Part 12 (1/2)
CHAPTER IX
SCHUMANN, CHOPIN, BRAHMS, AND LISZT
After Beethoven, the first composer of note was Robert Schumann, one of the founders of the so-called romantic school. In one of his letters he refers to Beethoven's choral symphony ”as the turning-point from the cla.s.sical to the romantic period.” By reading, Schumann had cultivated his imagination, but his musical training was irregular; and, indeed, when he first commenced composing, practically _nil_. If his soul was stirred by some poem, or tale, or by remembrance of some dear friend, he sought to express his thoughts and feelings, and on the spur of the moment. In a letter he writes: ”I have been all the week at the piano, composing, writing, laughing, and crying, all at once. You will find this state of things nicely described in my Op.
20, the 'Grosse Humoreske,' which is already at the printer's. You see how quickly I always work now. I get an idea, write it down, and have it printed; that's what I like. Twelve sheets composed in a week!” And thus short-tone poems, or a long piece, such as the ”Humoreske,” of irregular form, were the result. Now that was not the way in which he composed his two sonatas. He was two years, off and on, at work on the first, in F sharp minor (Op. 11), and eight on the other, in G minor (Op. 22). One may therefore conclude that the fetters of form were a source of trouble to him. And he can scarcely have felt very enthusiastic over his task; in 1839, after both sonatas were completed, he declared that ”although from time to time fine specimens of the sonata species made their appearance, and, probably, would continue to do so, it seemed as if that form of composition had run its appointed course.”
Of the two sonatas, the one in F sharp minor is the more interesting.
The Aria is a movement of exquisite simplicity and tenderness, and the Scherzo, with its _Intermezzo alla burla_, has life and character. But the Allegro, which follows the poetical introduction, and the Finale are patchy, and at times laboured. It must not, however, be supposed that they are uninteresting. The music has poetry and pa.s.sion, and the strong pa.s.sages atone for the weak ones. There were composers at that time who could produce sonatas more correct in form, and more logical in treatment, yet not one who could have written music so filled with the spirit of romance.
The Sonata in G minor resembles its predecessor both in its strong and its weak points. Considered, however, as a whole, it is less warm, less intense. It is unnecessary to describe the two works in detail, for they must be familiar to all musicians, and especially pianists. A sympathetic rendering of them will always give pleasure; but in a history of evolution they are of comparatively small moment. It is interesting to compare them with the Fantasia in C (Op. 17), a work in which Schumann displayed the full power of his genius.
Chopin was another composer whose spirit moved uneasily within the limits of the sonata. The first which he wrote (we do not reckon the posthumous one in C minor)--the one in B flat minor--is an impressive work. There is a certain rugged power in the opening movement, and the Scherzo is pa.s.sionate, and its Trio tender. The picturesque March owes much of its effect to its colouring and contrasts; while the extraordinary Finale sounds weird and uncanny. In the hands of a great interpreter the music makes a powerful appeal; yet as a sonata it is not really great. It lacks organic development, unity. The Sonata in B minor, though attractive to pianists, is an inferior work. The first movement, with exception of its melodious second theme, is dry, and the Finale belongs to the _bravoura_ order of piece. The Scherzo is light and graceful. The slow movement is the most poetical of the four, though spun out at too great length. The real Chopin is to be found in his nocturnes, mazurkas, and ballads, not in his sonatas.
Among modern sonatas, the three by Brahms (C, Op. 1; F sharp minor, Op. 2; and F minor, Op. 5) claim special notice. With the exception of the Liszt Sonata in B minor, which, whatever its musical value, at least opens up ”new paths” in the matter of form, the Brahms sonatas are the only ones since Schumann which distinctly demand detailed notice. The composer followed ordinary Beethoven lines; with exception of the Intermezzo of the 3rd Sonata, the number and order of movement resemble those of many a Beethoven sonata; while there is enlargement, not change in the matter of form. Brahms studied the special means by which his great predecessor, in some instances, sought to accentuate the unity between various sections of a sonata; he steeped his soul in the romantic music of Beethoven, Schubert, Chopin, and Schumann, and, in addition, trained his intellect to grasp the mysteries of counterpoint, and to perceive the freer modern uses to which it was put by the cla.s.sical masters. Brahms' early acquaintance with Liszt opened up to him, too, the resources of modern technique. And thus, possessing individuality of his own, in addition to these inheritances and acquirements, Brahms wrote sonatas, which, though in the main on old lines, are no mere imitations, pale reflexes of his predecessors.
The 1st Sonata, in C (Op. 1), has for its opening theme one which has been said to resemble the opening theme of Beethoven's Op. 106. It will be well to look on this picture (Beethoven)--
[Music ill.u.s.tration]
and on this (Brahms)--
[Music ill.u.s.tration]
There is resemblance in the matter of rhythm, but the up-beat in Beethoven const.i.tutes a marked difference; and, besides, the succession of notes differs in each case. Brahms's theme, already at the eighth bar, recommences in a key a tone lower; a similar proceeding, by the way, is to be found in Beethoven's Sonata in G (Op.
