Haydn Seek

1772 – The Music part 1 - The Greatest Year Ever?

Hob	Key	NC	HRL	Name	Instruments
47	G	54	56	The Palindrome	2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings
45	f#	55	54	Farewell	2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings
46	B	56	55		2 Oboes, 2 Horns & Strings

As we discussed earlier, Haydn was going through a cours complet de la théorie de la Musique, and in this, his fortieth year, the ideas which were stimulated by this complete course in music theory culminated in some of the finest music he had composed to date, or would for some time to come. In at least two genres which we consider the most important parts of his oeuvre, the works of 1772 are viewed retrospectively as both breakthrough and on a whole new level.

The three symphonies of this year mark the pinnacle of the dramatic style. Or if you prefer, of Sturm und Drang. Don't worry, no rant forthcoming. Glad to see it go, actually. Just a question, do you remember me briefly touching upon the critical reaction to Haydn's music, especially among his critics in Germany? Well, hold that thought for a bit, if you please.

The entire Minuet & Trio of Symphony #47 as Haydn wrote it.

Whoa! A symphony in G; what is this doing here? Likely it was the first symphony in a year famous for its symphonies and other music too, this is one that could get lost in the shuffle if it wasn't so damned good! Mozart thought so, he noted it down on a still existing piece of paper listing the works he planned to play in one of his Mehlgrube concerts. No doubt, as a puzzle-master he was attracted to the minuet (more on that later), but also the opening movement is all in march rhythms, a very rare treat in Haydn. He bounces it around as far afield as the bass in the horns and the treble top line in the oboes. Mozart uses march rhythms freely in his works (alla Marcia) and no doubt was delighted to find it in a Haydn work.

The second movement is a wonderful cantabile which apparently was in the style of an old organ melody, since it is called such by Charles Burney. Haydn reinforces the similarity by having an obbligato bassoon (fagotto sempre col basso) added to the bass line for the entire movement, contributing a tone color which resembles an organ at times, and blending nicely with the horns which are now in D instead of G.

Which brings us to the minuet. There are a variety of unusual happenings in Haydn's symphonies, especially during his 'dramatic' phase, but this one is a tiny bit of genius which is unmatched elsewhere in music history. The entire movement takes less than a page in the score because after the first section repeats, it is played twice more… backwards! The trio follows the same pattern, twice forward and twice in reverse. This is followed by the repeat of the minuet, making the entire movement a large musical palindrome. The genius comes from the fact that the notes were put together to sound equally good in either direction. Even the dynamics mirror each other! How could Mozart not have been fascinated with this? How can you and I not be fascinated with it?

Our next work composed is believed to be #45. It would become the last minor key symphony for ten years, until #78 in 1782. It is also generally considered to be one of Haydn's finest efforts, although you might get an argument there. It is the only known 18^th century symphony in f#. It is also Haydn's only symphony in 5 real movements. According to Webster the last 2 movements are a 'run-on double finale' (thus one movement), but according to Brown that is an oxymoron, and the end of the Adagio is also the correct resolution for the beginning of the Presto. I love the way Haydn confounds the most eminent minds, even today! Here is the takeaway for the listener though: the entire symphony prepares for, and is resolved by, the ending. After 1772, the next symphony which was constructed along similar lines was Beethoven 5! The accompaniment to the first movement Allegro assai sounds unsettling because of the syncopations in the violins anytime an f# triad is played causing a very unusual, vaguely ominous rhythmic sound. This entire movement is an extremely unstructured sonata form, containing, for example, a false reprise which simply goes on with the development instead of moving on to the recapitulation.

One can scarcely describe in a narrative form the construction of the musical form. The most frequently used adjectives in relation to the opening movement are savage and ominous. The main bit of information gained by a non-musician when reading an analysis (I read several!) is the coherence of each bit, which when taken separately seems merely unusual or even bizarre. There is an overarching plan at work here, and each movement follows this plan. The tonal progressions move from instability towards stability, but never quite achieve it. Just when you think things have reached a point of resolution, well, no, that isn't what you get. Each of the first three movements ends off-tonic or otherwise unstable.

This is the way in which the entire symphony has built up to the finale(s). Tonal closure has been systematically postponed throughout the entire symphony right up to the end, and only the 'farewell' Adagio finally allows it to happen. The first part of the finale, the Presto in the tonic key of f# is a typical finale of the time. When it gets to where it would move into the closing bars, however, it changes key to A (the relative major of f# (they both have 3 sharps)), and begins the slow music. I'm not a musicologist or even a mere musician, but the means by which the Adagio resolves every unresolved tonal instability throughout the entire symphony is the stuff of genius. And of course, as the open ends are tied off, the necessary instruments get up and leave, thus the 'script' is also resolved. It is a pantomime, certainly, and one which produced the desired effect upon Nicholas. But in addition, Nicholas was a practicing musician, what was called in the day ein Kenner, and if Haydn indeed was injecting a dose of homesickness with this instability/stability resolution, he certainly made the point.

