|
Hob. # |
Genre |
Key |
Instruments |
|
5:21 |
Trio |
D |
2 Violins & Baßo (Cello) |
|
12:20 |
Divertimento |
G |
Baryton Solo |
|
12:21 |
Divertimento |
D |
Baryton Solo |
|
12:22 |
Divertimento |
A |
Baryton Solo |
|
12:23 |
Divertimento |
G |
Baryton Solo |
In this year we say 'so long' to one of my favorite genres, the string trio. I have to admit I'm not sure I understand what this stray is doing way out here, all on his own. Still, we are assured he belongs here, and so we mustn't ponder too long. This one opens with a dance movement, a Siciliano which is a dance form which Haydn came back to even as late as The Creation. This opening Adagio is a reminder that the Baroque wasn't so long over, and it was not uncommon, in fact it was the norm, to open a chamber work such as this with a slow dance movement. This one has a lovely tune to it, and taken at a quasi-Andante pace, as it is in both of my recordings, it tends to be memorable even among the great pile of string trio movements which are its peers. The inner movement is a pleasant Allegro, and we close with a Menuet and Trio which are surprisingly on the slower side than we have already become used to hearing from Haydn, but again, with a memorable tune. Altogether this is a fitting farewell to a genre which was entirely likely to have been the first purely instrumental one which Haydn composed in. If I haven't given appropriate weight to each of them as they came and went, it is not due to any insignificance on their part, they came at a time when the flood of works from his pen threatens to overwhelm the poor auditor!
Now, what are we to make of these four (surviving?) works for solo Baryton? It is surmised that they may have had accompaniment from a cello, but if so, then those parts are lost too, if they existed at all. I can't really talk about the music itself here, since all that remains of whatever might once have been is a very small (smaller than most!) fragment of each, scarcely more than an incipit, the longest being 24 seconds. But whether they still exist or they don't, the question remains: what were they? In lieu of retransmitting any formally established ideas, which have currently amassed from all quarters to the number zero, I will simply say that the most likely thing I can think of is Haydn wrote some short pieces for Nicholas to use for practice when he was alone. Etudes then. So we probably aren't missing out on a Classical Era version of Bach's Suites for Solo Baryton, or at least I tell myself so in order to not feel too badly about missing some potentially intriguing works. The likelihood we will ever know more about them than we do today is somewhere between Slim and None, and I fear Slim has left the building. So it goes.
And a few more:
|
Hob. # |
Genre |
Key |
Instruments |
|
16:03 |
Sonata |
C |
Keyboard |
|
16:04 |
Sonata |
D |
Keyboard |
|
16:05a |
Sonata |
D |
Keyboard |
|
16:47 |
Sonata |
e |
Keyboard |
|
17:01 |
Capriccio |
G |
Keyboard |
|
17:02 |
Variations |
G |
20 Variations Keyboard |
|
23c:4a |
Sacred Music |
Bb, d, A, Ab |
Responsoria de Venerabili "Lauda Sion" for Chorus, 2 Horns & Strings |
Whether it was the spur of Haydn's virtuoso harpsichord writing in last year's cantata Qual dubbio, ormai as Landon postulates, or some other, unknown, fancy, we now see a sudden burst of activity in the solo keyboard arena. This is not to say that Haydn ever abandoned the keyboard, virtually every piece of music he wrote was composed at his clavier, and that never changed, but we haven't seen any datable completed compositions since the late Morzin years, circa 1761. What we now have are a nice pair of sonatas in Haydn's traditional style, what was originally thought to be the fragmentary keyboard part of a keyboard quartet (16:5a / 14:5), a forward looking sonata (16:47 #19 in e), and a pair of 'other' keyboard works which include one of Haydn's traditional variation sets on the one hand, and a sort of watershed work on the other.
As always with Haydn's early keyboard works, we are stuck just a bit with the chronology. As much as anything, these works have been nailed down by stylistic means, which is to say they are simply better written than probably earlier works are. And in fact, it is hard to disagree, really. Even the parts which take earlier models bear the signs of being tightened up, and more exploratory ideas both melodically and harmonically than the earlier works do.
