Haydn Seek

1787 – The Music part 2 – The long winding path of Opus 50; part 1

Hob. #	Genre	Key	No.*	Instrument(s)
3:44	Quartet	Bb	36	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
3:45	Quartet	C	37	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
3:46	Quartet	Eb	38	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
3:47	Quartet	f#	39	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
3:48	Quartet	F	40	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
3:49	Quartet	D	41	2 Violins, Viola & Cello
			* = indicates probable order of composition

 

Original Artaria Opus 50 Title Page - (Courtesy James Boyd Editions)

In the opening essay of 1787, I called this 'Haydn's Golden Age', and also introduced the idea of Haydn having reached the top of a sort of plateau. This entire concept more or less flies in the face of received tradition, which is far more along the lines of a ladder, ever upward. There are a few astute historians, such as Donald Tovey, who recognized early on how the received model simply wasn't congruent with the situation 'on the ground'. Thus, throughout the 19^th century and most of the 20^th, it was taken as a given that Haydn's Opus 76 and 77 were the top rung of his personal ladder, and everything before then was lower rung material. The same is true with every other genre; I personally know a great many people who, despite being very familiar with everything Haydn wrote from London until the end, don't even exhibit any curiosity about the 'other stuff'. Up until now, and as recently as my look at Opus 33, we were able to enumerate advances which Haydn made, similar in many ways to the rungs-on-a-ladder analogy. But with Opus 50, the mature Haydn, the true creative artist who was a complete master of his craft, has given us something which is different from everything else, and each work, however well nested together, is a unique version of his artistic vision. If you are a musical analyst, which I am decidedly not, I wish you good luck in putting these works into some clever little one-size-fits-all box!

First 3 measures of Opus 50 #1

I count myself among the fortunate souls who discovered the worth of Haydn's earlier works all on my own. My first Haydn string quartet CD was Opus 76 #'s 1-3, and it was love at first play. If you could wear a CD out, I would have done with that one! But then I got a few other disks in fairly rapid order, and one of them, on about the third hearing, finally broke through and made an impression on me which eventually supplanted the d minor wonder which is Opus 76 #2. It starts out with the cello, playing all alone… dun-dun-dun-dun… dun-dun-dun-dun… which is, of course, the ostinato opening to Opus 50 #1, still, these many years later, my favorite quartet.

In the event, these works were short in the writing, but long in the making. The gestation period stretches back at least to here:

 

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. in German]

Estoras, 5th April 1784.

Nobly born, Most highly respected Sir !

Although I have always received more than 100 ducats for my quartets by subscription, and although Herr Willmann promised to give me this sum, I agree to your offer of 300 fl. with following stipulations; first, that you are patient until July, though all six should be finished by then; secondly, I demand either 12 copies or my choice of the dedication. If this proposal is agreeable to you, I shall await your draft of a contract….

[snip]

Your most obedient servant,

Joseph Haydn

(H.C. Robbins-Landon – The Collected Correspondence and London Notebooks of Joseph Haydn 1959 pg. 45)

 

Friedrich Wilhelm II - King of Prussia

We think, at least, we know something about Mozart's composition methods, since he allegedly told a friend how he works out the entire composition in his head and carries it around there until he finally needs to write it down. Whether this is true or not, it seems unlikely Haydn did the same. So he probably didn't have any idea in 1784 what would finally go down on paper in 1787.

A lot of music passed under the bridge between 1784 and 1787 too. And not just his own, which we have already looked at. 1785, for example, saw the completion of Mozart's 'Six Quartets Dedicated to Haydn'. Probably the best symbolic comparison is the 'Paris' Symphonies, which premiered in Paris while the present works were being composed. In terms of historic stature and contributions to the genre, the six symphonies and the six quartets were easily equivalent, but in musical character they are worlds apart. It would be fair to say the symphonies are a reflection of our perception of the City they were dedicated to, an evocation of magical Paris, as it was thought of then and now. The quartets, on the other hand, don't appear to aspire to brilliance or wit, despite being imbued with both, but they bring the genre itself one step closer towards the concept of the string quartet as the Supreme Being of music.

In the letter above, we see where Haydn "demand(s) either 12 copies or my choice of the dedication". Three years on, he hasn't forgot this stipulation. Of course, in 1784 he didn't know who it would be yet, but he had become aware of the value of a dedication and wanted some of it. The nice thing for us is the great amount of documentation which still exists concerning this opus. I published a couple of letters already, such as this one which prompted the dedication:

[To HAYDN FROM FRIEDRICH WILHELM II, KING OF PRUSSIA. (in German)]

His Majesty, King of Prussia, &c., &c. is sensible of the mark of respect which Herr Kapellmeister Haydn, in sending him six new Symphonies*, again wishes to show to His Serene Majesty. They have especially pleased him, and there is no doubt that His Highness has always appreciated Herr Kapellmeister Haydn's works, and will appreciate them at all times. To provide concrete assurance of the same, he sends him the enclosed ring as a mark of His Highness' satisfaction and of the favor in which he holds him.

F Wilhelm

Potsdam, 21st April 1787

[*These are, once again, the 'Paris' Symphonies]

[enclosed is a large gold ring]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. German]

Estoras, 19^th May 1787.

Most worthy friend !

This is to inform you that I have already finished the 4th Quartet, and will certainly send it next Friday. Now here is something important I have to tell you: you know that I received a beautiful ring from His Majesty, the King of Prussia. I feel deeply in His Majesty's debt because of this present, and for my part I can think of no better and more fitting way to show my thankfulness to His Majesty (and also in the eyes of the whole world) than by dedicating these 6 Quartets to him; but you won't be satisfied with that, because you will want to dedicate the works yourself, and to someone else. But to make amends for this loss, I promise to give you other pieces free of charge. Let me know what you have to say to this. Perhaps we can both be satisfied. In haste,

Your most obedient

Joseph Haydn.

So on this basis, as of late May, 1787, these became 'The Prussian Quartets'. But of course, as we see, the first four were already written by then (this is one of the few opuses in which the numbering is accurate). Friedrich Wilhelm was very well known as a cellist. Generally, works of this type, dedicated to him, such as Mozart's three string quartets of 1790, lean heavily on the cello part, so as to give him more of a featured role. But in this set, people have searched in vain for anything more than Haydn's usual effort to give the cello its own voice. Here is at least part of the reason; much of the work was done before the dedication came about!