There are lots of variations on the story which goes along with the 'Farewell'. It is wrong to place a narrative connotation on the entire symphony, as has been done, but the second part of the finale clearly does have a story to tell. Haydn's straightforward relation of it to Griesinger, which is not really as dramatic as all that, is probably just what happened, as he remembers it thirty years later. Griesinger goes on to mention that the variant, which included the Prince being on the verge of bankruptcy and considering disbanding the musicians, was 'poetically more attractive but historically not correct'. To me it is a relatively simple thing: Haydn, the musical genius, had generated a few ideas about how to tie all of the various parts of a symphony into one complete work. He was in the final phases of completing the work when the human resources problem arose, and in a brilliant bit of inspiration, he turned the second half of the finale into a walk-off event. There are lots of mysteries attached to this piece, many of which are based on speculation, such as 'the Prince told him he was going too far down the bizarre path'. And 'why are there no more minor key symphonies for ten years afterward?'. A mystery! One can make any sort of assertion and cap it with a 'who knows?', but in reality, it is nothing more than fodder for the imagination.

Our last of this superlative triumvirate, is often considered to be a pair with the f# minor symphony. They have some shared characters, such as being in remote, sharp-side keys (5 & 3 respectively). While there appear to have been no other f# minor symphonies in the 18^th century, there was at least one other B Major symphony, and it is one which Haydn would have heard in his choirboy days in Vienna, by Georg Monn. This is Haydn's only extant work in B, although as we saw a couple of years ago there is the incipit in EK for a lost keyboard sonata in that remote key. As I mentioned in the introduction to the year, there is a bill for a 'half-tone crook' for the horn which would allow him to play his C horn in B. And a good thing too, because there are some especially difficult and virtuosic parts to be played here!

The similarity is to #44 rather than #45 in the opening. It shares the technique of using the first four notes throughout the remainder of the movement in a variety of contrapuntal fashions. I can hardly help but remember the critics in Berlin, who, at this same period, were slamming Haydn for being ignorant of the rules of music. Here we are masterfully presented with first species, third species and invertible counterpoint, effortlessly tossed off from those same four notes which were the unison opening. The rhythmical and contrapuntal texture is as thick as you could ask, and yet the entire has a finely transparent presentation based on the 2 part string writing and the high piercing sound of the horns in B alto. Ignorant indeed!

The other big surprise in this work comes in the finale, although it begins with the minuet. One of the major structures Haydn uses in the finale is the rest, some of which extend as long as 2 measures. It would seem as though these were intended to break up the various structures of sonata form into discrete chunks, and so they do. Except when one of the chunks that follows a rest turns out to be the minuet again! Which then moves back into the Presto finale theme. And when you think that is done, ho! There is the minuet back again! After which things proceed to the end. And pause again, and finally give us a nice finish. This sort of reprising of movements within other movements is a part of the cyclic idea which Haydn has been working on for a long time. This is one solution he came up with, there have been and will be others. The often commented similarity to Beethoven's symphony #5 is actually highly unlikely, even though there is a similar uses of quotations in the finale from previous movements, there is precious little else the same, plus no evidence whatsoever that Beethoven was even aware of the existence of this work.

Statements such as this one, quoted from a Hamburg periodical of 1772;

"The genius of fine ideas and fancy of Haydn, Ditters and Filtz were praised, but their mixture of serious and comic was disliked, particularly as there is more of the latter than the former in their work, and as for rules, they knew but little of them…"

By the end of 1772, it would become impossible for any knowledgeable critic to write this sort of libel again. Although they did, of course. A battle for another day.

Next time, we look at the breakthrough set of string quartets which also had their genesis in this fabulous year.

Thanks for reading!

1772 – The Year we say 'Farewell' to Sturm und Drang

Memo from Chief of Staff Rahier to the Prince:

Most Serene and Noble Prince of the Holy Roman Empire,

Gracious Prince and Lord!

    I have communicated today to all the musicians by word of mouth your high order of the 8th, that none of the wives and children of the musicians except for the wives of Haydn, Fribert[h], Dichtler, Celini and Tomasini are to be allowed to be seen at Eszterház[a], and there was no one who did not agree to the terms of that high order…
                                                            Eisenstadt, 10 January, 1772…

Oh joy, it's going to be one of those years! This has been building up for a while, with the place overrun with actors, and they being pledged for a long season. Rumor also had it that Nicholas was working on a plan to cut expenses (whatever for?) by reducing extraneous musicians and cutting salaries of the remainder. Most assuredly the house officers would be getting restless before all was said and done!

Each thing in its place; the event which was big news at the time occurred several months before the event which is big today.

This year, instead of the Passer Troupe of actors, the more famous and highly regarded players of Carl Wahr were engaged for the season. Wahr was actually younger than Haydn, but already famous for his acting ability. 'Hanswurst' style playing, largely improvised and downright naughty, was finally passing out of style, at least among followers of the Enlightenment principles. It was the goal of the Habsburgs to raise the reputation of Austria in front of the rest of Europe. Certainly Hanswurst couldn't remain the height of culture, no matter how popular with all ranks of citizenry. Wahr's troupe did serious theater, and high quality to boot. He is considered the pioneer of German Shakespeareans. The Prince was unquestionably delighted with his contract with Wahr; they stayed on until the 1777 season, and in that period Nicholas entertained his most prominent guests. For this one moment in time, he had the finest dramatic actors and the finest musicians in the Holy Roman Empire all assembled in one place. Plenty of reason to show off, which is just what he did!

