THE PIANOFORTE SONATAS
THE PIANOFORTE SONATAS
1st Sonata, Op. 2, No. 1, in F minor.
The first Sonata has the usual four movements of the Haydn form: Allegro—Adagio—Menuetto and Trio—Prestissimo. The first and the last are in the usual Sonata form proper. The slow movement follows Mozartian lines. This Sonata is the first of the set of three in this Opus, which are all dedicated to Joseph Haydn, and the fact of such a superscription points to the respect which Beethoven had for the older composer, although he could not find it in his heart to continue with him long as his pupil. The whole of the Sonata, which appeared for the first time in 1796 and was probably written much earlier, is decidedly conventional in form, and shews us Beethoven starting on the lines laid down by those who went before him—Philip Emanuel Bach, Haydn, and Mozart.
The first movement is pure Haydn music, and the only glimmer of the future Beethoven comes in with that lovely little tune at the Coda. The development portion is thin and characterless. The first subject of the second movement was adapted from an early pianoforte quartet. A similar process was resorted to in the first movement of the third Sonata of this set for the second subject. The expression of this movement is not deep, nor does it sound that note of serenity which we regard as the chief characteristic of a Beethoven slow movement of the mature period.
The Minuet and Trio is purely Mozartian, especially in its double counterpoint and its inversion of parts. Some characteristic touches are found in the second subject of the last movement, which is in two parts, and the use of an altogether new subject in the development portion. This device is next used in the Sonata in F, Opus 10, No. 2—a device carried to great perfection in the development portion of the first movement of the Eroica Symphony. The use of this broad subject does away with any idea of development, although the movement is built up on a figure of three chords, a point referred to in both codas. The first part of the second subject has that weird, foreboding feeling, which we feel frequently in Schumann's music. Already he shews a striking fondness for the diminished third; but the passage is not particularly striking. Far otherwise is the beautiful little tune of eight bars which forms the second part of this subject.