On the shoulders of the readily available information on these works, it would be easy to turn this little essay into a mini-series, but I really don't want to. It is already a rare enough thing for me to make two essays out of one topic, but one can scarcely tell the story at one sitting. Opus 50 is already one of the few sets of works which has a book written about it, and which I heartily commend to you either at your local library or, if you are inclined to have your own, it will make a worthwhile purchase. But this book, like others which refer to this opus; e.g. – The String Quartets of Joseph Haydn by Floyd and Margaret Grave, or the various biographies, only mention the correspondence of Haydn and his publishers in a tangential way, such as it bolsters their own arguments. One thing you will learn, if structure and analysis are important to you, is that these works completely resist generalization, they present a great variety of different floor plans, so to speak, and no easy challenge for the analyst. On Haydn's part, there are some controversial actions related to this opus, ones which any complete picture of Haydn would be remiss in the extreme to simply overlook. I intend here to print the relevant parts of some letters and make some illuminating notes on them, but in a non-judgmental sort of way. The cultural changes of the last 230 years have rendered moot and meaningless any sort of 21^st century moral application we could wish to make, so the best possible course is to read what happens and take it as a reason why things had to change and have changed. First, though, let's look at the elements of the works. Look! One of them even has a name!

Work	1st mvmt Tempo / Key / Meter	2nd mvmt Tempo / Key / Meter	3rd mvmt Tempo / Key / Meter	4th mvmt Tempo / Key / Meter
Op 50 #1	Allegro in Bb 2/2	Adagio non lento in Eb 6/8	Poco allegretto in Bb 3/4	Finale: Vivace in Bb 2/4
Op 50 #2	Vivace in C 3/4	Adagio cantabile in F 4/4	Menuetto: Allegretto in C 3/4	Finale: Vivace assai in C 2/4
Op 50 #3	Allegro con brio in Eb 6/8	Andante più tosto allegretto in Bb 2/4	Menuetto: Allegretto in Eb 3/4	Finale: Presto in Eb 2/4
Op 50 #4	Allegro spirituoso in f# & F# 3/4	Andante in A 2/4	Menuetto: Poco allegretto & Trio in F# & f# 3/4	Fuga: Allegro moderato in f# 6/8
Op 50 #5	Allegro moderato in F 2/4	Poco adagio in Bb 3/4	Menuetto: Allegretto & Trio in F & f 3/4	Finale: Vivace in F 6/8
Op 50 #6 'The Frog'	Allegro in D 4/4	Poco adagio in d – D 6/8	Menuetto: Allegretto in D 3/4	Finale: Allegro con spirito in D 2/4

It is surprising with a composer as well known and generally liked as Haydn, for a set of works from his prime to be so rarely recorded. At this writing, there are only two complete sets on period instruments, and few enough others on modern instruments to beg the question; 'why is that?'. Going back to my opening paragraph concerning the popularity of Opus 76 & 77, one can add to those Opus 33, which enjoys a well-deserved good reputation, and which has always been touted by musicologists since the 19^th century as 'the beginning of the Classic Era'. Which is a mythical endpoint to a mythical construct, but still, Haydn's sales pitch from 1781, 'written in a new and special way', still rings the bell today, it seems. But this overlooking of one of the Crown Jewels does no service to the listener, and little to the player, for that matter. I understand a new set will be introduced very soon (today is the last of May, 2015), and when it appears, if this music is still a stranger to you, do yourself a great favor and pick up a copy. You will thank me later.

In Part 2 (click here), we will look at the seamy underside of musical publishing in 1787. You will come away with a different appreciation for copyright laws after this tale is told!

 

Thanks for reading!

1787 – The Music part 1 - Symphonies in an Enlightened Age

Hob I:	Key	NC	HRL	Instruments
88	G	90	90	Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani & Strings
89	F	91	91	Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns & Strings
(Hoboken catalog N°s.)		(New Chronology / Gerlach N°s.)	(Robbins-Landon N°s.)

 

A hot air balloon in Venice - Francesco Guardi 1784

Two symphonies start off this year, and in typical Haydnish fashion, it is damnably difficult to untangle their origins, not least because of Johann Tost. If you have followed Haydn at all, you have heard of Tost, 'dedicatee' of all sorts of quartets and the occasional symphony in the '80's, but chances are, everything you know is wrong, just as it was in my case. In a world where everything is questionable and questioned, it seems as though everything Tost said back then is taken as true, despite the clear cases where he was plainly lying. I wonder how that happens.

Musicologist Joseph Braunstein, supported by his usual wealth of detail, has suggested that perhaps Tost was a wheeler-dealer of the first water. Tost, who entered the service of Haydn's patron, Prince Esterházy, as a violinist in 1783, was certainly entrusted by Haydn with the mission of selling symphonies 88 and 89 in Paris. There,  Haydn hoped to continue the success of his previous 'Paris' symphonies. There is little or no documentation going back further than this and showing us the when and why. The problem for us today lies in the variations of the story, which range from 'Tost sold them for Haydn as his agent', to 'Haydn wrote them for and dedicated them to' Tost, to as far as 'Tost commissioned them'. Going strictly by what there is evidence for, I would postulate this; Tost told Haydn he was taking a trip to Paris and offered to represent Haydn to Sieber, a publisher there who was already known to Haydn, and when he returned he would turn over to Haydn the money for the works Haydn had sent. Haydn then quickly composed two symphonies and sent Tost on his way. Sieber paid 300 gulden for the works, of which Haydn got nothing. Like every other scenario I have seen, this lacks the sort of documentation which directly tells the story, but what it has going for it is logic and reasonable human behavior. I like it!

In the event, Tost accomplished the sale. But he also accomplished passing off a symphony in G major by Adalbert Gyrowetz as a work by Haydn, causing Gyrowetz no little embarrassment when he later came to Paris and nobody would believe that this 'Haydn' work was his own. There is a lot more to the Tost story, but since it deals mainly with string quartets, I will leave it for a future installment. For our purposes here, though, it is well over a year later before we get any documentation concerning the history of the present symphonies, and so we have to jump the temporal rails a bit and look ahead to 1788 & '89, where we see this discussion going on between Haydn, Artaria and Sieber (the footnotes to the letters are Landon's, reflecting what was known in 1958):

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA, in German]

Estoras, 22^nd September 1788

Monsieur, et mon tres cher Amy!

A few days ago I was told that you, my dear Sir, were supposed to have purchased from Herr Tost* my very newest 6 Quartets and 2 new Symphonies. Since I would like to know, for various reasons, if this is true or not, I would ask you to let me know on the next post-day.

