleasure and instruction.

Of the various Bach numbers upon the programs the following distinctions may be made: The preludes and fugues are generally contrasted in respect of the qualities of lyric and thematic writing respectively. The prelude in C minor, for instance, is almost an exercise, being without clearly expressed melody (although the accents in the soprano distinctly suggest a melody), and the whole is rapid and incisive. The fugue, on the other hand, opens with a very sprightly idea, which is carried out delightfully, quite in the manner of a scherzo. The prelude in D major, again, is very light and graceful, yet having a character somewhat between a fancy piece of tone-poetry and an exercise, being capable of receiving either construction, according to the ability and skill of the player. The fugue, on the contrary, is rather firm, resolute, and marked, yet with distinct touches of sentiment—which latter quality is always to be sought for in the playing, but without resorting to rubato. It is not enough to present these selections, they must be made to display the best effect of which they are capable. It is not a question of composers merely, but why we should love and reverence them. The prelude in C-sharp is one of the loveliest in the entire "Clavier." It is lyric in its principal motive, and there is a very pretty interlude of alternating work between the two hands upon the dominant, just before the return of the principal theme, which is quite in modern style. The fugue also is very melodious, yet at the same time rather difficult, and it will be a good player who is able to produce this fugue successfully in anything short of about a month's practice. With the last program we come upon a very different grade of difficulty, especially in the matter of interpretation, for in mere finger work the last Bach piece is not so much more difficult than the fugue in C-sharp major.

The "Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue" is a very curious illustration of Bach's genius. No one knows the circumstances under which it was written nor the time. There is absolutely nothing else in his works which is at all like it, taken as a whole, although each one of its peculiarities may perhaps be found elsewhere in his works. It opens with a bravura run in scale work,—the two hands co-operating interchangeably,—which must have the character of a bold flourish, such as a virtuoso might give upon taking his place and beginning his piece. This is followed with a delicate harmonic passage in which a melody is very distinctly suggested; a very delicate and musical passage it is. Then the bravura run returns, and then the harmonic arpeggio motive as before, but always carried out in different keys and chords. Upon these two elements the first part of the fantasia is constructed.

In the forty-ninth measure begins another chapter, in which we have a series of recitative-like phrases, the most of which end upon diminished chords and contain or suggest enharmonic modulations of extreme modern type. The recitatives are very expressive, and their proper delivery necessitates a high degree of musical sensitiveness and experience in singing. After the recitatives, at measure 76, a coda begins, which brings the fantasia to an end. The coda is perhaps the most beautiful part of this great work. I have here also forgotten to mention the series of arpeggios upon chromatic chords, beginning in measure 27. These Bach wrote merely as chords to be played arpeggio, and it was for a long time a question as to what manner of filling up the time would be nearest his intention. Mendelssohn, in one of his letters, says he wishes that he knew what Bach meant here, and I believe it is generally thought that the carrying out of the arpeggios in Hans von Bülow's edition of this piece is very near the solution suggested by Mendelssohn. At any rate, I advise using the Bülow edition, particularly as the figures are written out in full and the fingering is carefully marked—a very important consideration in one or two places in the fugue.

The fugue also is interesting, and is elaborated to two quite imposing climaxes, the first beginning in measure 60 and the other in measure 140, where the bass has the principal theme in octaves. Mr. Liebling does not regard this fugue as quite up to Bach's standard, inasmuch as Bach has repeated quite long passages in different keys without materially changing the treatment, something which he rarely does, his fertility of fancy being such that he always or nearly always avoids exactly repeating himself, no matter how many times he chooses to bring back the principal theme. The composition as a whole is by far the most modern of Bach, and it is a veritable tone-poem. In order to realize this it will be necessary to hear it several times, its elaboration being so great and the difficulty of playing so considerable that only very good players will have enough sentiment and surplus of technic to interpret it with sufficiently musical quality. But when so played it is one of the surest masterpieces in the entire repertory of the piano-forte. And in consequence of its elevated and poetic sentiment, its caprice and program-like character, it affords one of the best possible studies in Bach's style at its best.

The sonatas by Beethoven named upon the programs are of quite dissimilar value. The "Sonate Pathetique" is a very strong work indeed, and, if we have many times seen its name, we must not forget that after all it is not very often played in any one place. Moreover, new players are all the time coming on to whom this strong and original work is new. The introduction carries out the emotional spirit of the Bach fantasia, as also does the work itself. The headlong allegro, the slow, sustained, and beautiful adagio, and the easy-going finale all have their own beauties, and continue the story, which, as Beethoven thought it, was one story from beginning to end. The least satisfactory part of this work is the rondo, the tempo of which is not altogether easy to determine; I prefer it at rather a slow tempo. There is a unity of movement in this work which is not always observed. In a general way the eighth note in the introduction, the whole note in the allegro, and the eighth note in the adagio, and the half note in the rondo go at about the same rate—approximately, from sixty to seventy-two by the metronome. If any modification is made, take the rondo faster, say about eighty-four.

