Haydn Seek

1789 – The Music part 3 - The timing was just right!

Hob.#	Genre	Instrument(s)	Notes
19:01 - 16	Piece(s) Flötenuhrstücke	Flötenuhr (Clockwork pipe organ)	Only #16 is dated
24b:14	Aria	Tenor, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, Strings	Se tu mi sprezzi for the character 'Il Cavaliere' in I finti eredi by Sarti

 

During our long journey so far, we have been introduced to a good variety of instruments, new and old, which Haydn has composed for during his career. Instruments are always interesting for us, because many of the earlier versions of familiar instruments, like the cembalo con martelli, as well as the ones which have faded from memory, like the Baryton and lira organizzate, are fascinating in their own right. In my opinion, however, none of those instruments holds a candle to Haydn's next challenge, writing for the Flötenuhr, the mechanical clockwork pipe organ!

Knowing, as we do, of Nicholas' passion for music, it is easy to overlook the fact that he had an equally fervid desire for many other sorts of art. Eszterháza abounded with the fruits of his collecting passion. Books, paintings, sculpture, antiquities from around the world, exotic stone and woods, a huge collection of clocks… Clocks? Why yes, 400 of them by some accounts. And as we recall, this was still the 18^th century; clocks were still a relatively new field, which was being fully exploited as art only relatively recently. The great quantities of books and manuscripts, with all of the cataloging issues which are entailed, required there to be employees to take care of all of these items. The main one, until his death in 1779, was Royal Librarian Phillip Georg Bader, who, like many of the Prince's employees, was talented in more than one area. He was the author of the libretto for our marionette opera, Philemon und Baucis, for example, and probably also for its introductory work, Der Götterath, as well as the lost marionette opera Dido. So, a valuable man who would need an equally valuable replacement.

I can imagine a bit of surprise on Haydn's part when, in 1780, he made his daily way to the rehearsal hall and saw, sitting next to Kraft in the cello section, a man in the habit of the Barmherzige Brüder (Brothers of Mercy). The new Librarian / Chaplain / Cellist / Clockmaker, Father Joseph Primitivus Niemecz (1750-1806), reporting for duty! Quite a list of duties, but apparently Haydn wasn't the only genius in the employ of the Prince. Niemecz, a Bohemian from near Prague, was obviously talented in many fields: Priest and monk, librarian, of course, and also author of the well-known 1784 book which introduced the finally-completed Eszterháza estate to Europe, Beschreibung des Schloss Esterház. He was also a highly skilled player on the keyboard, harp, cello, violin, viola da gamba and baryton. But apparently these were merely diversions, for his real genius lay in mechanics. Especially clocks and mechanical musical instruments.

Music roll; pins played short notes, staples played longer ones

Mechanical musical instruments have an amazingly long history, particularly mechanical organs. When we hear today about 'clockwork instruments', it is probable that most people think of music boxes or cuckoo clocks, or at best, player pianos and the like. But the reality is far different. The original organs go back to at least the 17^th century BCE. There was never a time when interest in this instrument was lost, and through the highs and lows of mechanical advancement, the organ went along for the ride. By the 18^th century, there was a thriving industry in Southern Bavaria, centered on the Augsburg area, making mechanical organs as the musical component of a variety of arts and crafts objects. Between the years 1776-78, a Benedictine monk, Dom Bedos de Celles, published a four volume history of organ making, one volume of which recapped the state-of-the-art in mechanical organ making. This book is so fine that it is still coveted today, not as a collector's item but as a handbook, by mechanical instrument makers!

Let's talk for a moment about Flötenuhren. When we hear the term 'clockwork' we tend to think immediately of those old-fashioned, analog clocks and watches. This is true to a point, since they, too ran on a system of meshed wheels, gears, pinions and levers, the aim being to regulate the power between a source and something driven. The difference arises in the idea that it is just the hands of a clock which matter to the effect. In fact, a clock is called such because it is driven by a clockwork, but the inverse doesn't necessarily hold true; a clockwork can also drive any number of other things. In this case, it drives a little bellows to provide air to the organ pipes, and a motor which turns the wheel the music is on. Whether there is any actual timepiece involved is strictly optional.

View of the underside, showing the organ pipes.
The bellows and air chamber are right atop them

So this brings us up to Haydn and Niemecz. It would have taken extraordinary circumstances for these two not to become fast friends, and in the event, they did. Niemecz played the continuo cello parts at all the opera performances and there are numerous mentions of him, sitting right next to Haydn, who also played the continuo, now on his new Walter fortepiano. Haydn eventually began giving him lessons in composition and harmony. This situation continued throughout the 1780's, both attending to their respective duties, with Niemecz all the while working on his mechanical clockwork machines. In 1786, Matthias Korabinsky, in his encyclopedia published in Pressburg, tells in his "Eszterháza and Eisenstadt" articles about Niemecz' burgeoning output of musical items including a spinning-wheel, chair, pocket watch, chessboard and several others, not least of which is a clockwork tableau with the naked figures of Adam and Eve combined with fountains and other waterworks in a large room of the palace in Eisenstadt!