I remain, Sir, most respectfully,

Your most obedient servant,

Josephus Haydn

*JOHANN TOST, violinist in the Esterházy band, who went on a journey to Paris about this time, taking with him the 6 Quartets Op. 54 and 55, and two new Symphonies, Nos. 88 and 89. Tost, when he returned to Vienna in 1789 or 1790, married a rich wife and became a well-known merchant (Grosshandlungs-Gremialist) and patron of chamber music.

[To JEAN-GEORGES SIEBER, PARIS, in German]

Estoras, 5^th April 1789

Monsieur!

I am very surprised not to have received a letter from you, because (as Herr Tost wrote to me a long time ago) you are supposed to have purchased 4 Symphonies and 6 pianoforte Sonatas for one hundred Louis d'or: as far as I am concerned, I regret being bound to Herr Tost for the 4 Symphonies, because he still owes me 300f [Gulden] for the 4 pieces. If you will take over this debt of 300f, I guarantee to compose these four Symphonies for you; but Herr Tost has no rights at all to the six pianoforte Sonatas (trios?), and has thus swindled you; you can claim your damages in Vienna. Now I would ask you to tell me candidly just how, and in what fashion, Herr Tost behaved in Paris. Did he have an Amour there? And did he also sell you the 6 Quartets, and for what sum? Please let me know all this as soon as possible. Meanwhile I remain, most respectfully,

Your wholly obedient servant,

Josephus Haydn

[Landon] With this letter the affaire Tost, to which Haydn had previously referred in a letter to Artaria becomes even more mysterious. Tost had with him Symphonies Nos. 88, 89 and six Quartets (known as Op. 54 and 55). Haydn never denied Tost's rights to these works, and obviously expected Tost to sell them, as the end of the present letter shows. But how the two symphonies suddenly became four is most unclear. Perhaps Haydn intended to write two more for Tost. In 1788 and 1789, Haydn did in fact compose three new Symphonies (Nos. 90-92), but he dedicated them to the Comte d'Ogny in Paris, and they were patently intended for the Concert de la Loge Olympique, for which he had written the 'Paris Symphonies. The affaire Tost is further complicated by the fact that Tost seems to have sold Sieber a Gyrowetz Symphony under Haydn's name (Symphony in G: see Larsen, p. 115).

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. In German]

Estoras, 5th July 1789.

Well born, Most highly respected Sir !

[snip – subjects for the future!]

Now I would like to know the truth about something: that is, from whom you procured the 2 new Symphonies which you recently announced, whether you purchased them from Herr Tost or whether you got them already engraved from Herr Sieber in Paris. If you purchased them from Herr Tost, I beg you to furnish me at once with an a parte written assurance of the fact, because I am told that Herr Tost pretends I sold these 2 Symphonies to you and thereby caused him a great loss.

Hoping for a speedy reply I am, Sir, most respectfully,

Your most obedient servant,

Josephus Haydn

 

[To JEAN-GEORGES SIEBER, PARIS, in German]

Estoras, 27th July 1789

Monsieur!

[Haydn … describes his correspondence with Artaria on the subject] … this present letter should serve to protect your interests in any court. On the other hand, I beg you to convince Herr Tost as well, and in order to deprive him of all his other claims to these Symphonies, please send me your authentic signature of contract so that my interests are protected. Thus you are protected for your part, and I am for mine, while Herr Tost will be reduced to silence for ever. I hope to receive the favor of an early reply,

Meanwhile I am, most respectfully,
Your most obedient servant,

Josephus Haydn

Beyond the direct interest which this affair illuminates for the works at hand, I bring it up here specifically to provide an example of the sorts of odd events which dot the landscape of music publishing in the 18^th century. Just like all composers often did, Haydn got the short end of the stick, probably more often than not. We will certainly have more of this coming up in the next few years, and while some of it may reflect poorly on Haydn by our modern standards, we need to see the larger picture too; this is how business was done!

Hob. I:88 in G major

I	Adagio – Allegro	3/4 - 2/4	G
II	Largo	3/4	D
III	Menuetto: Allegretto – Trio	3/4	G
IV	Finale: Allegro con spirito	2/4	G

Instrumentation: Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns (in G & D), 2 Trumpets (in C & D), Timpani,
Violins I & II, Viola, Cello & Bass (including obbligato oboe and cello in the Largo)

For anyone who knows this symphony already, for me to say 'it was the most popular of all the symphonies until recent times' will come as no surprise. From its first performance (believed to be) in Paris in 1789, until today, the infectious enthusiasm of the themes and the brilliant writing have made this symphony stand out above most others. And if it is less played now, it is only because other gems of Haydn's oeuvre have finally gotten the recognition they deserve, and so the playing time is divided more equally.

This is another symphony which begins with a nice little introduction, Adagio, leading into the Allegro of the main body. It is kind of Landon to point out the reason for this, and the trend which I had overlooked; symphonies in which the Allegro begins very quietly, piano, need the introduction to get your attention before taking off. The recent and future works in this category, 84, 85, 86, 88, 90, 91 & 92 will bear this out. The ones which have an Allegro beginning forte, such as 82, 83, 87 & 89 have no introduction. You probably already had figured this out, but I hadn't quite snapped to it yet.

As with most of Haydn's works, there are enjoyment aspects to be had on many levels. This one is particularly packed full with intellectual tidbits for the connoisseur, which is probably a reaction by Haydn to the perceived elite tastes of his audience. There were not a lot of unschooled concert goers in Paris in 1788! However, the entire package is presented in a way to please anyone. Thus the popularity which maintains even today.

So many great 88's to choose from!