 

An 18th century opera house in Austria, believed to be Eszterháza

It is amazing how much of the history of this period is actually inferred from such mundane items as delivery receipts and workmen's bills. Blue taffeta and French lace became the costume for one of the singers at the Big Bash. Extra strings for the cembalo and reeds for oboes and bassoons, ditto. So what was the preparation for? As I mentioned earlier, it was big news at the time, although today, one merely says 'huh?'. Eszterháza was about to be visited by Prince Louis de Rohan, envoy to the Court of Vienna from Louis XV. He was important enough in the big scheme of things to be offered such things as theater, ballet and opera, as well as all sorts of musical entertainment by our Prince.

There are, fortunately, some very detailed accounts of the Rohan visit still extant. He arrived on July 12 from Vienna, and like many others he was amazed at the fantastic castle and grounds springing up from the surrounding wilderness. Entertainments began immediately upon arrival, starting with Wahr's group performing Charles Collé's play The Hunting Party of King Henry IV. It was French play, performed in German, thus my English translation. Quite nicely performed too, as it turns out. This was followed by a ballet.

Jean Georges Noverre

I don't know a lot about the history of ballet, in fact, the only name I could pull out of a hat if I had a gun to my head would be Jean Georges Noverre, primarily because of an indirect affiliation with the young Mozart. He was the premier ballet master (and choreographer) of the time. So who else, of course, would Nicholas have brought in for the occasion? He produced his 1771 ballet written for Vienna, The Judgment of Paris, replete with Roman goddesses descending from the clouds and all the associated grandeur. On a more morose note, the fourteen year old sensation of the season in Vienna, Marguerite Delphine, danced to fabulous acclaim. However, she caught a cold while there and died a few days after her return to Vienna. Following the ballet there was the mandatory huge banquet and fireworks in the park, then a hunting party, all followed by a concert by Haydn and the band. Unfortunately the programme was not recorded; no doubt the auditors were uninformed about the proper Hoboken numbers. But wait, that's not all! Following the concert, the Wahr troupe presented another play, an unnamed tragedy this time, this followed by dinner, then a garden party. The park was lit up with torches, and there were booths with refreshments and amusements. In the middle of all this, there was a 'small listening hall' where 'sundry female singers sang only of love'. The day ended with a masked ball held in the beautiful garden clearing. Seriously, that was only Day 1!

The visit went on and on, for three days, each as full of artful presentations and manly activities as the previous one. It should be noted, although you probably already figured it; Haydn's band played all the music for the entire affair, every drama with its overture, entr'acte's and incidental music, the ballet with its own music, the formal concert (probably symphonies) and the singing ladies in the park. The 'small listening hall' in the park was actually populated by the opera singing ladies of the Esterházy troupe, and they sang all of the love arias, happy and sad, from Haydn's operas to date, probably from some other operas too. Thus the blue taffeta and French lace.

On another tack altogether, a different inference drawn from a bill follows here. What it accomplishes though is to put into proper perspective something which occurred later by helping us to date intentions a bit better.

Extract from a bill dated October 22, 1772, from one Joseph Stärzer (not the famous contemporary violinist, the horn repair man).

…for what I did in the way of work for the hunting horn player:

    Two crooks for lowering a half a note……….     1 florin
    Various crook sockets per …………..                   1 florin 30 kr.
                                                             Summa    2 florins 30 kr.

This bill presents us with a load of information if we consider its implications. One can see that if one takes a G horn crook and adds the ½ tone crook, one then has a horn in F#. And if one takes a C horn and adds the crook, one ends up with a horn in B. As we will see, Haydn would compose, before years end, a symphony in B and also one in f#. Thus preparations were already taking place for this event. So, is the tale which follows here, that the 'Farewell' symphony was an overnight project, plausible? I think we can see it was actually longer in the making.

The 'Farewell' symphony. The story of it is probably the most widely known Haydn anecdote, and has been so since only a very few years after it was composed. The stories themselves vary to some degree, but here they are summed up nicely here:

The wives were left behind in Eisenstadt when Haydn and his band of musicians - lusty and vigorous fellows in their prime - annually went to summer from May through October at the Eszterháza estate. Prince Nicholas was right to take pleasure in his fabulous castle with its 126 rooms, with adjoining opera house, outbuilding for the musicians, an inn, a coffee house, and gardens with Chinese pavilion. But when, at the beginning of November 1772, he announced his intention to remain there for another two months, the musicians made known to their Kapellmeister that to further delay their domestic pleasure was to risk a work stoppage. Haydn's solution ("I was young and lusty in those days, too," he remarked) was to compose this symphony-with-a-message: at the end, one by one, the players blow out the candles on their music racks as their part ends, and leave the room. The Prince took the hint: "If they all leave, we must leave too," he said with typically aristocratic understatement , then went to the antechamber to tell his musicians they could expect the necessary carriages the next morning. Thus the appellation Abschiedssymphonie (Farewell Symphony).

