The two books of Pianoforte Pieces, which, with the two Motets, Op. 74, dedicated to Philipp Spitta, the Violin Concerto, and the three Pianoforte Studies after Bach without opus number, formed the publications of the year 1879, contain, in all, eight numbers. Some of them, written with simplicity of style and pervaded by a spirit of dreamy content or graceful happiness, have become familiar to music-lovers; others present difficulties both to listener and performer which have hindered their popularity. Several contain interesting examples of the composer's facility in the art of rhythmic and contrapuntal device.
The Sonata for pianoforte and violin in G major, performed from the manuscript by Brahms and Hellmesberger at the Quartet concert of November 20, is a pearl of pure and delicate imagination. The vivacity of the first movement is painted in pale moonbeam tints, and must, as one fancies, vanish before the first warm ray of sunshine. There is more substantiality about the gentle melancholy of the adagio, though this movement, again, is haunted by a strain of mystery. The last movement, written in rondo form, has for its first subject that of the beautiful 'Rain-Song' already alluded to, and is a very dream of wistful charm. Brahms' very original treatment of the pianoforte arpeggio, which is one of the distinctive features of his style of writing for the instrument, is well illustrated in the first movement of this work, in which the arpeggio is raised from the mere position of a brilliant passage to that of an essential part of the entire conception. A particularly clear light is thrown also upon the composer's relation to Bach by the study of the sonata, the methods of which are inherited from those of the early giant-musician, as exemplified in his sonatas for clavier and violin; and whilst Bach's methods flow as easily within the forms of the Austrian masters as though they had always been an inseparable part of them, the association is animated by the distinctive individuality of our Brahms. Not, however, as it impressed itself upon us in his first great series of works for pianoforte and strings. The spirit of the Sonata in G is essentially that of the master's later period of maturity. In it we feel that he has not only his powers, but his emotions, well in hand, and has reached a period of life when he can afford to look back calmly to the conflicts of the past. This no mere fancy; we find as we proceed in the study of Brahms' art, not that the nature of the man changed as he grew older, but that, whilst the sunshine of complete recognition which brightened his later path through life is felt in the clear spirit of some of his works, the reserve which characterizes others is now dictated by the complete self-mastery which it had been one of the efforts of his life to attain, and which lends them a singular and pathetic charm as of consciously half-revealed power and beauty.
The Sonata in G major is the fourth composed by Brahms for pianoforte and violin. The first, belonging to his first period, had, as we know, been mysteriously lost on the eve of publication. The second and third were rejected after completion by the composer's relentless self-criticism, and the manuscripts destroyed by his own hand. The publication of this one, known as the first, took place quite at the beginning of the year 1880, and the work was played with immense success by Brahms and Joachim during a short concert-tour they made together in the Austrian provinces during the last week of January and the first of February. In the course of his visit Joachim performed the Violin Concerto at one of three orchestral concerts given by him in the large hall of the Vienna 'Gesellschaft,' with the result to be expected from the association of two names so dear to the Austrian public.
The sonata was performed for the first time in England at the Monday Popular concert of February 2 by von Bülow and Madame Norman-Néruda, and at the Wednesday Popular concert, Cambridge, on the 25th of the same month by C. Villiers Stanford and Richard Gompertz. One of the earliest performances in Germany was that by Scholz and Himmelstoss at Breslau on February 24.
Brahms' first appearance at Crefeld on January 20 must be particularly recorded for two reasons: in the first place because it introduces us to a group of friends, his pleasant associations with whom are commemorated in the dedication of one of his later works. A considerable amount of music was performed during this first visit, and more on subsequent ones, in the informal, sociable way Brahms liked, at the houses of Herr and Frau Rudolph von der Leyen, with whom he always stayed, and of their relatives, Herr and Frau Alwyn von Beckerath. Herr von Beckerath, a good amateur performer, played viola in the resident string quartet led by Professor Richard Barth, a former pupil of Joachim, an old acquaintance of Brahms, and well known later on as von Bernuth's successor at Hamburg, who was always present with his colleagues at these private gatherings; and the enjoyment of the circle was enhanced during Brahms' later visits to Crefeld by the singing, to the master's accompaniment, of Fräulein Antonia Kufferath. This lady (now Mrs. Edward Speyer) has interesting recollections connected with the Crefeld visits. Amongst them is that of Brahms, who when once a composition was published allowed it to pass from his mind, sometimes almost completely, coming unawares upon a difficult passage in the accompaniment of one of his songs, and having an instant's struggle with it. At the end he turned to Fräulein Kufferath, saying, 'That is really difficult to read at sight!'
The musical event which gives particular distinction to the Crefeld concert of 1880, the programme of which included Brahms' second Symphony, 'Harzreise' Rhapsody and Triumphlied, was the performance by the composer of two new solos for the pianoforte, the Rhapsodies in B minor and G minor, generally accepted as the finest of Brahms' shorter works for the instrument. The second one especially, marked 'molto passionato ma non troppo allegro,' is an inspiration from beginning to end, and though not long, its length is sufficient to balance its grandeur of idea and to give the effect of completeness to its performance. Billroth, to whom Brahms, always needing sympathy, confided the manuscripts on their completion in the early summer of 1879, returned them with the words:
'The second piece has quite fascinated me. In both pieces there is more of the young, heaven-storming Johannes than in the other late works of the mature man.'
The Sonata in G, Op. 78, the Rhapsodies, Op. 79, and the third and fourth books of Hungarian Dances for Pianoforte Duet, without opus number, were the publications of 1880.
It may have been noticed by the reader that, in our record of the early performances of Brahms' works during the closing seventies, no mention has been made of Munich. The reason is not far to seek, and is such as might almost have been anticipated. The time arrived when the paths of Brahms and Levi separated, and its occurrence may be definitely dated in November, 1876, when our master visited Munich to conduct his first symphony, and stood there for the last time on a concert platform.
The attraction felt by Levi towards Wagner's art and personality had grown continually stronger since his preparation of the 'Meistersinger' for performance at Carlsruhe in 1869 and the establishment of personal relations between himself and Wagner to which it led; and his enthusiasm for the man and his works received extraordinary stimulus from the first performances of the 'Nibelungen Ring,' at which he was present, in the temporary theatre at Bayreuth in August, 1876. The impulsive expression to Brahms of his boundless admiration, carried beyond the point which should have been prescribed by tact, seems to have convinced our master that future relations between himself and Levi would be embarrassing to both; and though he received his friend's outpourings without visible sign, he took the wise and friendly course of abstaining from further visits to Munich. Enough, it is hoped, has been related in these pages of Brahms' appreciation of Wagner's powers to exclude the suspicion that he was actuated by petty feeling in taking this line. Levi's want of self-restraint was in one sense an acknowledgment of the master's artistic generosity; but compliments of this kind should not be carried to extremes, and Brahms' courage in adhering to a course certain to expose him to misunderstanding saved Levi as well as himself from the danger of the false position which must inevitably have threatened their future intercourse. The wreath which Brahms sent to Bayreuth on Wagner's death in February, 1883, was not the sign of a mere decorous compliance with custom, but was a heart-felt tribute of recognition from the one great master to the other.