The slow second movement, Largo, is the standout hit from this symphony, if only by an eyelash. I think it is important here to point out some of Landon's technical explanations for the use or lack thereof, of trumpets within symphonies in G major before now. The reason is because natural trumpets only had two keys in which they were truly effective; the first choice, C, being by far the most common, and the other, D, also sounding excellent, but a little less easy to write for or play. In Austria, trumpets in G were thin on the ground, if present at all, and were called 'English Trumpets'. They were extremely high-pitched, and technically difficult to write for as far as the rest of the band goes. So the choices were pretty slim; write in C or D or don't use trumpets. Which is what was done. Another custom was to refrain from using trumpets and timpani during slow movements. Haydn had never used them, in any key. The first work we know of, Mozart's first and last venture at it, was K 425, the brilliant 'Linz' Symphony of 1783. There, Mozart used trumpets in C in a movement in C, so there were not technical difficulties so much as the element of pure surprise. In 1785, Michael Haydn, in Salzburg still, wrote a wonderful Orchestral Serenade in D (MH 407) which uses trumpets and timpani in its extended slow movement. It is possible, but far from certain, Haydn knew both these works, so he had a precedent for the concept. His Paris audience, however, most certainly knew neither one of them, nor any other work which used trumpets and timpani in the slow movement, or even used them in a work in G major, so it must have puzzled the observant auditor to see trumpeters and drummers sitting in with the band, and yet doing nothing at all throughout the first movement, or for the first 40 measures of the Largo. To say it was a surprise when they suddenly began playing is an understatement; as long as a decade later, music critics were still talking about it in their columns! In a business which, at the time, thrived on "new", this must be some sort of record. And let's not overlook the (possibly apocryphal) story of Brahms, much later in the 19^th century, who is reported by Donald Tovey (n.b. - Tovey was great friends with Joseph Joachim later in life, so he may have got this story from him) to have said to his friend, John Farmer, while he was playing this movement (on the piano?), "I want my 9^th Symphony to sound like this!". Among the things I enjoy about this movement is the solo oboe and cello parts, the incredibly memorable theme, from which Haydn himself seems unable to depart, and the structure which sounds simple and yet is complex enough to be difficult for some very knowledgeable people to define. It is some sort of a variation sonata/rondo, there you have it! And while it may seem pretty standard to us today, imagine yourself in the audience, thinking you've heard it all before, and suddenly, there are those trumpets!

The minuet is extra special too, with delays in the downbeats giving rhythmic variety. The real treat is, as usual, the Trio, with its bagpipe-ish (mit dem Dudelsack) drones accompanying the melody. The finale is Haydn's by-now-standard rondo, which also presents some opportunities for housekeeping in the 'classic form' department; a canon which was stopped, unfinished, in the first movement is completed here, for example, and a truncated theme in the first is mirrored in the last. There are so many little points of cyclic unity throughout this work, it is a testament to the distance traveled in the last twenty-five years of Haydn's musical journey!

Hob. I:89 in F major

I	Vivace	4/4	F
II	Andante con moto	6/8	C
III	Menuet: Allegretto – Trio	3/4	F
IV	Finale: Vivace assai	2/4	F

Instrumentation: 1 Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns (in F & C), Violins I & II, Viola, Cello & Basses.

Looking back now at the music we have visited with through the years, we see several places where Haydn took music he had written for other purposes and made the most out of it. Given the general quality of his works, and the one-time-only fate of some of them, it would be a big surprise if he never repurposed, especially with the schedule he was keeping by now. So, if King Ferdinand of Naples happened to Paris in 1788 and stopped in at the Concerts Spirituel for the matinee, he might have been a bit surprised to hear the newest Haydn creation gracing the stage: half of the movements were from his own Concerto #5 for 2 Lira organizzate! Not a note-for-note duplication, but an adaptation, certainly. Landon, on the one hand, seems a bit disappointed in its conservatism, but then, he says 'the design of the work is immaculate; it is 'rather like the perfectly fashioned German porcelain figurines of that period'. You have to wonder what it takes to make everyone happy!

A great choice for both these works!

The first movement here, Vivace, is reminiscent of an Italian overture in style, opening with five hammerstrokes. But from there, it is really more like the Viennese standard (by now) sonata form movement. And like the opera idea which drives the 'overture', much of this movement seems like an operatic aria in character.

The second movement of the symphony is based on the second movement of the concerto. It is a Siciliano (surely this won't surprise you?), very straightforward. Haydn adapted it by repeating the opening phrase and changing the orchestration, but it is unmistakably the same music. In the concerto the wind instruments dominate, the Andante con moto does the same. When we get to the minuet, we see also the long beginning for wind band alone, probably complementary to this beginning, and according to Peter Brown, unique in the genre (at least for Haydn). The Trio goes back to one of Haydn's favorite devices; it is a Ländler, the country dance of central Europe.

What was a pleasant little finale in the concerto becomes here a full-blown symphonic rondo. A newly added section in f minor which is full of counterpoint and almost violent, off-the-beat accents. It is turbulent and powerful. Of course, this wouldn't have worked in the original, but in this symphony, it provides the needed balance to the rather light main theme from the concerto, which is used for the rondo. All in all, this is a very successful adaptation from a pleasant evening's diversion to a greatly entertaining symphony.

This year's symphonies, then. Both of them very entertaining, one of them stratospherically popular for well over 200 years. It's that Golden Age thing at work, I tell you! Next time, we will look at a new opus of string quartets. Were they really a reply to Mozart's 'Haydn Quartets'?

Thanks for reading!

1787 – The Year - Rohrau to the Stars!

 

Haydn in 1785 - life-size portrait by Christian Ludwig Seehas

Golden Age:

1. the most flourishing period in the history of a nation, literature, etc.
2. a period of great happiness, prosperity, and achievement

Is there anything more subjective than naming a period in an artist's lifetime as his/her 'Golden Age'? Or more debatable for that matter. What fool among us would climb out on that branch? Yes, of course, I will!

I admit to some slight personal eccentricities. One of them includes maintaining my music collection in chronological order. A byproduct of this quirk is to be able to see at a glance which compositions belong together, and then, when I listen, I get the broadest cross-section of genres for an evening's entertainment. Since I am one of those odd folks for whom entertainment is the raison d'etre of music, this works well for me. And an observation I have made over the years is this: when left to my own devices, with no ulterior motive for making a listening choice, music from Haydn's five year period spanning 1785 to 1789 gets chosen as many times as the entire remainder of his oeuvre combined! Not London or post-London, not Sturm or even Drang; not even my little pet vice, the early pre-Classic works.

By this time in his career, Haydn was an unparalleled master of composition. All his little puzzles had been worked out to his satisfaction, he was happy in love, flourishing in international public acclaim, he remained highly esteemed by his Prince, and was yet young enough to still have an inexhaustible store of ideas and now he had the capabilities to express them. He had numerous friends in Vienna, not least being fellow genius Mozart, and at least a little bit of time to enjoy them all. In short, this was his Golden Age!

Even if you will give me this without further argument, I'm afraid there is no neat little arch with a peak in the middle, matching 1787. It is more like he climbed to the top of the plateau in 1785 which he then occupied unchallenged until his death. Remember, it was only the dead Mozart who rode to the heights of fame. Vienna wouldn't have allowed a living composer to be so justly acclaimed. Nor did Haydn gain fame in Vienna, he finally found transcendence elsewhere, nor did Beethoven, who struggled his entire life to gain the recognition he deserved. And let's not even talk about Schubert! But the premise I am now carrying forward is a simple one; the accomplishments of any one year going forward are qualitatively similar. The apprentice and journeyman we looked at in earlier times has graduated, the Master is now in charge!

