Hob.# |
Genre |
Key |
Number |
Instrument(s) |
Notes |
15:13 |
Accompanied Sonata (Trio) |
c |
L. 26 |
Keyboard, Violin & Cello |
The third of the set for Artaria |
16:48 |
Sonata |
C |
L. 58 |
Fortepiano |
Written for Christoph Breitkopf to include in an anthology of piano works |
17:04 |
Capriccio |
C |
Fortepiano |
Based on the Austrian folk song Do Bäuren hat d'Katz valor'n (The Farmer's Wife has lost her cat). Artaria called it a "Fantesia" [sic]. |
I find it to be an interesting contrast, the constant of the symphony, all powerful, ever improving, versus the truly mixed group of 'other works' which Haydn has been composing along with them throughout the 1780's. And while we won't see another symphony until we have been in London for quite some time, the 'other works' will continue along, and range from the keyboard and accompanied sonatas and string quartets to the… flute-clock?? See, the lire organizzata doesn't seem quite so outré now, does it?
First, though, we need to note the newly developed relationship between Haydn and Leipzig publisher Christoph Breitkopf.
[To CHRISTOPH GOTTLOB BREITKOPF, LEIPZIG. in German]
Estoras, 5th April 1789.
Well born, Most highly respected Sir !
Through Herr Traeg I am sending you the new pianoforte Sonata, fully hoping that it will meet with the musical world's approbation. I have received the 10 # [ducats] in good order, for which I thank you. As for the other demands in your letter, I cannot accommodate you because I am simply overloaded with work. I would only ask for a clean engraving, and that you send me a few copies. Meanwhile I remain, most respectfully,
Your most obedient servant,
Joseph Haydn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Breitkopf, who was already on the way to being one of the major music publishing figures of all time, was still fairly early on in the business when he solicited Haydn for a sonata to add to an anthology of keyboard works he had in mind. In the event, it was published as the first in a series of Musical Potpourri. The work itself, Haydn's first sonata since the set for Princess Marie Esterházy in 1783, is a world away from those beauties, though. If one were looking for a kindred stylistic model, the name which leaps to mind is Muzio Clementi, whose demands for some virtuosity, and some grandeur along with it, were a turnoff for Mozart, but not so much for Haydn, who had a more catholic outlook that way. What we see here is Haydn reveling in the possibilities of his new Schanz fortepiano. His whole composing career, according to what he told his biographers, was spent fantasizing at the keyboard working ideas into art. With a new, amazingly advanced tool in the workshop, there is no doubt how he put it to work.
The illustration, bars 11-17 of the first movement, are sufficient to show how the dynamics alone would have knocked the harpsichord right out of the running for playing this one! The opening movement, Andante con Espressione, is actually another fine example of Haydn's double variations, where the theme is advanced in the major sections and then is developed in the minor ones. The finale is a Rondo: Presto, which truly exploits all the new effects which Haydn suddenly had available to him. This is the first of Haydn's last five great sonatas, and it opens the door on what will be a new peak in a genre which Haydn quietly dominated.
We looked already at the trio finished this year, along with its mates which were composed last year. It was still on Haydn's agenda when he introduces us to this next, very intriguing work:
[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. German]
Estoras, 29th March 1789.
Mon tres cher amy!
I send you herewith the 3rd Sonata, [The keyboard trio, Hob 15:13] which I have rewritten with variations, to suit your taste. Please hurry the engraving of all 3 as best you can, because many people are anxiously awaiting the publication. In my leisure hours I have completed a new Capriccio for the pianoforte which, from its taste, singularity and careful execution cannot but fail to be received with approbation from professional and non-professional alike. It's only one piece, rather long, but not all too difficult; since I always give you the preference in my works, I now offer it to you for 24 ducats: the price is rather high, but I assure you a profit on it; since in any case I am your debtor, you can deduct the sum from the debt. In awaiting your opinion, I remain, most respectfully,
Your most obedient servant,
Joseph Haydn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[To ARTARIA & Co., VIENNA. German]
Estoras, 6th April 1789.
Well born, Most highly respected Sir !
I enclose the two security receipts which you asked for, and also the Capriccio, [Hob 17:04] with the solemn promise that no other soul shall receive it from my hands. I am sorry that the work involved does not allow me to reduce the price of 24 ducats by a single Kreutzer. I would ask you only that the Sonatas and the Capriccio be neatly and legibly engraved. Please expedite at once the enclosed letter to Herr Sieber, the Parisian publisher: it concerns his best interests.
Meanwhile I remain, most respectfully,
Your most obedient servant,
Joseph Haydn.
Capriccio or fantasia? Putting the proper names on 18th century and earlier music proves difficult for us, as indeed, it was difficult for Artaria! I think Artaria was wrong to change the name/genre if he was doing it based on the actual definition of what a 'fantasia' is, but if he was more concerned about boosting sales, then perhaps this was the way to go. Here are a couple of definitions, you might be able to arrive at your own conclusions:
Fantasia
2. 18th century.
The freedom inherited from its Renaissance and 17th-century forebears continued to be the primary characteristic of the 18th-century fantasia: freedom of rhythm and tempo, extending to the omission of bar-lines; unfettered exploitation of instrumental virtuosity; adventurousness in harmony and modulation.