A very important technical point of the work is the treatment of the chords in the introduction and in the allegro. All must have a melodic quality in their highest tones, since the melody passes through the chord. Neglect of this imparts a brutal and unmusical quality to the tones of chords struck so forcibly. Throughout the work strong contrasts continually occur between the impassioned motive and the pathetic or appealing idea. These two elements struggle for mastery. The adagio is one of those slow movements for which Beethoven was noted; the cantilena is lovely and the sentiment deep and tender.

In some respects the sonata upon the second program is even more remarkable. Its general build is rather light and pleasing, and neither in length nor in dramatic contrast is it to be compared with most of the "Pathetique." Especially is this the case when we confine our attention to the light and pleasing first movement and the finale. The latter, opening with that capricious little motive which seems to say "Why don't you?" is all the way arch, sprightly, and pleasing. But the second movement is one of the strongest and most impassioned in all the sonatas. It opens grave, serious, as if fate herself impended. A very slow and appealing motive is carried out thematically, almost in the modern style of Schumann or Brahms. It is a slow movement which might have been played upon Olympus or in Walhalla—provided the dissipated gods of the old dispensations had been developed to the capacity of remorse and repentance. Out of this profoundly sad, despondent, slow movement grows the tender flower of the delicious menuetto in D major which follows it. This is not to be taken too fast, remembering that we have our fast movement still to settle with later. It is a melodious, tender, gentle movement, which is one of the most characteristic and beautiful of the kind to be found anywhere in the entire list of the sonatas. In point of technical difficulty this sonata presents no very great problems.

The Sonata in A-flat, commonly remembered from the "Funeral March," which takes the place of a slow movement, opens with an air and variations. These were for a long time the most played of anything in the entire collection of sonatas. Lately, under the influence of the greater variations of Schumann and Brahms, they are becoming relegated to the more remote seats in the musical synagogue. They are, nevertheless, very interesting variations, quite in the "character" line, each variation being a new picture, a new mood. Opposed to this kind of variations is the "formal" variation, where, although the theme is varied in its figuration and rhythm, the harmony remains unchanged, and the esthetic character of the successive variations remains practically unchanged. The "Funeral March Upon the Death of a Hero" is one of the famous pieces. It no longer presents material difficulties to the student. The scherzo must not be played too rapidly; the finale is to go about as fast as possible, and with the greatest possible lightness and delicacy.

The great Sonata in C minor, opus 111, is the last which Beethoven composed, having been written after the Ninth Symphony, about a year or two before his death. It is very difficult, technically; very serious in its spirit, and has the curious peculiarity of consisting of two movements only, excepting a short but very profound and serious introduction. The first movement is very impassioned, and the entire movement is developed from one or two short germs, thematically, quite in the manner which Schumann took up and accomplished so much with. The spirit of the allegro is almost like that of the "Sonate Pathetique," but naturally much more mature. The slow movement, again, consists of an arietta of two eight-measure strains—the first in C major, the second in A minor. These two strains alternate throughout the variations, which are of the formal order; but here Beethoven manages to attain a very considerable development of interest, and rises to an imposing climax without ever quite forsaking the peace of the opening measures of the arietta. The variations are quite difficult to play, and the ending is very troublesome to treat in any manner to make it sound as one thinks an ending should. The whole, while perhaps but little more characteristic of Beethoven than the "Sonata Appassionata" or the great sonata for "Hammerklavier," opus 106, is nevertheless a very beautiful illustration of Beethoven's tone-poetry for pianoforte.

The Schumann "Études Symphoniques," here chosen for illustrating this capricious and humoristic master, is also a most astonishing work. It is in the form of a theme and variations, but the variations almost require the newspaper libel-saving reservation "alleged," since the theme in some of them is not referred to at all, while in others it occurs but for occasional measures here and there. Except for the monotony of key, this piece might as well have been called "studies" as variations. Nevertheless it is a most delightful example of Schumann's imagination and of tone-poetry for pianoforte. Each variation or successive movement is a new leaf from the world of the ideal. Nothing more contrasted, no more agreeable succession of moods, no more imposing example of poetic treatment of the pianoforte is to be found in the entire literature of the instrument. It is a work which the more one hears the more one likes it. It is curious, now that this work is so often played, to remember that Schumann wrote concerning it to a friend that he had just been writing a set of variations which interested him very much, but he doubted whether they would ever be played in public. Naturally, he said, it is unfit for such a position; it is for the musician in his closet. Yet of all the Schumann piano works this one probably is oftenest played, the immortal fantasia in C not excepted.

The other pieces here omitted from comment have perhaps already received sufficient attention in the earlier programs where they first appeared.

It will be quite possible for the player to substitute still other numbers in place of some of those here, or to rearrange the matter here presented, for the sake of using pieces which one can play well. In arranging the programs, however, it is desirable to preserve an agreeable succession of keys, a due contrast of moods, and a fitting illustration of the masters concerned.