So what was Haydn up to in 1787? In most ways it was like many of the years which preceded it.

Numero uno: Take care of The Prince. And so there were ninety-eight performances in the Opera House in the 1787 season. As we see, five new operas, and the trend of recent years continues, a balance between comic and serious.

Il sordo e l'avaro	Pasquale Anfossi	dramma giocoso (buffo)
Il disertore	Francesco Bianchi	dramma per musica (seria)
La Quaquera spiritoso	Pietro Guglielmi	dramma giocoso (buffo)
Alessandro nell'Indie	Francesco Bianchi	dramma per musica (seria)
Le gare generose	Giovanni Paisiello	dramma giocoso (buffo)

As well, there were nine operas from previous years, including Armida. Three of those operas also required a replacement aria, so even though, compared to the peak in 1786, it was a modest year, one can't help thinking such a workload would have broken the average man, yet for Haydn it was apparently just a warmup!

Nicholas Esterházy was now 72 years old. He had lived a great life so far, truly living up to his name 'The Magnificent'! But it may not be much of a stretch here to say he could see his days were on the short side. In 1787, he had the contents of the beautiful little marionette theater packed up and put in storage in a warehouse nearby, and from now it disappears from the story. The German Repertory Theater continued on, but the obviously cherry-picked, serious and cutting edge dramatic works disappeared from the repertory, replaced by second tier, small town style amusements and diversions. No more Shakespeare, Goethe, Lessing or Schiller. Haydn's work load must have lightened considerably, although he probably had mixed feelings about it.

Haydn spent the first two weeks of the New Year visiting the city of Graz, Austria. Although it is a mere 200 kilometers (125 miles) from Vienna, it is the furthest he had been from home since, well, possibly ever! Carl Chorus (isn't that a great name for a musicus?), a former oboist in the Esterházy Band, lived there now and invited Haydn to play/conduct at the concert for Graz's version of the Widows and Orphans of Musicians society. Along with the rave reviews in the newspapers, we also get to see, yet again, the charitable side of Haydn's nature, spending the heart of his own meager vacation time off doing charity work for erstwhile comrades. On the other hand, Graz IS the place to be in mid-winter Austria, with a nearly Italianate climate and surrounded on three sides by the scenic Alps... just saying.

Since this year is so extraordinarily well documented with letters, not only to Artaria, but also to Forster in London, and from such as the King of Prussia and others, I think it would be a good time to roll some tape, as they say in the News business, and let the story tell itself (with an explanatory note here and there). I will just print some extracts and leave out the gossip, which Haydn was apparently fond of. All of this comes from The Collected Correspondence and London Notebooks of Joseph Haydn by H.C. Robbins-Landon. Hope you find this as interesting as I did…

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. (in German)]

Estoras, 11^th February 1787.

Mon tres cher Amy!

This is to report that I have arranged 4 of the Sonatas as quartets, and have completed them; you will receive the whole work this coming Friday. Meanwhile you can give the first violin part of the first four Sonatas to the engraver, just as it stands, because there was no need to change anything. You will receive the Quartet a week from tomorrow….

The four sonatas come from the Seven Last Words. The quartet mentioned at the end is one of the first three of Opus 50, no clues offered as to which.

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. (in German)]

Estoras, 14^th February 1787.

Mon tres cher Amy!

I enclose herewith all four altered parts, and hope that the copyist will understand me well, and especially that he will do all the parts in the right order, that is, as proper quartets. If there should arise any doubt about certain passages, the copyist should let me know about them at once, so that I can help him in time. All 4 parts, that is, each Sonata in which there are changes, must be written out anew.

As soon as proofs of the Sonatas (both as quartets and for full band) can be made, please send me the first copy, so that I can correct it. The content of the Sonatas expressed in music is also enclosed herewith, and it must be printed in the quartet version as well.

The Quartet will follow soon. The opera rehearsals here detain me…

The 'content' is, of course, the Latin phrases of the Words themselves. There can be no doubt about the importance Haydn placed on them. The 'Quartet' is yet another of Opus 50.

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. (in German)]

Estoras, 27^th February 1787.

Mon tres cher Amy!

… snip out a long paragraph about some portraits and some dealings with Paris…

Another thing: yesterday I received a letter from Herr von Jacoby, the Royal Prussian Minister, in which he wrote the following :

WHAT ARE THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF SOME PIECES OF YOURS WHICH HERR ARTARIA INTENDS TO SEND TO THE KING AT BERLIN? I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION FROM YOURSELF, AND THEREFORE BEG YOU TO GIVE ME ONE.

I hope that you do not perhaps intend to dedicate these Sonatas to His Majesty, either as quartets or for full band, because that would be contrary to all common sense; but I believe that you must mean the new Quartets, which I highly approve of, if this is what you intend to do…

Please let me know about this, to allay my suspicions; I wouldn't want you thereby to disgust me altogether, for I have always been your sincere friend and will remain so.

Your most obedient servant,

Joseph Haydn

 

Clearly, Haydn doesn't wish to be made to look foolish by having Artaria dedicate The Seven Last Words to the King, in any form. It is not generally well known that it was a publisher, not a composer, who dedicated works. And made the profit from that too! I love the direct speaking too; I wouldn't want you thereby to disgust me altogether…

[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. (in German)]

Estoras, 7^th March 1787

Dearest friend !

…. snip …..

Herr von Jacobi [sic] only wanted to know what work it was that you intended to dedicate to the King of Prussia, and I wrote to him that I believed it would be quartets.

I send you herewith the first movement of the 3rd Quartet; you will receive the others one of the next days. I am pressed for time…

Lest there be any confusion.

And now, on a totally different subject. I will insert here some little [notes] to replace long lists, since this was a three-page letter at the first.

[To WILLIAM FORSTER, LONDON. (in German)]

Estoras, 8th April 1787.

Monsieur!

After a long silence I must at last enquire after your health, and at the same time report that the following new works may be had of me, viz.:

6 elegant Symphonies; [The Paris Symphonies]

A big pianoforte Concerto; [Hob 18:11 in D]

3 small pianoforte Divertimenti for beginners, with violins and bass [probably some of the very old (1760-ish) Hob 14 concertini]

A Sonata for pianoforte alone. [unknown – Landon suggests Hob 16:48, but it wasn't composed for another two years]

A brand new work, consisting of purely instrumental music divided in 7 Sonatas, each Sonata lasting 7 or 8 minutes, together with an opening Introduction and concluding with a Terremoto, or Earthquake. These Sonatas are written around, and composed according to, the Words which Christ our Savior spoke on the Cross, and are entitled The Seven Words.