As we have already seen, the year began with an order to leave the women and children behind. Over the previous three years, we have also seen the Prince attempting to stretch the season out a bit further each time. There is little doubt the given reason, no room for everyone, was probably true. The 126 rooms included suites for guests, not dormitories for musicians' families! The one aspect which rings a bit false is the usually included one of the musicians complaining to Haydn (very likely) and the next day he produced this symphony, and the next day they all headed home. We have seen from the evidence of the horn crooks, an f# minor symphony was in the offing. Perhaps the idea of the entire having been already composed but not performed, and the finale being modified at the end without wrecking the entire balance is a bit more plausible. Upon consideration, why else would it have been there at all? It takes a substantial motivation to compose something like that!

This only touches the surface of 1772, lots more to come. Did I mention he composed the Opus 20 quartets this year? And even that doesn't finish it off. So next time, we will begin at the end and work our way through the year.

Thanks for reading!

1771 – The Music part 3 - Beyond the familiar

Hob. #	Genre	Key	Opus	No.	Instruments / Notes
11:89	Trio	G	Book 4		Baryton, Violin & Cello
11:90	Trio	C	Book 4		Baryton, Violin & Cello
11:91	Trio	D	Book 4		Baryton, Violin & Cello
11:92	Trio	G	Book 4		Baryton, Viola & Cello
11:93	Trio	C	Book 4		Baryton, Viola & Cello
11:94	Trio	A	Book 4		Baryton, Viola & Cello
11:95	Trio	D	Book 4		Baryton, Viola & Cello
11:96	Trio	b	Book 4		Baryton, Viola & Cello
16:18	Sonata	Bb		20	Keyboard solo
16:20	Sonata	c	fragment	33	Keyboard solo
23b:2	Salve Regina	g		2	Solo voices (S-A-T-B), Solo Organ & Strings

 

Spine of Book IV of the Baryton Trios

24 DIVERT. DEL GIU.[SEPPE] HAYDN   PER IL PARITON COL VIOLA E BASSO TOM. II

24 DIVERTIMENTOS BY JOSEPH HAYDN   FOR THE BARYTON ACCOMPANIED by VIOLA & BASS BOOK 2

The sole survivor. Mysteriously called here "Book II", but certainly Book IV. Published in December 1771, and given, probably, as a birthday gift to the Prince. Amazing that even one of these survived, given the hardships suffered at Eszterháza at the end of World War II, when the castle was occupied by the victorious side and systematically looted and vandalized. This book is in the Hungarian National Library. I am delighted to be able to show you a picture of it, there doesn't appear to be another on the Internet. László Somfai, a major Haydnisto of the 1960's - '90's, says it isn't actually a book, it is a leather-bound box which the manuscript parts were kept in, but when stood on a shelf it looked like a book. It contains all of the parts for the trios Hob 11:73-96.

The latest group, placed (by me) in this year, as circumstances would have it, contains some oddities for the group as a whole. The first one is rather obvious, as we note the second of the two in the entire oeuvre which is in the minor, #96 in b. Both of the minor key works (#87 in a minor) are in this volume, maybe a trend? Possibly it would have been in the event the earlier pace of production had kept up. But as we will see, there will be only one more 'volume' following this one, and it won't reach the production stage until the accumulation has gained critical mass in 1778. However, this is the time when Haydn is using minor keys in some symphonies and his three string quartet opuses of the period have at least one each, as well as do several of the keyboard sonatas, so apparently his interest in minor mode is reflected throughout his work output at the time. As is not uncommon with all composers of the period, the minor mode tended to bring out the extra bit of workmanship when it is employed. Of the twenty-four trios in this volume, these two are among the finest.

So did you spot the anomaly yet in the list? Yes, right at the top, three trios in a row in which the viola is replaced by a violin! A bold experiment, which in the playing places the baryton as an accompanist rather than the top dog. I wonder what Nicholas thought of this. It was never repeated, so probably he just took it as a passing fantasy or an opportunity to be more well-rounded. In any case Haydn took advantage of the idea and wrote three particularly nice trios. Or perhaps they sound particularly nice because they place the melody back in the soprano voice where we are used to hearing it. So you really should seek out these three works. I have yet to see them on any recording save the Esterházy Ensemble's Complete Works for Baryton box, but you never know when there will be a glut with every baryton ensemble trying to hit the market first with their version!

