From a photograph
The entire work is in the nature of the development of a germinal thought. This thought expresses itself in various forms; in the initial fugue subject, in the gyrating theme of the second movement, in the half-barbaric dance of the last. The quartet is, broadly speaking, a series of variations, each outgrown from one before. The music literally grows. In the quartet of Franck it progresses, and its various themes are arranged. His method is nearer akin to the symphonic poems of Liszt, or to the Symphonie Fantastique of Berlioz. The affinities between the various movements of the C-sharp minor quartet are subtle, indeed almost not to be proved but only felt. In the quartet of César Franck, the relationships are evident and even striking. This question of form, however, concerns all branches of music, and is not peculiar to the quartet.
Among the many devoted pupils of César Franck one is distinguished by, among other things, two excellent quartets. This is Vincent d’Indy. The quartet in D major, opus 35, was composed in 1890, the second quartet, in E major, opus 45, in 1897. The second reveals two characteristic features of d’Indy’s style: a use of folk-melodies, together with a powerful intellectual command of the principles of musical form. The cycle of four movements is constructed upon a single motive which is printed as a motto at the head of the score. The procedure recalls Schumann, particularly the Sphinxes of the Carnaval. There is a slow introduction in which the motive is made clear. An animated movement in sonata form then follows, of which the opening measures (cello) are sprung from the motive, and developed into a broad melody (first violin). After a lovely second theme (G major, first violin, initiated by viola) there is a long development of the motive and this first theme. In one section—très calme—the motive appears augmented—now for viola, now for first violin and at the same time violoncello (syncopated). In the next section it is tossed about between the violins, over a repeated B (violoncello). Suggestions of the returning theme are given in C-sharp major (first violin) and in C-sharp minor (second violin). The second theme returns, regularly, in E major (viola).
In the following movement the motive is given in a piquant dance-like style (5-4). In the adagio (très lent) it forms the first notes of the chief melody (first violin and viola in unison); and in the last movement is reduced to an accompanying whirr, suggestive of the beginning of the last movement of the pianoforte quintet of Franck. It is likewise in the monotonous melody of the first violin, taken up by the 'cello, by the two violins in unison and repeated with a mad sort of swing. Near the end it is given a soft, gently songful character (first violin) in long notes, while the viola continues softly the same motive on a different degree of the scale and in a different rhythm.
There is an unfinished quartet in C minor, opus 35, by Ernest Chausson, consisting of three movements. The development of the first theme of the first out of the motive of the slow introduction is worthy of notice. The scherzo is delicate, but the best of the work is in the slow middle movement, with its calm interweaving of soft voices over a drowsy figure, and its moments of enraptured song.
There is a strong classical element, however, in the quartet of César Franck and even in d’Indy’s quartet in E major. Both, compared with one of the later quartets of Beethoven, will appear more richly scored and harmonically more highly colored than the older work. And yet, in spite of the introduction of new ideas of form, the old ideas still are at the basis of these works. This is because both composers have adhered to the fundamental harmonic principles of the classics, the principle of a tonic key, of a dominant key, of keys that are contrasted with the tonic key. They have added to the heritage which passed from Beethoven and Schubert, through Chopin and Wagner, to them; but they have discarded no part of it, nor added to it except in kind. The richness of their works, however, must signalize a further and remarkable growth upon the ancient stock of Bach and Beethoven.
IV
In a great many Russian quartets the adherence to established forms is even more evident. The three quartets of Tschaikowsky and the two of Borodine may be taken as representative of what we must now call the older Russian school. The well-known quartet in D (opus 11) by the former follows the classical model step by step as to the arrangement of themes and even the disposition of keys. And though the later quartets, in F (opus 22) and in E-flat minor (opus 30, written in memory of Ferdinand Laub [1832-1875], a famous violinist) present wild and even harsh features, the ground plan of them is essentially the classical plan. We have but to note in them a richer and more highly colored harmony, and a few sonorous effects—the muted beginning of the first part of the second movement in opus 11; the pizzicato basso ostinato in the second part of the same movement; the syncopated chords, the rolling accompaniment (cello in the development section) in the first movement of opus 22; and others.
It would, of course, be absurd to claim that the Tschaikowsky quartets are classical in style, or in spirit. Their quality is most intensely romantic. Rhythm, melody, and harmony have well-nigh a barbaric guise in many places. Yet they represent but modifications and alterations of a familiar plan. We have a new poem in a language that has not yet developed beyond our knowledge of it. Of the haunting beauty of these poems in music there is little need to speak.
Borodine in regard to form is classical. The first movement of the quartet in A is a masterpiece in clear construction. The exposition of the principal allegro theme is as simple as Haydn. The second theme follows regularly in E major. There is a development section with a little fugato, and a restatement of the chief themes, both in the tonic key. The first movement of the later quartet—in D major—is similarly regular in structure. And there is scarcely any structural oddity or newness in any of the subsequent movements. But Borodine, like Tschaikowsky, has added a touch of new colors here and there which mark an advance—at least technical—in handling the instruments together. His style is remarkably clear throughout. Note only the opening measures of the allegro. And it loses none of its transparency when it expands to effects of great sonority, as in the treatment of the second theme at the end of the development section, and of the first theme later on in the restatement. The use of harmonics in the Trio is almost unprecedented in quartet music.