[here follows a list of the 7 Words in Latin]

Each Sonata, or rather each setting of the text, is expressed only by instrumental music, but in such a way that it creates the most profound impression even on the most inexperienced listener. The whole work lasts a little more than one hour, but there is a bit of a pause after each Sonata so that one can contemplate the following text. As far as the copying goes, all the Sonatas together require a little more space than one of my symphonies, and the whole work would take about 37 sheets.

Item: I have, moreover, 3 brand new and charming Notturni with violin obbligato but not at all difficult flute, violoncello, 2 violins ripenio, 2 hunting horns, viola and contra basso. [again, unknown. They could be the Baryton Octet arrangements with these same instruments which Artaria published as Opus 31, or possibly the Lira concerti, already rearranged. Landon says this is the more likely, and yet, I find it hard to accept, given that Haydn presented some of them at his Salomon concerts as 'new works', and was never contradicted.]

If you want anything of all these works, please be good enough to let me know at your earliest convenience, and also the fee you propose to give me. The 7 Sonatas are already copied, neatly and clearly, on small-sized music paper for mailing.

Hoping for an answer, I am, with esteem,

Your wholly obedient servant,

Joseph Haydn.

Please answer in French.

I hope to see you personally at the end of the year, but since I haven't heard from Herr Cramer* up to now, I shall accept an engagement to go to Naples this Winter**. But I am much obliged to you for your kind offer to put me up.

*WILHELM CRAMER, born in Mannheim, came to London and made a considerable reputation for himself as leader, solo violinist and impresario. He almost succeeded in persuading Haydn to come to London at this time.

**The afore-mentioned Concerti had evidently so delighted Ferdinand that he had invited Haydn to come to Naples.

And one last letter, to round out what is merely the first third of a busy year:

[To HAYDN FROM FRIEDRICH WILHELM II, KING OF PRUSSIA. (in German)]

His Majesty, King of Prussia, &c., &c. is sensible of the mark of respect which Herr Kapellmeister Haydn, in sending him six new Symphonies, again wishes to show to His Serene Majesty. They have especially pleased him, and there is no doubt that His Highness has always appreciated Herr Kapellmeister Haydn's works, and will appreciate them at all times. To provide concrete assurance of the same, he sends him the enclosed ring as a mark of His Highness' satisfaction and of the favor in which he holds him.

F Wilhelm.

Potsdam, 21^st April 1787

[These are, once again, the 'Paris' Symphonies]

[enclosed is a large gold ring]

Back in 1781, I pointed out the beginning of Haydn's new career as an entrepreneur. While only scratching the surface of it here, I think it can be fairly asserted, he has come a long way in a short time. If I thought your patience would stretch far enough to read through to year's end, I would show you the other side of the coin; this was also the year in which Haydn developed playing fast and loose with the ethics of the business into its own art form, as we tend to interpret them today. I am not minimizing this aspect of his personality, but I will go on record here as saying that here, as in so many other bits and pieces of life where history is concerned, we should give serious consideration to the wisdom of applying the mores of modern times and situations to what was happening 230 years ago. Given the realities of the business at the time, I actually rather admire the composers who fought back by maximizing their opportunities to avoid giving things away or having them stolen from them. Music publishers had been making a fortune from Haydn's name for over twenty years already, while he hadn't made a kreutzer. It is life as it was in 1787. We will be seeing more of these letters in the discussion of specific works, since they are very illuminating.

This year we will see the rest of the concertos for Naples, two new, brilliant symphonies, and a superb set of quartets, along with some arrangements made. Truly, works of the Golden Age!

Thanks for reading!

1786 – The Music part 4 - 7 Last Words - The Passion, continuity and change

Hob. #	Genre	Instruments	Title
20:1	Instrumental Oratorio	2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 4 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani & Strings	The Seven Last Words of our Savior on the Cross

The Crucifixion tableau at Oratorio Santa Cueva

Our last work of 1786 is a great favorite of both Haydn and myself. It is nice we agree on so much! Once again, we find Haydn composing for someone else, not only away from Eszterháza, but even away from Austria. In this year alone, we have traveled to Paris and Naples, and now we go to Cádiz, Spain. What do these diverse places, which all wanted a piece of Haydn, have in common? For one thing, Haydn had never seen any of them, nor would he ever.

As you see, I have categorized this work, the original Haydn composition, as an 'instrumental oratorio'. This does not really follow anyone else's lead, since there is a consistent pattern in the Haydn literature of not classifying it as anything at all! And it may well be I am incorrect, possibly there IS no correct category for it, and instrumental oratorio itself is something of an oxymoron, but I like it, so we'll go with it. Send dissenting emails to the address in the comments section.

Although the work itself is unique in many ways, the concept of musical settings for the Passion of Christ and the Crucifixion was already old hat by the time we are looking at now. Documentation exists for Passion readings extending back to the 4^th century. To telescope the events a bit, over time, texts are shown to contain a steadily increasing set of accents and markings which show, first, they were intoned, then chanted at a pitch, and finally sung. By the 13^th century, different persons sang different 'characters' in the text. By the 15^th century these became rather elaborate, with conventions for voice ranges (tenor, bass etc.) for certain characters. In the later 15th century a number of new styles began to emerge (thanks to Wikipedia for this):

• Responsorial Passions in which the narration is chanted but the turba (crowd) parts and sometimes Christ's words are set polyphonically.
• Through-composed Passions, also called Motet Passions, in which all text is set polyphonically. The earliest extant example of this type is sometimes attributed to Jacob Obrecht.
• Summa Passionis settings, drawing on all four Gospels, were never incorporated into the liturgy of the church, but circulated widely nonetheless. The Seven Last Words is in this category.

Caldara's original setting of Metastasio's 'The Passion...'

I'm not presenting an all-encompassing history of Passion liturgy here, so I will just point out this relevant fact: we have now reached The Reformation, and Roman Catholic and Protestant liturgies tend to go their own ways from this point forward. Since we are discussing Haydn's own Roman Catholic background, we will have to overlook such gems of the literature as J.S. Bach's St. Matthew Passion and St. John Passion, which were, generically, German style oratorio works, another 17^th century development. The Roman Catholics in Austria, on the other hand, expanded the development of Italian style oratorios, which by their high point around 1700 were even being composed by the Emperor himself (Joseph I, who wrote insertion arias for the Sepolcro Alme Ingrate). These Passion oratorios differed from the norm in that they were not divided into two large sections, and they were performed in front of a stage setting featuring the Holy Sepulcher. Thus their Italianate name, 'Sepolcro'.