31, No 1). After a few points of imitation, and digression through various keys, we meet with a new theme in A minor, the soft, tender character of which contrasts well with the bold opening one. But unity amid diversity is Brahms' aim; and here the contrast does not prevent a certain kins.h.i.+p between them--one, however, which can be felt rather than explained.[105] Of another pianissimo phrase, still in A minor, much use is afterwards made. The prominence given in the exposition section to the subject-matter styled ”secondary,” and still more so in the development section, is peculiar; this feature had certainly not been copied from Beethoven, who, as a rule, made his first theme of first importance. Brahms concludes his exposition section in the opening key of the movement,--a return to early methods; Beethoven adopted a similar course in the first movement of his Op. 53. Brahms'
development section is comparatively short. Of counterpoint we get a good ill.u.s.tration in the combinations of both first and second themes; of colour, in the presentation of the mournful minor theme in the major key; and of originality, in the bars leading to the recapitulation. In this last instance, the idea of gradually drawing closer together the members of a phrase was borrowed from Beethoven, but not the manner in which it is carried out. In the earlier master it often stands out as a special feature; here we have, besides, counter rhythm, and ambiguous modulation. When the princ.i.p.al theme returns, it is clothed first with subdominant, then with tonic minor harmony. The movement concludes with a vigorous coda evolved from the opening theme. Five bars from the end, the first two bars of that theme are given out in their original form; and then, as if repet.i.tion were not sufficient, a thematic cadence is added, in which the notes are given in loud tones, in augmented form, and, in addition, with slackened _tempo_ (_largamente_). The slow movement (Andante) was, we believe, one of Brahms' earliest efforts at composition; it is said to have been written by him at the age of fourteen. It consists of a theme with variations; and the former is based on an old German Minnelied. The words of the folk song are written beneath the notes, as if to put the listener into the right mood.[106] We need not dwell on the variations, in which Beethoven and Schubert are the prevailing influences, though not to any alarming extent. The music is by no means difficult; for Brahms, indeed, remarkably easy. The movement opens in C minor, but closes in C major. A Scherzo follows (E minor, six-eight time; Allegro molto e con fuoco); it has a trio in C major.
The Scherzo, with its varied rhythm, is full of life; the Trio, interesting in harmony, and also in the matter of rhythm. The Finale (another Allegro con fuoco; the young composer has mounted his fiery Pegasus) opens in C, in nine-eight time, thus--
[Music ill.u.s.tration]
a metamorphosis, in fact, of the opening theme of the sonata. And later on we have a similar re-presentation of subject-matter from the first movement. This Finale is musically and technically attractive, yet scarcely on the same high level as the first movement. But the age of the composer must be taken into consideration; for quite a young man, it is a wonderful production.
The 2nd Sonata (Op. 2) is in F sharp minor. The Allegro non troppo ma energico is a movement which in its subject-material breathes the spirit of Chopin: the weird, stormy opening in the princ.i.p.al key may claim kins.h.i.+p with the opening of the Polish composer's ”Polonaise” in the same key; while a certain strain in the melodious second subject brings to one's mind a Chopin Nocturne, also in F sharp minor; in neither case, however, is there anything amounting to plagiarism. The exposition section is not repeated. The development is clever, though, perhaps, somewhat formal. Again here, the secondary theme occupies, apparently, chief attention; but it is supported by a ba.s.s evolved from a princ.i.p.al motive. And in transition pa.s.sages of the exposition, and also in the recapitulation section and coda--
[Music ill.u.s.tration]
in one or other shape, makes itself heard; so that, though outwardly subordinate, its function is important: it binds together various portions of the movement, and thus promotes union. The Andante which follows, consists, as in the 1st Sonata, of a theme with variations.
There is nothing novel either in the theme or its mode of treatment.
Certain chords, cadences, figures, suggest Schubert--an idol whom Brahms has never ceased to wors.h.i.+p; and, in one place, the three staves, and a few pa.s.sages, show the influence of Liszt, the pianist _par excellence_ of the days in which this sonata was written; but the movement has, in addition to romantic charm, individuality. It commences in B minor; then after a short expressive pa.s.sage in major, an arpeggio chord leads directly to the Scherzo; the following shows the outward connection between the two movements--
[Music ill.u.s.tration: Commencement of Andante theme.]
[Music ill.u.s.tration: Scherzo.]
This bright, clever Scherzo, with its soft Schubertian trio, need not detain us. The final Allegro is preceded by a short introduction, in which the chief theme and other material of the Finale are set forth.