It is the non-sonata Klavierstücken of this year which provide the most interest though. And the most fodder for disagreement among musicologists, something which we mere listeners have to be ambivalent about, since what we want are answers, not arguments. The first of these two works is the Capriccio in G on 'Acht Sauschneider müssen seyn' (It takes eight strong men), a very popular old folksong. Oddly, this same tune was used by Mozart at nearly the same time as one of the components of his quodlibet Galimathias Musicum, although this all took place far away in Holland, where the Mozarts were attending the installation of the Prince of Orange. Haydn's Capriccio first appeared publicly in 1788 in a group of (probably stolen) Haydn compositions by Artaria. It is advanced enough in structure that until the original autograph was found with the 1765 date, no one questioned it as a 'current' work. There are such a variety of interesting subjects for debate here, it is no surprise musicologists have hopped right aboard. For example, those who fancy Haydn as a follower of C.P.E. Bach have pointed out that this is put together just like a rondo style used in Bach's monumental Für Kenner und Liebhaber, but since that work didn't appear in print until 1780, the discovery of the original autograph manuscript dated 1765 can only be used here to prove Haydn's psychic abilities!
Another discussion point is the one proposal that Haydn actually composed the work for the fortepiano. Despite the change of the date, surprisingly many, including Robbins-Landon, clung on to that for a long time. However, if you have made the brilliant step of acquiring Tom Beghin's Complete Works for Keyboard (The Virtual Haydn – CD version) box, the included DVD shows a wonderful demonstration which adds the context of the piece in all its importance. Here is a superb example of Haydn's wit, which would be totally lost without being played on a Viennese harpsichord with a 'short octave'. This consists of some keys at the bottom of the bass which are cut into either two or three pieces, thus scrunching together the keys so that a player can reach notes simultaneously which he couldn't have done otherwise. In total, there are four works by Haydn which can't be played as written on any other instrument, one just doesn't have the hands for it. The point of the folk song this work is based on is that it is a round, so to say, in which it takes, at first, eight strong men to castrate a boar, and then on subsequent iterations it takes seven, then six etc. But the point of humor, which would be lost if played on a fortepiano, is no other than the word 'cut', it you were singing along (as people did) is played on the key that is cut in half. Even the choice of key is made for the purpose of placing this note in that place. So whether you choose a clavichord or a cembalo, it needs the 'cut' key to serve Haydn's purpose. Naturally, only the keyboardist would have been in on the joke, even more reason to like it!
The other Hob 17 work from this year is an outstanding set of variations, one which, when it was published along with the Capriccio in 1788, was butchered all to be damned. As written, the 20 Variations in G constitute one of the most important sets of variations of the Classical Era, since they are constructed as a huge melodic arch of connected variations which solve the issue of how to vary the theme in a way which leaves the parts coherently connected to each other. When Artaria got hold of the manuscript, they dumped eight of the variations altogether and changed the order to suit whatever idea they had in mind, thus disrupting the entire structure of the work, and hiding the accomplishment like camouflage. Not to mention changing the key. Robbins-Landon (Chronicle & Works Vol. 1 p549) is a great pains to try and discount the 'short octave' solution for this work as well as the Capriccio, but I fear he is unconvincing. Haydn, even 240 years down the road, still manages to keep his counsel and laugh in his sleeve at attempts to figure him out.
The final piece we look at this year is Haydn's second 'Lauda Sion', which he revisits now fifteen years after his original effort in 1750. That first work, which very nearly was a first work, was in C major in all four responses. Forgive me if I repeat here the explanation I gave in the 1750 essay: The Feast of Corpus Christi was one of the high feast days of the Liturgical Calendar, celebrated throughout the country with masses, processions and various sacred celebrations. One of these involved a blessing given out to the Four Corners of the World, and the celebrant would visit four altars in the church (or in multiple churches) and give a blessing from each in turn. At each direction, a hymn would be played and sung by the musical forces while the priest was saying the prayers. These four motets are for that purpose. Where these works differ from the first set, in addition to their improved quality of course, is that they are each in a different key, lack the festive trumpets of the C Major Viennese version, and generally have a more somber cast, described as 'penitential' by Wyn Jones. They are very attrractive, and a strong reminder that Haydn hadn't lost his touch with sacred music.
This brings an era to a close. In the next year we will see the passing of Werner and the advancement of Haydn to the top, the moving of the entire household to the Eighth Wonder of the World (Hungarian edition) for better than half of each year, and a whole new suite of music for Haydn (and us) to listen to and enjoy.
Thanks for reading!