The next stage of development, though, is the one which would have most influenced young Haydn, the chorister, and greatly formed his ideas of what a proper Passion should be. This was a Passion/oratorio which was, by now, a full two part oratorio, such as The Passion of Jesus Christ Our Lord, a libretto written by our old friend Pietro Metastasio in 1730, and which was set by no fewer than fifty-three composers, including (first) Antonio Caldara and eventually Salieri, Myslivecek, Joseph Starzer and many others. Interestingly, of the fifty-three versions, only the first and the last (1730 and 1812 respectively) were from outside Haydn's lifetime. A major factor in the genre was injecting a moral for meditation purposes. Caldara was highly influential throughout the 18^th century in Vienna's music, and it would be no exaggeration to say that he and his nominal superior, Johann Fux, were the basis on which Haydn and his peers built Classic Era sacred music.

Unlike the earlier Sepolcri, these oratorios were not acted out, but they were described as "taking place at the Most Holy Sepulcher" (al santissimo sepolcro). Presentations of these works continued right through the eighteenth century, and became, over time, quite grand affairs. Even though Maria Theresia ran a Court which was a far cry from the grandiose affairs of her father and grandfathers, there were certain things which were simply required from the Holy Roman Empire, and this aspect of the liturgy was one of them.

So this is the background against which, in 1785 or '86, Haydn began work on a commission from a Jesuit priest in the Andalusian city of Cádiz, on the southwest coast of Spain. Padre José Marcos Sáenz de Santa María (1738–1804) was spiritual director of a Catholic gentlemen's association called the Hermandad de la Santa Cueva (Brotherhood of the Sacred Cave), and administrator of their chapel, the Oratorio de la Santa Cueva. Observance of the Passion was every bit as important to Spain as it was to Italy and Austria, with highly elaborate processions and Stations of the Cross, along with traditional music as elsewhere. Given Haydn's description of the origin story to Greisinger several years later, it is clear that the commission itself gave some idea of the circumstances under which the works would be played:

Some fifteen years ago I was requested by a canon [priest] of Cádiz to compose instrumental music on the Seven Last Words of Our Savior on the Cross. It was customary at the Cathedral of Cádiz to produce an oratorio every year during Lent, the effect of the performance being not a little enhanced by the following circumstances. The walls, windows, and pillars of the church were hung with black cloth, and only one large lamp hanging from the center of the roof broke the solemn darkness. At midday, the doors were closed and the ceremony began. After a short service the bishop ascended the pulpit, pronounced the first of the seven words (or sentences) and delivered a discourse thereon. This ended, he left the pulpit and fell to his knees before the altar. The interval was filled by music. The bishop then in like manner pronounced the second word, then the third, and so on, the orchestra following on the conclusion of each discourse. My composition was subject to these conditions, and it was no easy task to compose seven adagios lasting ten minutes each, and to succeed one another without fatiguing the listeners; indeed, I found it quite impossible to confine myself to the appointed limits.

The sort of statement I rarely make: if you haven't seen this, you haven't heard the Seven Last Words!

Cádiz itself is not as unlikely a choice for this commission as it might seem without knowing some background. It's location, nearly on Gibraltar, and its Royal status as home to the House of Commerce, which governed all trade with the New World, insured that its wealthy class would have access to the latest and greatest cultural innovations, and this included music from all over Europe, as well as from Spain itself.

Santa Cueva, up until the early 1780's, was just as the name suggests: an underground chapel with a dark stone, plain interior. Padre José commissioned an architect to add a magnificent oval chapel above the ground, and subsequently commissioned Spain's most celebrated painter, Francisco Goya, to paint three religious scenes for the new building, and installed appropriate statues, such as the Crucifixion scene at the top of this page. But even before any of that, it appears that one of the first decisions, when he received his inheritance, was to ask Europe's most celebrated composer to compose the Seven Last Words. It is likely that Haydn did not quite understand how small and plain Santa Cueva was at the time, and it is quite possible this information was deliberately concealed from him. He described the commission in later years as having come from the Cádiz cathedral and spoke of Padre José as a canon or a bishop. Of course, Padre José was not just a priest, he was a Jesuit. He would approach such things delicately. He asked his friend, Francisco Micón, a musician of some stature, to write to Haydn. Micón's letter must have contained detailed instructions of what the final results needed to be.

A Passion Procession in modern Cádiz

According to Savall, the result was to be a true "oratorio without words", a description which pleases me no end.

In practical terms, the commission was clear and explicit: what was wanted was a musical meditation on each of the seven last words of Christ, plus introduction and conclusion, composed for chamber orchestra. In accordance with the description above, the priest would utter the phrase from the Bible, give a short sermon on its meaning or relevance, then fall deeply into prayer while the sonata played. After the seventh of these, the Earthquake postlude would be played, signaling the death of Christ. Let's have a look at the Seven Last Words and the structure of the music which Haydn wrote for them.

Part	Phrase (Word) & Source	Key	Tempo
Introduction		d minor	Maestoso ed Adagio
Sonata I	Pater, dimitte illis, quia nesciunt, quid faciunt Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do Luke 23: 33-34	Bb major	Largo
Sonata II	Hodie mecum eris in paradise Today you will be with me in Paradise Luke 23: 39-43	c minor ending in C major	Grave e cantabile
Sonata III	Mulier, ecce filius tuus! Woman, behold your son! John 19: 25-27	E major	Grave
Sonata IV	Deus meus, Deus meus, utquid dereliquisti me? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Matthew 27: 45-47	f minor	Largo
Sonata V	Sitio I thirst John 19: 28	A major	Adagio
Sonata VI	Consummatum est It is finished John 19: 29-30	g minor ending in G major	Lento
Sonata VII	In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum Father, into your hands I commend my spirit Luke 23: 44-46	Eb major	Largo
Postlude	Il terremoto The Earthquake	c minor	Presto e con tutta la forza

When they are laid out this way, you can see immediately how Haydn solved the dilemma of avoiding monotony due to tempo. Ordinarily this was done by alternating movements in a fast-slow-very fast etc. sort of way. Since this wasn't feasible within the parameters of the commission, Haydn fell back on a device which he had been working on for two decades (at least) and which he is famous for even today; he alternated modes, just as he does in double variations. After the d minor Introduction, he goes by steps up the scale beginning in Bb major, peaking at Sonata V in A major, then back down again to end in c minor. In addition, if such things are important to you (and they should be), the sonatas give an unparalleled lesson in the subtle differences between tempos such as Largo, Lento, Grave and Adagio. As a matter of personal taste, I have always been irritated by the way these four tempi are tossed under the blanket called 'Slow', and essentially played the same way. Can't do that here!

