1773 – The Music part 2 - Out in public at last!

Hob. #	Genre	Key	No.	Instruments / Notes
16:33	Sonata	D	34	Solo Keyboard
16:21	Sonata	C	36	Solo Keyboard
16:22	Sonata	E	37	Solo Keyboard
16:23	Sonata	F	38	Solo Keyboard
16:24	Sonata	D	39	Solo Keyboard
16:25	Sonata	Eb	40	Solo Keyboard
16:26	Sonata	A	41	Solo Keyboard

 

Title Page of 1774 Kurzböck edition of Haydn's 'Esterházy Sonatas'

Along with the various other compositions of this year, we suddenly find keyboard sonatas again, and in semi-profusion, too! Not only the occasional solitary work such as we see all too rarely from Haydn. But the first actual set of six, something we have come to expect in other genres but which has so far been missing (as far as we know) from the solo keyboard works.

As in the symphonic genre, Haydn also moved along from his Sturm und Drang period in keyboard works. Notice we have neither minor key works nor an abundance of sharps or flats among the seven of this year, nor, as you can easily hear, do we have the dramatic tension of the works of the recent past. What we do have, though, is highly entertaining and interesting music, written for very talented amateurs, in all likelihood young ladies. We also see the awareness on the part of the composer of the gradual shift in instruments which was taking place in post-1770 Vienna, and the new emphasis on dynamics made possible by the fortepiano.

Hob. 16:33 (Landon 34) in D is the outrider in this group. As is typical with these rare singletons, we don't really know why he composed it. There is no dedication and it was first 'officially' published in London in 1783 by Beardmore & Birchall without Haydn's knowledge (of course), but copies had been circulating for several years. There isn't much information available to share with you short of the sort of analysis which I make every effort to avoid, so no discussion of broken triads and arpeggios and Alberti bass here, even though they are all present in the first movement. Tom Beghin classifies this as one of Haydn's 'workshop sonatas' and performs it on the clavichord, as Haydn would have probably done. There are a couple of features which make this a probable assertion, even though Beghin doesn't say what they are. The first is something unusual for the time period; at the end of the second movement, there is no fermata (the stop sign at the end of a movement), and the music continues right on into the third movement. This procedure, called attacca, was not at all common in 1773, although it quite caught on in the 19^th century. The second workshop feature is the fact the third movement is a set of double variations, something which would become one of Haydn's favorite forms. In a double variation, there are two themes and they are varied alternately, the first theme in the major mode, the second in minor. Haydn didn't invent this form (contrary to popular belief), but he developed it far beyond its origins into a major component of variations in the 19^th century. So beyond doubt, this wonderful little sonata served purposes far beyond entertaining me, if there can be such things!

As we have seen, the Prince held the reins when it came to whether Haydn's music 'officially' got out into the public or whether it stayed locked in the conservatory. In this year, Haydn wrote a set of six sonatas which would be officially published next year. Since it isn't documented, one wonders at the circumstances surrounding this sudden break from tradition. Did Haydn say 'Oh please, Sire, I'll dedicate them to you!'? Or did the Prince approach Haydn and make the offer, perhaps to allow once again an opportunity to broadcast the talents of his Kapellmeister? I rather suspect it was some sort of combination of these two things. Haydn wanted to have some works published which he could feel were legitimate representations of his art. There is no doubt these were conceived and composed as a set. The first three are written consecutively in the same manuscript, and the key signatures run up the scale from a basic C major to a spicy A major. As we have seen, Haydn had a few sonatas already stashed away from the late '760's and early '770's, yet he chose to not use those, but to write out this set from scratch. Why? I have a few ideas; you may do, also. Primarily, the sonatas of his previous style phase were, as we have seen, very much composed for Kenner, educated musicians. This was the period, recall, when he scratched out several measures of the Andantino e cantabile of Symphony #42 because it was "for too learned ears". This shows beyond doubt his awareness of who his potential audience was and what they expected.

So, who was his potential audience for a set of sonatas? Without doubt, it was the Liebhaber, the skilled amateur music-lovers who were going to purchase this music and bring it home to learn and play for their friends. No professional musician was going to play them, he would be expected to write his own sonatas. He might play them through for ideas, but otherwise, not so much. But the skilled amateur would delight in these works, she would eagerly show off her skills with le dernier cri and learn something new besides. For no mistake, these were not the easiest sonatas on the block to play, which is one of the reasons they were so popularly received and so influential. These works were composed in 1773 but not published until 1774, where they became one of the very first sets of works actually published in Vienna! At the time there were less than a dozen other works which had this distinction, because music publishing was just beginning to move into the city after thriving for so long in Paris, London and Amsterdam. The Kurzböck firm did the honor, one of their original prints is featured above. It is believed that the Prince paid the publishing fees, making this a 'vanity press' situation. But if, as was the norm in those days, Haydn sold the rights to Kurzböck, then a fortune was made, and not by Haydn, since this turned out to be a long time bestseller for them.

What are the strong points of these works as a group, then? Christine Schornsheim, in the liner notes for her complete cycle, talks about the slow movements of the first four sonatas, and indeed, the depth of these movements proves yet again where Haydn's strength lay. It is not unusual in sonatas of this period for the musicality to be concentrated in either a brilliant opening or a virtuosic finale. Haydn never throws away a slow movement. Taken on their own merits, these three Adagios and an Andante are everything a pianist would hope for; emotional, involved, intricate, yet playable, in short, well-judged by the composer for the audience he hoped to gain. The last two inner movements, in Tempo di Menuet, are another opportunity for the player to showcase her talent. Number 5 is a surprisingly canonic counterpoint fest. I say surprisingly because it is just that; in 1774 the modern galant keyboard sonata just wasn't inclined in that direction. Haydn was, as usual, taking forms from previous times and fitting them in to modern music. Number 6, in A, shows just how fond Haydn was of his brilliant creation of 1772; the Menuet al Roverso of Symphony #47 makes its return, bumped up from G major to A major, but otherwise intact. Outside of his Baryton Trios, which he used to encore especially favorite movements for the Prince to play, it is quite unusual for Haydn to reuse movement like this.

There are plenty of other places in these works which are easy to love. Both the opening Allegro and the closing Presto of the D major sonata are a handful for any pianist! Don't be fooled by the trolling musicologist who derides the works intended for amateurs, or are early in the series of works, or are of a more popular style. A disk of these, whether played on clavichord, harpsichord or fortepiano (any of the three is suitably authentic here) will provide many happy listening opportunities for you. Have a listen and see what I mean. Next time we will look at the first of our two operas for the year, hope you are able to listen along.

Thanks for reading!