To hear this music (MIDI), click [here].
To view the Lilypond source file, click [here].
The bar before the return of the principal theme in the Allegro of the sonata in E flat (Op. 75) furnishes another instance. Again, in the Allegro of the sonata in A flat, known as "Le Retour à Paris," there is a passage (commencing fifteen bars before the end of the exposition section) which, with slight alteration, might have been materially improved.
Of the early sonatas, Op. 10, No. 2, in G minor, is an interesting work. It consists of two well-contrasted movements: an Adagio in binary, and a Vivace in sonata form. Of the Presto of Op. 10, No. 3, Professor Prout, in his interesting article, Dussek's Pianoforte Sonatas,[87] says: "Both the first and second principal subjects remind us irresistibly of that composer (Mendelssohn), while the phrase at the conclusion of the first part, repeated at the end of the movement, is almost identical with a well-known passage in the first movement of the 'Scotch Symphony.' Is the coincidence accidental, or did Mendelssohn know the sonata, and was he unconsciously influenced by it?"
In his three last sonatas (Op. 70, 75, and 77), Dussek rises to a very high level; he was undoubtedly influenced by the earnestness of Beethoven, the chivalric spirit of Weber, and the poetry of Schubert. A new era had set in. These three composers were neither the fools of princes nor the servants of the public: they were in the world, yet not of it. They looked upon their art as a sacred thing; and most probably the shallowness of much of the music produced in such abundance towards the close of the eighteenth century spurred them on to higher efforts. Dussek had lived an irregular, aimless sort of life; he had wandered from one country to another, and had acquired the ephemeral fame of the virtuoso. Perhaps he was a disappointed man; there is a tinge of sadness about these last sonatas which supports such a view. Perhaps a feeling that his life was ebbing away made him serious: his music now shows no trifling. Explain it as you may, Dussek's three last contributions to sonata literature rank amongst the best of his day; and the indifference now shown to them—so far, at least, as the concert platform is concerned—is proof of ignorance, or bad taste. We say ignorance, because the rising generation has few, if any, opportunities of hearing this composer's music. It is eighteen years since his Op. 70 was given at the Popular Concerts; while twenty-three and twenty-nine years have passed since Op. 75 and Op. 77 have been played there.
The sonata in A flat, entitled "Le Retour à Paris," is known in England as "Plus Ultra," and in an old edition it is dedicated to "Non plus Ultra." The latter was meant for Woelfl, a famous pianist and contemporary. His music is now forgotten, and his name is principally remembered in connection with Beethoven; like the latter, his talent for improvisation was great. The late J.W. Davidson, in his long and interesting preface to Brewer & Co.'s edition of Dussek's A flat sonata, leads us to believe that Dussek's publisher, and not the composer himself, was responsible for the change of title to "Plus Ultra." The opus number, too, was changed from 70 to 71. The following story is also told by Davidson in a preface contributed by him to the Brewer edition of the Woelfl sonata:—"Who will play it?" asked the publisher (Well), looking through the music of the composer. "I vill it blay," replied Woelfl. "Yes, but you won't buy the copies. No one but yourself or Dussek can play the Allegro, and I doubt if either of you can play the variations." Woelfl, however, sitting down before an old harpsichord, convinced the publisher of his error. "What shall we call it?" asked Well. "Call it 'Ne plus Ultra,'" said Woelfl, rubbing his hands with joy, and adding, "Now shall we see if Herr von Esch vill more blay, or Herr Bomdembo make de variation."
Dussek's "Plus Ultra" (Op. 70) is justly admired; the music is fine, and in the matter of technique, setting aside a few sensational passages[88] in Woelfl's sonata, which his very long fingers enabled him to execute with comparative ease, far surpassed the earlier work. It must appear strange to many musicians who do not possess a copy of Woelfl's sonata, that, in any mention of the rivalry between the two composers, no reference is made to Woelfl's sonata beyond the title. An examination of the latter, however, would soon solve the mystery. The plain fact is this: both the music and even the technique are now absolutely uninteresting. The sonata, in the key of F major, commences with a brief introductory Adagio, followed by a long, tedious Allegro abounding in passages of thirds. A brief Andante comes between this Allegro and the Finale, consisting of flimsy variations on the popular melody "Life let us Cherish." In a book of small compass such as the present one, we only wish to dwell upon matters of interest. For some particular purpose Woelfl's sonatas might possibly prove of importance and even interest; but not here. The "Non plus Ultra," so far as we are concerned, may serve to remind us that Woelfl once lived; while the rest of his music, like some incidents in his life, may be consigned to oblivion. We cannot say that we have read all his sonatas, but enough of them, we believe, to judge, generally, of their contents.
Professor Macfarren's opinion of Dussek, as composer for the pianoforte, in the Imperial Dictionary of Biography, is so excellent, that we cannot perhaps do better than quote his words:—
"The immense amount of Dussek's compositions for the pianoforte have by no means equal merit; many of them were written for the mere object of sale, still more for the purpose of tuition, and some with the design of executive display. Of those which were produced, however, in the true spirit of art, expressing the composer's feelings in his own unrestrained ideas, there exist quite enough to stamp him one of the first composers for his instrument; and while these are indispensable in the complete library of the pianist, they are above value to the student in the development of his mechanism and the formation of his style. A strong characteristic of the composer is his almost redundant profusion of ideas;[89] but his rich fecundity of invention is greatly counterbalanced by diffuseness of design, resulting from the want of that power of condensation by means of which greater interest is often given to less beautiful matter."