 

The 1787 Artaria keyboard version, showing the Word being set in the first long phrase

 The main idea which Haydn wished to convey directly to the musicians was that they should consider themselves, at the beginning of each sonata, to be playing accompaniment to the phrase (Word) itself. With this in view, he had the phrase printed right on top of the staff in the first violin part of the orchestral and string quartet versions, and even the keyboard version, shown here, bears the verse. Years later, Abbé Maximilian Stadler told the Novellos, a London couple who were researching music in Austria and published a great book about it, that he was with Haydn shortly after he got the commission and they were discussing the intricacies of such a work. Stadler claimed he actually suggested to Haydn that he could start out each sonata by setting the words of Christ. Even Stadler didn't know if Haydn was already planning to do it this way, but in the event, this is precisely what occurred.

Next year we will be taking a look at the chamber versions which soon hit the shelves in Vienna and elsewhere, which reflects the immediate popularity of this work wherever it was heard. It premiered in Santa Cueva on April 6, 1787 at the Good Friday service, but it had already been played at least twice in Vienna by then. I would love, here, to be able to report that the story I once heard of the piece having been played every year at Santa Cueva from then to now is true, but I can't find any documentation for it, so sadly I leave it as one of those unsubstantiated myths which make one feel good.

This sums up our look at 1786, a year when we see how far and wide Haydn's fame has carried, despite which, as we will later see, Haydn the person was still an International Man of Mystery!

Thanks for reading!

1786 – The Music Part 3 - Quality without fame works too!

Hob. #	Genre	Key	Instrument(s)	Notes
17:09	Adagio	F	Solo keyboard
24a:07	Cantata	Eb	Soprano - 2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns & Strings	Cantata - Miseri noi, misera patria (Recitative & Aria)
24b:09	Aria		Soprano & Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns & Strings	Sono Alcina e sono ancora for the character 'Lesbia' (Barbara Ripamonti) in L'isola di Alcina by Gazzaniga

1786 has proved to be quite a year so far. 125 opera performances, the last three Paris Symphonies and at least the first two of the Naples Concertos. Haydn could hardly be blamed for taking a well-earned vacation at this point, but no, he suffered from the opposite end of the same syndrome I do; too much music, too little time! He writes, I listen; perfect co-dependence!

A 'must have' CD; the Adagio is a bonus!

And write he did. Some of those works are still obscure, a common problem with a composer who has a thousand or more works to his credit. Some are not so obscure, but still lie buried beneath the avalanche of others.

The keyboard piece (Klavierstücke) Hoboken 17:9, a short (four minutes on average) Adagio, was probably composed in late 1785 or early 1786, since the sketch for it was found on some leftover staves of Symphony #84. Artaria published it in September, 1786, and there it might have ended except for one thing. In 1794, Haydn was composing a pair of sonatas for Therese Jansen and right in the middle of the C major one (Hob 16:50 (#60)) he saw an opportunity to revisit that Adagio, and with a not insignificant amount of retooling, it became the central point of one of his finest keyboard works. This is all not to say it didn't stand well on its own. In the recording world, music of insignificance can be very hard to find recorded. I have seven recordings of Hob 17:9 on period instruments, and only four of them are in complete cycles which are bound to include it. So the other three did so because they liked it, which warms my heart even more towards this pleasant work, laboring in obscurity.

A fine combination of talents!

It has been a while since Haydn produced a standalone, solo cantata, perhaps since Qual dubbio ormai in 1764. In Miseri noi, misera patria, we once again have a work whose origins are shrouded in mystery. It was composed by 1786, because Artaria published it then. Landon seems at a loss, supposing it was extracted from an opera, but even though we know the story which is being told, it doesn't mesh up with any opera known from Eszterháza, and so it seems unlikely it came from such a source. This is a standard cantata in form, the first half is recitative and the second is an aria. One of the, shall we say oddities, of this work lies in the interesting treatment of the lyric. The story being told has to do with a city which has been sacked, the walls are a smoldering ruin; yet, the music itself and the tone imposed on the singer is not necessarily tragic, rather, it is quite stately and, as Richard Wigmore calls it, equable. Wigmore also suggests it was composed for Nancy Storace, that friend of Haydn and Mozart, who gave a large benefit academy (benefit academies were concerts given by artists to raise money, often for themselves) in 1784. Knowing Haydn as we do, I wonder why no one seems to suggest it was just a personal touch of his humor which produced this interesting mismatch in temperaments. I haven't the least problem coming to grips with this idea! Haydn brought it to London with him in 1791, and added a flute to the orchestra to fill out the sound. Landon's assertion that this was Haydn's most important essay in the genre before Scena de Berenice in 1795 seems spot on to me, and makes me wonder yet again why it

Bonitatibus is a modern day Ripamonti

is so thinly represented in the recorded repertory. The only positive is that this version features the brilliant voice of the late Arleen Augér, and so no gap is left unfilled.

Unlike the pleasant voiced soubrette Polzelli, Barbara Ripamonti, Prima Donna at Eszterháza from 1778-80 and again from 1784-86, had a great mezzo-soprano voice. As we recall from 1780, Haydn's L'isola disabitata went out of production after its second performance because she left and they were unable to fill the part, short of Haydn rewriting it. So when she returned to Eszterháza, the door was opened to again stage an opera buffa by the last of the great Italian buffa composers, Giuseppe Gazzaniga, L'isola di Alcina (The Island of Alcina). Composed for Venice in 1772, this was a very popular piece for years afterward. Ripamonti had sung this same part, the mezzo 'Lesbia', in 1779 when this opera was first staged in Eszterháza, so for this series, Haydn added this aria, Sono Alcina e sono ancora, which is a very attractive cavatina, sure to please. Alcina is a sorceress, blessed not only with eternal youth, but also the ability to make any man fall in love with her. She then turns each of them into a plant or animal. This aria praises her beauty and eternal youth and ability to charm any man. Witchcraft notwithstanding.

So these are the three works of this year which haven't popped up in everyone's Haydn Top 40. No reason not to check them out though, as we know by now, Haydn put his best efforts into everything he wrote. Even the 'minor' things!

Next time, we are off to Spain to see what Haydn has cooked up this time. Paella? I think not!

Thanks for reading!