Capriccio (It.: 'whim', 'fancy'; Fr. caprice).
The word first appeared in the second half of the 16th century, and it was used almost immediately in connection with pieces of music (the earliest reference, applied by Jacquet de Berchem to a set of madrigals, is in 1561).…. 'Capriccios are pieces of music, poetry or painting wherein the force of imagination has better success than observation of the rules of art'. 'Capriccio' does not signify a specific musical technique or structure, but rather a general disposition towards the exceptional, the whimsical, the fantastic and the apparently arbitrary.
New Grove Dictionary of Music & Musicians
Way back in 1765, Haydn composed one of the more revolutionary pieces of keyboard music of the time. He called it a 'capriccio', and it was basically a set of variations through a range of keys, based on an Austrian folk song, Acht Sauschneider müssen sein (It takes 8 strong men to castrate a boar). It wasn't as influential as it might have been because it wasn't published at the time, although it circulated in manuscript to a select group. If you would like to follow up on this work, and it would be worth your while to do so, you might check into the book here, as Tom Beghin is keen on putting forth this great story, and he does it well. The point for here and now, though, is that Haydn finally turned it over to Artaria just last year, and 23 years after its composition, it finally reached the public! So we can be quite sure that Haydn had his own idea of what a capriccio was when he told Artaria he had composed another. Both of these works are based on old Austrian folk tunes, not exactly as variations, but one could stretch a point and call them that.
I am intrigued by Peter Brown's suggestion of this piece as being a very capable introduction for the C major sonata of this year, which Haydn was working on simultaneously. It was only a few short years ago (1784-85) when Mozart composed an extended fantasia (K 475) as an introduction to his Sonata in c minor (K 457). One of the overlooked performance habits of the age was the appending of (often lengthy) introductions onto sonatas during performances. Another is linking sonatas together in performance with chromatic bridges, moving us to the key of the next work with grace and finesse. As you can easily do with the Mozart pieces, so you can also do with the Haydn ones. And there you will see how beautifully they fit together.
In the book of essays called 18th Century Keyboard Music*, musicologist Elaine Sisman tells us:
The new Fantasia (which he also referred to as a Capriccio in his correspondence) was also based on a folk song …. [it] possesses a demonic energy and extraordinary keyboard effects not found in the earlier piece [me: Hob 17:1]. Indeed, as a kind of free, developmental rondo whose first move is to the dominant, but whose shocking dynamic surprises, remote key juxtapositions, disorienting chromaticisms, and breakneck speed completely subvert any sense of traditional order, the Fantasia seems to be the reverse side—the tangled threads and rough edges—of the smooth cloth worn by the rondo finale of Sonata 48.
But there is often no better description of a piece of music than one given by someone who plays it. I ran across this great one while browsing through my collection. As you can see, Sudbin plays a modern piano, and one can hardly get a better argument for playing Haydn on something more like what he wrote it on!
Probably to the delight of many a period instrument enthusiast [NB - like me!], I will freely admit that certain qualities of the modern grand bring more headache than joy. One case in point is the interesting side-effect resulting from the longer strings combined with the much more powerful sustain pedal. In the Fantasia (Capriccio) in C major, Hob. XVII:4 (1789), Haydn on two occasions instructs the performer: Tenuto intanto, finché non si sente più il suono – "hold until the sound is not heard any more". Even on an early piano the resulting fermata is ridiculously long [me: which is the point, after all], but in modern times this joke completely backfires: by the time the modern string has stopped vibrating and the sound disappears, the listener has had plenty of time to get up for a cup of tea and - depending on the weather - a brief stroll in the park, and can still be back in his seat in time for the concluding passage. For this effect to work in performance, adjustments have therefore to be made somehow. Another awkwardness is the concluding cascades of octave glissandi, a technique also favored by Beethoven in his First Piano Concerto and 'Waldstein' Sonata. (So much for Beethoven's claim that he had not learned anything from his teacher!) These octave glissandi left far fewer blood stains on earlier pianos, with their shallow action. The Fantasia is a Presto and one of Haydn's most virtuosic works; full of nauseating hand-crossings between extreme registers, and invigorating double-third passages, designed to keep most bodily extremities in shape. Haydn's biggest joke, however, was probably the letter to his publisher where he writes that the piece is 'not at all difficult'. The cross-rhythmic patterns of three pairs of semiquavers established in 6/8 bars give this outrageous piece an almost jazzy feel, alternating with fugue-like sections. On the basis of the Fantasia it seems that Haydn may also have been a feline enthusiast. In a parallel to Scarlatti's famous 'Cat fugue' sonata, the theme of which was allegedly inspired by his cat walking across the keyboard, Haydn found inspiration in the folk-song Do Bäuren hat d'Katz valor'n (The farmer's wife has lost her cat) for the main melody of the Fantasia.
Yevgeny Sudbin: liner notes to his recording
Okay, I admit, this is one of my favorite pieces, and the combination with the sonata really works for me. I heartily commend it to you, listen to it with an ear which has been purged of everything post 1800, if you can do that, and it is not hard to see that now, nearing the end of his time in Eszterháza, Haydn is still on the cutting edge of the music which would inspire the 19th century!
Next time, some of those oddities,
Thanks for Reading!
* Robert L. Marshall, 2003 by Routledge (ISBN 0-415-96642-6)