For virtuoso pianists an entirely new world remains to be conquered in the works of Brahms. Beginning with those of his earliest period, there is even then a marvelous novelty in the combinations and, above all, a peculiarly rich and melodic quality of thought which rarely forsakes him, even in the passages where at first sight it seems impossible to make anything of the music beyond an extremely trying exercise. The melodiousness of Brahms and the complexity of the forms in which beautiful conceptions express themselves is even surpassed by the endless variety of new forms and effects which these works reveal. Passages which to the casual player seem dry and forbidding, when properly interpreted, and played gently and melodiously as Brahms demanded, reveal themselves full of an inner warmth and ideality such as no recent master has surpassed or equaled.
From the piano-playing side these new effects rest upon the utmost equality and suppleness of the fingers, a much wider extension of the hand than any previous composer demanded (save possibly Schumann in the "Kreisleriana" and the "Phantasie"), and a melodic quality in all the voices. When to these are added the necessary discrimination of touch and the clear definition of the contrasting voices, together with a sensitive and changeful use of the pedal, the new worlds open.
Beginning with the most advanced of these technical unfoldings, let us take the variations upon a theme from Paganini, of which there are two books. At first view the variations in the first book seem to address themselves exclusively to technical objects, the first variation containing a succession of sixths in the right hand which is extremely trying, the second variation having the same succession for the left hand. In the third variation a very capricious figure is taken as pattern, and the piano is covered in a new way. In the fourth variation there is a long capricious figure and trills high up in the treble with the weak fingers of the right hand. These trills are afterward transferred to the bass, where the thumb and second finger have them, the design being apparently technical. In the fifth variation a very characteristic trick of Brahms' music is brought out in strong light. It is his way of carrying on together a cantus firmus in two's and a counterpoint in three's. All his writing is full of this expedient, one design of which is to mystify the rhythm and to impart to the music a more flowing and ideal character, and at the same time to concentrate the attention of the player upon the large meter, with which these conflicting two's and three's never interfere. In the sixth variation a syncopated effect. In the seventh, very brilliant octave effects. In the eighth a sort of caprice. In the ninth, an extremely brilliant octave effect. In the tenth, the excitement quiets a little, and the variation begins sotto voce. In the eleventh, we enter the major key, and a very delightful and beautiful effect is here produced. The twelfth, again, begins to contain greater difficulties, and our old friend of the two's and three's greets us. The thirteenth, a very brilliant octave variation, which in the fourteenth is carried to a still higher point, and leads immediately to a finale, which concludes the first book.
In the second book technical discussion of this theme is resumed with some running thirds in the bass, which are very troublesome; and in the course of this second book a variety of highly ingenious technical effects are unfolded, almost any one of which affords practice for a very good player for quite a long time. In fact, from a technical point of view, a moderately accomplished pianist might spend perhaps a year in mastering these variations, and at the end of the time would be unable to play them with any artistic effect, unless exceptionally gifted. At the same time, in spite of the technical complication and the apparent absorption in technical treatment of the instrument which these variations show, they each and every one have a legitimate musical object, and when played with a sufficiently masterly technic—as, for instance, by Joseffy, Godowsky, or Rosenthal—they are among the most interesting examples of the evolution of piano playing.
Similar qualities also show themselves in the earliest set of variations upon a theme of Schumann's, and in the beautiful variations upon an original theme in D major, opus 21; but perhaps even better than anywhere else in the variations upon a theme of Händel, opus 22, where the beautiful, the musically fresh and pleasing, and the technically unforeseen meet and intermingle with one another.
The Händel variations begin somewhat modestly, and as the theme is in the major mode and the harmonies limited almost entirely to tonic and dominant, Brahms was almost compelled to be simple and melodious at times. He contents himself in the earlier variations with rhythmic complications, which are very ingenious and delightful, particularly in the second variation, where a chromatic movement in two's is accompanied in the soprano by a triplet formation. It is doubtful whether any pianoforte work of recent times affords such a brilliant illustration of how much can be done in art by a fortunate combination of constructive ability of the most masterly character with high ideality as Brahms has given in these variations upon the Händel theme. They are, at the same time, musical, melodious, rhythmically interesting. The student will do well if he desires a lesson in musical evolution to refer to the variations in their original form as written by Händel. They can be found in the Händel "Lessons for the Harpsichord," edited by Kohler, in the Peters edition. Händel gives but five variations, and these are all of very moderate difficulty. Nevertheless, while they were written for the use of amateurs, they contain nearly all of the Händel art of variation-making, as the reader can easily satisfy himself by comparing their treatment with that in the famous "Harmonious Blacksmith" variations in E major.
A very remarkable, and at present almost unknown, chapter of the Brahms cult is afforded by his four Ballads, opus 10. These are short,—only about four pages each,—and when properly interpreted are very noble and beautiful. The first, in D minor, has an opening theme of a very serious and almost antique character, like an old ballad. After one page of this a second subject comes, allegro, in D major, very much more dramatic and broken. This lasts about a page; the principal theme is resumed again, with certain variations of treatment, and the whole concludes at the end of the third page. The second ballad is of a softer and more tender character in its principal subject, and very beautiful it is, too; but the second subject, in B minor, is very emphatic in rhythm, and is followed by a middle piece in B major, in 6/4 time, which is rather difficult to play satisfactorily to one's self. Then the second subject returns, and finally the first, in the key of B major, changing afterward to minor, and thus the end. The third ballad is marked intermezzo, and has the character of a scherzo. It is rather difficult. The fourth ballad, again, is a purely lyric composition, and is precisely what its name implies—a story, a melody with a past. The middle piece of this ballad is in F-sharp major, the original key of the whole being B major, and there is a very pretty and reposeful melodic effect. Nevertheless, the tonality of the piece throughout is extremely vague, no key being adhered to for any length of time, but modulations occurring with a free hand. This ballad is carried out to the extent of eight pages, and is the longest of the lot.
A careful study of these ballads will show them to be works of the deepest poetry, which, while never appealing to the player in search of the grateful and effective, nevertheless richly reward the most intimate acquaintance, and show themselves full of ideality and musical suggestiveness. That they are devoid of all kinds of passage work and pianoforte effects, as such, is merely another way of saying that they are entirely and exclusively loyal to the ideal and the poetic; and these elements in them must eventually give them long life.
A lighter side of the Brahms cult is shown in the Waltzes, opus 39. There are sixteen of these, all short, and very poetic and not at all forbidding in their manner of writing. One or two of them are quite difficult; as, for instance, No. 6. Most of them, however, are within the reach of players of medium grade.
The later works of Brahms have already begun to find currency in the more advanced musical circles in Europe, but for some time after their first publication their value was persistently denied, and they are as yet entirely unknown to the amateur. The following works have been selected as on the whole representing the later development of Brahms to the greatest advantage.