Haydn always had displayed an interest in the more unusual aspects of performance art. Witness his marionette theater, which he had got before Nicholas got one, and which he once loaned to Maria Theresia for a performance in Schönbrunn in 1777. And not to mention yet again, the marvelous works for lira organizzate which was, itself, a semi-automated instrument which shared many features with the Flötenuhr. So, since Haydn was already predisposed towards mechanical instruments, and had a close relationship with Niemecz, it should come as no surprise to discover him composing some music specifically for the instrument. It is believed that the collaboration extended further than simply writing music, though, problems such as length of each piece and work within the compass of the instrument were precisely the thing Haydn would have enjoyed. 

Let's look at the instruments themselves for a moment. There are three specifically Haydn/Niemecz collaborations still extant, although no doubt there were more. Of these, the one of interest now is N^o. 1, long thought to have been built in 1772, but which has clearly been proved to be from c. 1789. The other two are from 1792 and 1793 respectively, and are signed and dated, while N^o. 1 has neither signature nor date. We won't discuss the other two until later on, except to say that between the three of them, there are 40 tunes, all by Haydn, and that ten of them are duplicated between the three, leaving a total of thirty different tunes. There are extant manuscripts for two others, preserved by Artaria and now in the Geselschaft der Musikfreunde collection in Vienna, but the machines themselves appear to no longer exist. N^o. 1 has twenty-five pipes in a range of c¹ to d³ and the roll is pinned to play sixteen tunes. N^o. 2 & 3 play only twelve tunes each, for reasons we shall discuss in 1792.

For reasons I don't quite understand, there is some controversy about these pieces in scholarly circles. Landon accepts them without reserve, but Feder, in The New Grove Haydn, calls a few of them 'dubious', and seems loathe to accept arrangements of other Haydn works, even in his own handwriting, as genuine Flötenuhrstücke. I have no such reservations, and neither should you! In his tour-de-force book, Joseph Haydn and the Mechanical Organ, Arthur W.J.G. Ord-Hume* gives a full accounting of the origins of each piece and the locations and provenance of the autograph sheets. While the actual date of composition may be still in question, I think it is fair to divide these works into two groups; the first sixteen which are on the 1789 clock, one of which, #16, has a dated autograph of 1789. The second group and more information about clocks 2 & 3 will come up in 1792.

If you are wanting to hear these pieces today, I won't say you will not do so on a real Flötenuhr. They have been recorded from the originals, but not released as a commercial recording. I am not positive, but my inference is they are in a museum or two, along with at least one of the clocks (#3). Clock #1 is in private hands, and Clock #2 was purchased after WW II by an anonymous buyer and has not been seen again. Fortunately, all the information about it, including the music and workings, and photographs, were collected in the 1920's and '30's by Alfred Schnerich and Ernst Franz Schmid, who published all their findings in a rather obscure, German-language book which is a treasure for Haydnists. Ord-Hume's book, published in 1982, the year of Haydn's 250^th birthday, is a far more ambitious effort though, and has yet to be surpassed in the scholarly field. I highly recommend it for those who are interested in the more arcane side of your favorite composer!

And if you aren't going to hear them on a Flötenuhr, what then? Perhaps every bit as rare as a recording of an original is this CD which was given me as a gift a few years ago by a friend in Liechtenstein who found it in a second-hand shop in Vaduz and recognized a treasure looking for an owner! It is not an original Flötenuhr, but a very close relative, called today a 'barrel organ', this one originating in Altdorf, Switzerland. It also demonstrates the many uses for a mechanical organ other than as timepiece. It is a splendid garden ornament. One of the things you will hear in these samples is the speed which the pieces are played. The timings are exactly the same as the originals. Try THAT on an organ! 

Hob 19_02 Piece for Laufwerk #2

Hob 19_08 Piece for Laufwerk #8

Hob 19_16 Piece for Laufwerk #16

Hob 19_16 Stücke für eine Flötenuhr

The last is on an organ, from the disk pictured.

Speaking of which, an organ is the other medium on which you can hear these works. There are several nice recordings, a few of them have all the works, mostly there are a few, here and there with other organ music. This one is particularly nice.

I invite anyone who has more information, or pictures or recordings, to please let me know about them. The more I read about these neat little items, the more attractive they become!

Next time, we will look at 1790; one of the most eventful years in Haydn's entire life!

Thanks for reading!

*1982 - University College Cardiff Press
ISBN - 0 906449 37 5

All B&W photos in this essay are taken from this book, Copyright 1982 Arthur W.J.G Ord-Hume

1789 – The Music part 2 - Keyboard: Back at last!

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].

 

Artaria's original title page

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.

(click picture to enlarge)

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 18^th 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 18^th 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.

 

From Artaria's original score

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 19^th century!

Next time, some of those oddities,

Thanks for Reading!

* Robert L. Marshall, 2003 by Routledge (ISBN 0-415-96642-6)