Hob. # |
Genre |
Key |
Instruments / Notes |
11:73 |
Trio |
G |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
11:74 |
Trio |
D |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
11:75 |
Trio |
A |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
11:76 |
Trio |
C |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
11:77 |
Trio |
G |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
11:78 |
Trio |
D |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
11:79 |
Trio |
D |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
11:80 |
Trio |
G |
Baryton, Viola & Cello Book 4 |
17a:1 |
Sonata |
F |
Keyboard - 4 Hands – Il Maestro e lo scolare |
17a:2 |
Sonata |
F |
Keyboard - 4 Hands |
18:4 |
Concerto |
G |
Solo keyboard - 2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings |
In earlier essays, and not much earlier at that, I commented on the volume of baryton trios which poured out of Haydn's pen from late 1765 to mid-1768. Seventy-two trios in a bare three years! Now, just a year beyond then, we see a 'mere' eight for the year! Well, to be fair, there is no telling exactly how many, really, although some actually are dated. And those dated 1769 fall in this range. This is another of those cases where precision is lacking. Book III was presented to the Prince in July, 1768, and Book IV was a (probable) Name Day gift in December, 1771. So I've resorted to my old formula of doing the math and spreading out twenty-four trios as eight over each of three years. Still, there are plenty of little nuggets here for you baryton fanatics. The little Presto finale of #75 or in #80, the inside Allegro con spirito, and a host of other small beauties will please the attentive listener. In order to enjoy any of these particular works though, you will need to have the Complete Baryton Trios box, since in my entire collection not a single one of these appears elsewhere. One of the thoughts I had while checking this is it would be nice if musicians or producers would check on little facts such as this when planning a new recording. I wonder, really, how many more versions I need of the seven movement Hob. 11:97, the Birthday Trio, which seems to appear on nearly every disk! Not that there is anything wrong with it, of course, but aside from having an abundance of movements it doesn't differ significantly from any of the little gems which are so often ignored, even the fugue is not unique, although the tiny Polonaise might be. No matter, it's the principle. I have seven versions of it now, so I can play the entire using one movement from each of them! That's not right. There, my little rant for the day, and over so soon.
Keyboard four-hands is an interesting genre, gaining popularity steadily from its putative beginnings in May, 1765 when Mozart, in London on the Grand Tour, composed a little sonata in C (K 19d) to play in a performance with his sister, Nannerl. Whether Leopold's contention, that this was the first work composed for 2 players on one clavier, is true or not, the beginnings of the genre still date from around this time. In addition to being a fine teaching tool, the social aspects are what put it over the top in a Vienna which for the next 100 years or more would be obsessed with the piano, both at public performance and especially in the home. The intimacy of making music together not only made romantic opportunities available, but also sealed friendships among people of similar artistic and social tastes.
If you have Tom Beghin's box set on Naxos, then you have the DVD he includes in it, with a young lady playing with him for the 4-hand sonata, Il Maestro e lo scolare. His commentary as they move along is quite interesting, since his belief is this is another of Haydn's displays of wit, namely; the student part in here is actually more difficult than the master's part, and Haydn is poking fun at the genre of masters, much as he did in his little opera La Cantarina. It is difficult to not agree with him as they play through and demonstrate various aspects. The work itself has always been very popular, and since it is Haydn's only certain essay in the genre, it is well worth a listen. It is not an extraordinarily catchy tune or harmonic adventure, since it actually was usable as a teaching aid, it only has the added bit of Haydnish humor which does nothing to detract from its utility.