A 1746 cembalo con martelli by Ferrini

Eva Badura-Skoda, wife of world-famous pianist Paul, and brilliant music historian in her own right, has published an essay in David Wyn Jones' book, Music in Eighteenth Century Austria, which gives a challenging new look at received wisdom vis-à-vis the presence of the Hammerflügel in Vienna and its environs at a much earlier date than previously thought, certainly at least as early as 1726! She goes on to give a fascinating but lengthy explanation of why this was so, most of which I won't reference here but will heartily commend to you. What the thrust is for our purposes in deciding which instrument Haydn wrote for was this: when Cristofori invented the hammer action for keyboard, he simply gutted a harpsichord and replaced the parts. Note in the picture how the instrument is still long and slender like a harpsichord rather than wider like a fortepiano. As a direct result of this, he continued to call his new instrument a cembalo (harpsichord), occasionally branching out in his descriptions as far as calling it cembalo con martelli (harpsichord with hammers) or the cembalo col piano e forte (the harpsichord with soft and loud). An underappreciated fact of the time is this: Austria and Italy were far more closely aligned in all ways, especially culturally, than were Austria and the other German-speaking states such as Prussia. So when an Italian invention invaded Austria at the beginning of the 18^th century, they followed the lead of their neighbors and called it a Klavier (keyboard) or a cembalo (a harpsichord). The point of this seemingly off-topic dissertation is this: there was certainly no lack of fortepianos in Greater Vienna even by mid-century, they simply weren't given a special name and so documentation is sparse unless you know what you are looking for. As far as Haydn goes, his works have been divided up into 'fortepiano' and 'pre-fortepiano' mainly on the basis of this sort of documentation ("there is no mention of a fortepiano at Eszterháza…") and perhaps this assumption is off-base. Why would Nicholas, with his cutting edge view of music and the hottest composer in town, limit himself to an already obsolete keyboard instrument? Doesn't add up, does it?

I mentioned last year about the 'Six Progressive Sonatas'. These were not composed as an opus nor is anything tangibly linking them together beyond close stylistic similarities. This year we have another, and the remnants of yet another, Hob 16:18 (#20 in Bb) and the fragment of Hob 16:20 in c minor. I say fragment, but it still requires some clarification as to exactly what the real story is with Hob 16:20. There is one recording available of the fragment itself, the frequently-touted-here Christine Schornsheim box set. It is only 2'20" long, and Schornsheim plays it on a clavichord, undoubtedly the instrument on which it was composed, if not intended for. She says in the liner notes that Haydn simply stopped writing it in the middle of the development section. The entire work was not completed until 1778-9 when it became the 6^th member of the Opus 30 set, dedicated to a pair of sisters he knew from the salon, the Auenbrugger's. Or at least this is what we believe today. The possibility of him finishing the work in 1771 and keeping it for his own use, only to have part of the manuscript get lost or destroyed has never been discounted either. In any case, these six are among Haydn's finest keyboard works, and were very forward looking versus their contemporaries. To get back to the point, these are the earliest keyboard works which actually sound as though they were composed for fortepiano. I say this only after having listened to several performances, on all sorts of instruments, many times over. The frequent answer to this assertion is recounted above, that Haydn didn't have a fortepiano in the 1768-71 time frame. However, I have presented E. Badura-Skoda's documentation, and suggest you listen for yourself. It is an interesting experiment for an early keyboard fan.

The final work we look at for the year was probably also the first work composed in the year, the lovely Salve Regina in g minor, likely composed in gratitude for his recovery from a serious illness. As mentioned earlier, Haydn was a devout believer in Mary as his personal link to God. He composed some Marian Antiphons as well as a Stabat Mater. This antiphon is a four verse work for chorus (actually four soloists who also sing chorus when called upon) and organ. Strings are provided for but apparently optional since the finest version I have (Tafelmusik / Bruno Weil) dispenses with them. Haydn gets his money's worth from the organist in places, we aren't talking continuo here! It is rather certain he wrote this part for himself, and its difficulty is part of his gift of thanks. If, like me, you are a devotee of later 18^th century Austrian church music, this is one of those many smaller pieces which you simply should have.

Next time we will move on to 1772. Haydn's instrumental music reached a pinnacle of sorts in this year, and I think we will really enjoy going over this music.

Thanks for reading!

1771 – The Music part 2 - Let's send the quartet to school

Hob. #	Genre	Key	Opus	New Grove No.	Instruments / Notes
26	Quartet	F	17 #2	17	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
25	Quartet	E	17 #1	18	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
28	Quartet	c	17 #4	19	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
30	Quartet	D	17 #6	20	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
27	Quartet	Eb	17 #3	21	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
29	Quartet	G	17 #5	22	2 Violins, Viola & Cello

Haydn conducting a string quartet

I like this picture; it is probably a 19^th century fantasy, yet its message is congruent with my own thoughts. It alleges to be an engraving (by one 'Schmid') of Haydn 'conducting' a quartet playing his music. The concept of him writing these works for his own enjoyment, to play with his companions, is too compelling for me to abandon for anything short of documented proof otherwise. Speaking here of just the early works, naturally. Next year, he will make the tragic mistake of composing Opus 20 and then the cat's out of the bag, now everyone wants to play them!

Like with Hamlet, for Haydn the play was the thing. He may not have been trying to catch the conscience of the King, but playing with companions had been a more than adequate reason since the time of the extended house party at Baron Fürnberg's Schloss. In the intervening years leading up to Opus 9, his music underwent some major changes, and so did the quartet genre for that matter. Others had taken his lead and were producing 'modern' quartets which were becoming immensely popular in Vienna and as far off as Paris, where his early works were still being printed and making money, although not a centime for him, of course!