Another work which is attributed to Haydn is nearly in this same genre, and may very well be by him, is the sonata in F for 2 Keyboards, Hob 17a:2. Sonatas for two keyboards never quite achieved the popularity of 4-hands works, possibly because in the home, having two keyboards was a more difficult task, and the driving force for composers was generally publishers desires, and those were based on sales etc. etc.. So, we have another lone specimen, and we aren't even sure Haydn wrote this one! That said, it is an enjoyable work of about 10 minutes length in the lone recording I have, by Christine Schornsheim and Andreas Staier playing harpsichords. Schornsheim's liner notes don't talk about this work at all, and neither does Georg Feder in New Grove Haydn. He mentions it, but nothing else, not even a speculation as to its authenticity! You won't see that very often! But did I give up? No, I went the whole way. A. Peter Brown, in his book Joseph Haydn's Keyboard Music – Sources and Style actually gives a brief discussion of it, its history to some extent and the general statement; it is historically attributed to Haydn, it sounds like an authentic Haydn work, and unless something turns up in the future attributing it to someone else, it should be considered genuine. So, even though Schornsheim declined to defend its inclusion in her box set, it seems like a good choice. An interesting anomaly occurs here too. Brown calls this a work for four-hands, while Schornsheim lists it as a work for two keyboards. Since the only instrument which is described for that particular disk is a two manual harpsichord, I would speculate it is being played four hands anyway. No matter the mystery, I am glad she did include it. If you are lucky enough to have this box, check it out; the last work on Disk 3.
Our last work of the year is no mystery though, it is one of the most popular early works, likely due to our continuing devotion to the piano concerto. Ahem, the harpsichord concerto, I meant to say. This work was composed quite shortly after Hob 18:3, and the two of them plus Hob 11 of 1779 form the only three keyboard concertos known to have been specifically composed, not for organ, but for harpsichord or fortepiano. Like some of Haydn's other concertos, this one is believed to have been composed for a certain person, in this case the blind pianist Maria Theresia Paradis, the same lady for whom Mozart composed his concerto in Bb, K 454. Paradis is said to have played it in Paris as late as 1784, by which time it probably sounded a bit dated, since it was no longer dernier cri. It is, nevertheless, an excellent representation of pre-Mozart Viennese keyboard concerto, and has held its popularity since it was put back into the repertoire in the late 1950's. It must have been fairly trendy in its time, however, since Paradis kept it close to home; very few contemporary copies exist. I find this to be an interesting commonality of many of Haydn's concertos of the 1760's; even though they are considered by many modern musicologists to be less than cool, their original owners treasured them to the point they nearly were lost forever due to so few of them being copied. Of course, the first cello concerto and the horn concerto from that period are considered exceptional by any standards, and they only survived because by sheer chance a single copy of each did so. The same can be said of the later trumpet concerto. Good fortune was on our side those times!
This work has mainly spread its popularity due to recordings, of which there are dozens. It seems to be de rigeur for any recording which includes the forthcoming Hob. 18:11 to also include 3 & 4… they're a set, apparently. And a set which is worthwhile shopping around for. As you all know, I am not a recommender of recordings; there are too many tastes to satisfy, my own included. But for those committed to performance by modern piano and orchestra, the recording by Leif Ove Andsnes is a peach. If you are, like me, a fan of period instruments, then you still have choices to make. It is difficult to state with any certainty that this is either a harpsichord or fortepiano work. One can't generalize by saying Haydn didn't have a fortepiano in Eisenstadt or in Eszterháza, since that still leaves the possibility of it having been written in Vienna during winter break, where there were plenty of fortepianos available by 1769. Especially since his dedicatee was a professional keyboardist who was probably well advanced in fortepianistry. So the two versions pictured below represent my choices on each of those instruments. If you don't have this work, you really should check it out. If you want to puzzle on something, try to figure out how Haydn came to be composing a work for an outsider when he was under contract with the Prince. Landon totally skirts the issue (Chronicle & Works Vol 2 pg. 344) and so do all the other authors I have consulted. Surely it occurred to them that this was an odd situation, but apparently since no one seems to know the answer, the question can't be raised. I am delighted for some input if you have any.
Despite being at least begun in 1769, I am leaving the opera Le pescatrici for next year when it was completed and performed. So this wraps up 1769, next we will look at the context of 1770 and some of the excellent music which came from it.
Thanks for reading!