In trying to understand why Haydn would return to writing quartets with no compulsion to do so, I propose that the question begets the answer: he was under no compulsion to do so! He saw the possibilities of the design and the framework built earlier, needed a medium through which he could develop his art, and chose the quartet specifically because the Prince had absolutely no interest in it. There is no documentation of Nicholas ever having uttered the word, much less commissioned a set. In the period when Haydn was going through a complete review of his art, and studying music as though he was a novice, what better choice than the string quartet? The timing was ideal. If, in fact, he finished his 'Complete Course in Composition' as he told Antonin Reicha, around his fortieth birthday, in 1772, then he certainly began it earlier. Placing that date in 1769, the year he also began Opus 9, makes a culmination in 1772, the year of his greatest dramatic symphonies (45-47) and the Opus 20 quartets, not only plausible but too great of a circumstantial probability to be dismissed out of hand. It is so much better than a 'Romantic Crisis', the totally lame idea we inherited from the early 20^th century! *Disclaimer* I haven't read anything in support of this concept, so you will want to keep it as something to think about rather than present it as a fact. Neither, will I say, have I read anything which would invalidate a single item presented. A scientist would call that bad science since there is nothing to prove or disprove. However, I like it, so I can at least present it for your consideration.

Which moves us ahead to Opus 17. Writers have tended to make Opp. 9 & 17 a continuous group, and indeed it is difficult to separate them, they are a solid progression, rather in support of the picture of a man improving as he goes. The connections between the two are impossible to avoid, really, since they were completed only a year apart. It is the structure which betrays their common origin. Of the twelve, ten have a sonata form first movement, two have a theme and variations opening. One in each opus. All twelve have a minuet and trio second movement. All twelve have either an Adagio or Largo third movement, all twelve have a finale which is either Presto or Allegro (di molto). Returning to the first movement, each opus has four openings which are Moderato, one each is Presto, the remaining two are Andante moderato and Poco adagio. Key similarities also exist, beginning with one minor key work and five major keys in each opus. As the King of Siam would say ; etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

So what is this saying to us? Perhaps it is a lack of imagination? Ha! OK, not that, but what then? My own thought is that he was building a structural norm by repetition. Grave and Grave say he was composing each opus in an attempt to correct or update the flaws which he perceived in his earlier works. Thus Opus 9 is a response to Opus 1 & 2, and Opus 17 a response to Opus 9. And while this makes perfect sense, on the other hand, doesn't every artist attempt to improve on what he has done previously? So how does this make Haydn different? I don't think it does. I think if Opus 17 did not improve on bits and pieces of its predecessor, then he may have been in the wrong line of work. Again, I believe that he was consciously attempting to create a standard form for the genre. This is not a bit outré. It is what artists do, and no one was more conscious of his art than was Haydn!

If these works are viewed as workshop projects, the problem being worked on is the same which beset all composers of the time; how does one balance out the work so as to shift emphasis from a powerful beginning towards where it should properly be? Would we not prefer to have the climax at the end rather than the beginning? But we don't want to lose the great beginning either, else we lose the listeners' attention before we've fairly begun. You can judge for yourself his success with this aspect by listening to the music. Landon or Grave or many others can explain the how's and whys to you if you are so inclined, but you can hear the result for yourself. One thing about Opus 17; it has been overshadowed for many years now by its successors, and this is because of our tendency to compare early works to their later, evolved forms. Hard to see any element of fairness in that! However, neither Opus 9 nor 17 need take a back seat. If you compare them to contemporaneous works by other composers, suddenly their superiority becomes clear. Which is the only fair test, isn't it?

Next time, a little more chamber music. One can't help but like that!

Thanks for reading!

1771 – The Music part 1 - Know me by my symphony

Hob	Key	NC	HRL	Instruments
52	c	52	50	2 Oboes, Bassoon, 2 Horns & Strings Horns in C alto, C basso
42	D	53	52	2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns & Strings

In this year of quiet living, his last one for perhaps the next thirty years, there was no real shortage of things for Haydn to do. Among those were the composition of two memorable symphonies, with one of them, the c minor, having been called one of the premier works of the era of dramatic symphonies. And also called just the opposite!

Now firmly ensconced in its position as the actual number 52, this one has bounced around on the dating front for quite some time. For a while it was considered to be the last of the 'Sturm und Drang' works, but scholarship has now placed it earlier than some true gems like #45-47, none of which will show up until next year. In addition to being placed in the dramatic category, this is likely to be the c minor symphony which Carpani later described as being a church symphony. There are only two to choose from, and #78 from 1782 has a better documented history, and the tone isn't suitable for church, even in light-hearted Vienna!

As the dating of #52 bounces around, so does the reception in the 21^st century (really, just a holdover of the 20^th century in this case). We come again, for different reasons, to the point where generally, the musicologists aren't too pleased with this work, yet it is very popular by all accounts. As it should be. The opening movement is very spacious, leading out with a mysterious-sounding unison by the band, then moving into a second idea which plays out mainly in the strings. This movement uses the horns in C alto, with nice results as they always seem to soar above the rest. The entire movement has an interesting orchestral sound which is both full and yet transparent. This is yet another argument in favor of period instrument ensembles using a reasonable approximation of the proper number of players for which it was composed. The second movement has been described as characterless by those who know more than I do about such things. I find it to be a nice contrast to the high-energy of the opening. It has abrupt changes of pace, then back again which give the whole a large scale sense of rhythmic disruption. Again we are mainly being carried along by the strings, staying much in the lower registers, but occasional and surprising outbursts from the winds keep things moving along nicely. Here we see the hornists have switched to the C basso crooks, and they underlie much of the movement with the tonal color of the horns blended into the bass line. Landon describes the movement as a 'stately Spanish Dance', and overall it seems to evoke that atmosphere.

The 'leaden' minuet, 'one of the worst he ever wrote', to quote the experts, is none of those things, really. As always with Haydn, it makes much of little. The horns in C basso remain, and we have the minuet proper presenting a discussion between them and the violins. The second half presents a series of off-beat figures (forzati for those of you who know more than I do about such things) which in turn make up the main figure of the trio. From there we are back to the Finale: Presto. The nervous-sounding violins leading the way with the winds hanging on, until midway when the horns (in C alto again) take over. It is a fine ride and a suitable ending for a very good symphony. To get back to the earlier theme of the musicologists, the main complaint seems to be virtually identical to what we heard back with #39, that the outer movements and the inner movements are too different. They say different in quality, but I don't buy that. They are different in mood, and so they present a big contrast. #39 is very dramatic in its outer movements and very galant in its inner ones. #52 doesn't turn to galant for its stylistic inspiration, but it does seem to abandon Sturm und Drang altogether, and perhaps this is the source of consternation. Where the irony lies for me, the same people present the contemporaneous German critics as being out of touch (to put it nicely) with what Haydn was doing, but the way I read their writings, the modern 'critics' follow in their footsteps. Maybe it's a brotherhood thing... In any case, this is a work you should listen to and decide for yourself. I predict you will like it just fine!

It is unlikely we will have such a difference of opinion with our other 1771 symphony, #42 in D major. The opening movement starts out like an opera aria with the violins presenting the opportunity (acciaccatura) and the entire band taking off with a songlike melody, with the 'singing' gaining elaborateness as it goes along. All this at a very brisk pace, I might add. Landon calls it a sort of musical joke, and it seems to be, rather like the instruments mocking singers for the things they can/can't do. The overall brilliance of the entire movement is due to the choice of key. D major is the 'best key' for violins and many wind instruments too. Haydn exploits the fact to great effect. The entire first movement is imbued with bright tone color. This is a movement which could have been the overture to an Italian opera buffa, and perhaps the composition of Le pescatrici the previous year had taught Haydn something. There is absolutely no element of formal stiffness in this work anywhere, most certainly not in the opening movement! It is relaxed and humorous, using opportunities as they arise to give a great buffa feel to the music. A close listen will show you, this is a breakthrough sort of movement which will open doors to later works.

The second movement, Andantino e cantabile, has a beautiful melody carried mainly in the strings, with just a touch of winds here and there to add some interesting tone color. It sounds like an old song we all should know, but it is actually original music composed after older models. Haydn has learned how to write music that evokes other music to the point where the listener feels comfortable with it. This is the famous movement where he crossed out several measures in the autograph and wrote in the margin "for too learned ears". And that is just the thing, he was trying for music we would like and be comfortable with, and certainly he succeeded here. In contrast, the minuet is damned near jolly! It is led by the horns in this case, being mainly for winds. Which leads to the trio, where the lead is taken over by the violins. And what are they playing? Wind parts! Trumpet calls and trills played by the violins make up the main theme, and then we are back to the minuet proper. It is a lovely bit of nonsense, overall one of Haydn's finer efforts in the minuet department.

The Finale has its own brand of humor. As described by Gretchen Wheelock in her brilliant book, Haydn's Ingenious Jesting With Art (pg. 126):

Symphonies 42, 46 & 66 are the only finales [actually] marked Scherzando…. Scherzando is more than a performance direction: audible in each [of these finales] are surprising interruptions and miscontinuations, reversals that frustrate closure, the stasis of repeating fragments seemingly lost in time, and the recasting of thematic materials in unexpected settings.

Along with a host of other elements, these things are typical of Haydn's style, not just at the turn of the decade but well before this time and for a long time afterward. For me, when I listen to this movement, every time I think I know where it's going, it goes somewhere else. This is the height of entertainment, in my opinion. I strongly commend this work to your close attention. Jettison your received knowledge of S & D and listen with fresh ears. I think what you hear will be overtones of the future!

Next time we will take a look at the Opus 17 quartets. Replete with their own brand of moving forward.

Thanks for reading!

1771 - The Year the Cyclops came, oboe in hand

The inside of the dome of the Basilica of Maria Treu, Vienna

As years go, 1771 was a quiet one. At least by Haydn's standards. The Prince was in Vienna for much of the year, and consequently things on the home front weren't nearly as hectic as in 1770, for example.

The year began with a recovery from whatever illness had struck at the end of 1770, and Haydn began by keeping his promise to write a hymn of thanks. The lovely Salve Regina in g minor was the result. With an organ part for himself to play, he made it especially challenging, presumably to be a praiseful act in itself. As we will see at the proper time, it is an especially nice work, worthy of the promise he made to write one.

Among the accounts for the year, we see one which goes along with last year, and especially with next year. The Passer Troupe of performers was rehired for the season. As I mentioned previously, last year their seasonal contract was extended to October 15. This year they negotiated to have it shortened to the 10^th, but that effort was a failure. Nicholas was going to stay in Eszterháza as long as he could, and he was going to have his amusements while he was there! At least the players had their wives; the musicians did not!

The church as it appeared then, without steeples

One of the highlights of the year came on Good Friday. Haydn went to Vienna, and in the Piarist Order's Basilica of Maria Treu, a beautiful Baroque church, he conducted his Stabat Mater in front of a large audience. The church is still known for its acoustics, and throughout its history has been a performance center for religious music including that of Anton Bruckner, but long before then, it also saw the world premiere of Haydn's Missa in Tempore Belli (Mass in Time of War - Hob 23:9 of 1796). This is the first documented occasion where Haydn had his way concerning orchestral and choral forces for one of his large choral works. There were 60 musicians playing, which for Vienna in 1771 was huge for anything outside of the Tonkünstler-Societät annual benefit concerts. There was reported to be a very large congregation in the audience. As you recall, for Good Friday 1768, Haydn had begged leave to take the main singers to Vienna and to conduct a performance of this same work at the Church of the Brothers of Mercy, where he had been employed in the mid-1750's, for the benefit of the composer Hasse. So despite being buried in the wilderness, he still managed to have this major work performed twice under his direction in front of people who counted in the music business!

Sometimes things also work out in a timely way in civilian life too. When Haydn's house burned down in 1768, the Prince paid for its reconstruction. However, this didn't cover the cost of replacing the furniture and all of their household belongings, and by 1771, the Haydn's were in debt for a fair amount. The paperwork still exists in the archives of Haydn's request (granted) to borrow 400 gulden to help him repay all this. A few short weeks later, a ten year old inheritance came along to bail him out! When Prince Paul Anton, Nicholas' brother, died in 1762, his will left a year's pay to each of the 'house officers', which included the musicians. It only took ten years to get through probate, and finally Haydn got his legacy.

Oh, and the drama! If you recall from the original contract, it was Haydn's job to keep the peace among the musicians. He was unable to prevent the following from taking place, but he did intercede to clean up the mess as well as possible:

[Contract between Zacharius Pohl and Xavier Marteau in Haydn's presence [in German]

This day on the date and year recorded below is herewith set down and agreed the following settlement and contract between the Princely Esterházy oboist, Zacharias Pohl, and the Princely Esterházy bass-player (note: 'Bassetist' = Cellist), Xavier Marteau, because of the scandalous brawl between them which occurred on the 23rd of the previous month of June in the Eszterházy Castle Tavern, whereby Zacharias Pohl lost his right eye; to wit:

Whereas, according to the statements of both parties and various witnesses, it may be surmised that Xavier Marteau did not purposely intend to inflict this damage with his ring on the eye of Zacharias Pohl, but on the other hand, Zacharias Pohl is not entirely guiltless, both parties have therefore agreed, in the presence of Herr Kapellmeister Hayden [sic], to the following settlement: that Xavier Marteau shall recompense Zacharias Pohl for the costs of the cure and trip arising from the above-mentioned damage, in the amount of forty-nine Gulden 13 Kreutzer, within six months, at the rate of 8 Gulden 17 1/6 Kr. per month, of which the first 8 Fl. 17 1/6 Kr. are to be paid on the first of January 1772; but Zacharias Pohl, because of the indemnification here given him as a result of the damage to his eye, shall not and cannot demand anything [additional] at any time from Xavier Marteau.

As witness thereto both parties have set their hands and their customary seals,

Eisenstadt, the 21st of December 1771.

L.s. Zacharias Pohl, hochfürstlicher Hautboist.

L.s. Xavier Marteau, hochfürstlicher Bassetist

In my presence: Josephus Haydn - Hochfürstlicher Kapellmeister L.s.

(From The Collected Correspondence and London Notebooks of Joseph Haydn by H.C Robbins-Landon)

And you thought being Kapellmeister was easy!

In addition to this bit of jurisprudence, December 22 also saw the publication of Book 4 of the baryton trios. We know a bit more about this one because it is the sole survivor of the ravages of time. These twenty-four trios bring the total to ninety-six! Even though the output had slowed a bit, that is still nearly one hundred works in five years! The final volume was still six years away, and would only bring the final total to 126, still a huge oeuvre for any composer to have invested with the quality which these possess!

On that note, we leave the context-building and move ahead to the music. Next time we will start on the symphonies. Until then, happy listening and…

Thanks for reading!