Haydn Seek

1794 – The Year part 2 - Time flew - Could it be just 3 weeks?

 

Haydn, 20 March, 1794 (Version B)
George Dance the Younger

Looking back from a 21^st century perspective, it is often difficult to relate to the sensation Haydn caused in London, especially in 1794. The only modern equivalent is pop music, but even that doesn't quite work, since 'pop[ular]' really is aimed at being a musica populum, while art music in the 18^th century had yet to make an attempt in that direction. The fact that the three symphonies of this season accomplished this goal is a direct reflection of Haydn's particular genius for using music to speak for him. His mastery of the concept of rhetoric in music was completely congruent with 18^th century ideas about what music was and how they listened to it.

We have already seen the great approbation brought on by the première of the E flat symphony at the opening concert of the year. What about the other two? They both debuted in March of this year, and will give us a chance to see what a sensation really is!

By late February, Haydn was all settled in at his new, posh digs at N^o. 1 Bury St., close by to the Prince of Wales at Carlton House, St. James Palace, and a mere ten minutes walk from Becky Schroeder's house. Even though Haydn didn't see fit to transcribe all or any of Rebecca's notes this trip, there is absolutely no reason to believe their, ummm, friendship didn't continue as before. And some reasons to believe it did, as we shall see. So all told, the stage was set, the competition defeated, it was time to get to work.

One of the many reasons for the great success of Mozart's Die Entführung aus dem Serail, was the role of 'Osmin' having been taken by the great bass singer, Ludwig Fischer. Mozart was delighted with Fischer's vocal prowess; he added a major aria to the first act of Die Entführung, Solche hergelauf'ne Laffen, explaining to his father by letter (26 September 1781) that "one must make good use of such a man"; and adding "the new aria would provide an opportunity for Fischer's 'beautiful low notes' to glow."

By 1794, Fischer had left Vienna and was touring major cities. This was his first time in London (though not his last), so he came as something of a surprise to the natives, once they discovered he really was the greatest bass singer of his time, it wasn't just advertising hype. He arrived in London in time for Concert Three on 24 February, and was a runaway hit. So now, with Haydn, Fischer, Viotti, Dussek, Mara, Salomon and Harrington on oboe, along with the abundance of Paris' refugees, all the pieces are in place for what will be perhaps the finest concert season in London to date, or for years to come.

    The Oracle, The Public Advertiser, The Morning Chronicle, &c. 3 March

The Subscribers are respectfully acquainted, that the Fourth Performance will be THIS EVENING:

Part I
Overture, Kozeluck [sic]

Aria, Madame Ducrest, [by] Zingarelli
(Madame Mara continuing still indisposed)

New Concerto, Oboe, Mr. Harrington

Aria, Mr. Fischer, [by] Righini

Concerto, Piano Forte, Mr. Dussek

Part II
New Grand Overture (M.S.) Haydn

Cavatina, Madame Ducrest, [by] Sarti

Concerto Violin, Mr. Viotti

Duetto, Madame Ducrest , and Mr. Fischer, [by] Ferrari

Finale, Chaconna, [by] Fiorillo

Looks like a pretty nice evening out for the 'Nobility and Gentry', and by all accounts it was a good time enjoyed by all. The review in the 'paper was rather more than positive about the entire thing, doting on Mr. Harrington's oboe, Viotti's superb violin and Mr. Fischer's dexterous voice. When we come to the pièce de résistance, however, the ooh's and aah's are right off the scale:

    The Morning Chronicle, 5 March

… But as usual, the most delicious part of the entertainment was a new grand Overture by Haydn ; the inexhaustible, the wonderful, the sublime Haydn! The first two movements were encored ; and the character that pervaded the whole composition was heartfelt joy. Every new overture he writes, we fear, till it is heard, he can only repeat himself ; and we are every time mistaken. Nothing can be more original than the subject of the first movement ; and having found a happy subject, no man knows like Haydn how to produce incessant variety, without once departing from it. The managements of the accompaniments of the Andante, though perfectly simple, was masterly ; we never heard a more charming effect than was produced by the trio to the minuet. – It was Haydn ; what can we, what need we say more?

    The Oracle, 10 March

Haydn, like Virgil's fame, vires acquirit eundo (gets stronger as it goes along), has latterly written a symphony, which the connoisseurs admit to be his best work.

A palpable hit, it would seem. And even though he is now nearly two years older than in his last full season here, there is no mention now of the old man who has written himself out. What was this magical work?

Way back in 1775, we looked at a Symphony in Bb, N^o. 68, in which Haydn wrote a very long slow movement, Adagio cantabile, where he experimented for extended sections with developing an ostinato in the accompaniment which gave a definite character to the movement. Now, nearly twenty years later, he revisited this idea in the Andante which gave the name to one of his finest works; The Clock Symphony.

I love this, even though (or because?) it is the
worst album cover I've ever seen:
Nasal polyps be damned!!

There has been some philosophical discussion within the last few decades (Charles Rosen, Calvin Stapert, David Schroeder &c.) which hearteningly demonstrates a newfound appreciation for an 18^th century listening ethos. In this particular case, for example, the simplest means, the ticking of a clock, may very well stand for something a lot more profound than simply an ostinato bass accompaniment. And indeed, a lot of time had passed for Haydn, of which no one was more aware then he, having now reached an age when losing friends had become almost routine. We frequently read of Haydn's perpetually cheery outlook, which he himself confirms when discussing his late Theresienmesse. He defended the cheeriness of the Dona Nobis Pacem section, the words of which mean "grant us peace", which he set in a rather celebratory way compared to the settings of most composers. When asked why he often set the Dona this way in his masses, he replied, "because, when I think of God, it makes me happy." Even if you or I do (or don't) share this outlook, it would be doing a disservice to ourselves and to Haydn to ignore the fact that he was a True Believer. Which brings us back to the philosophical thought of Haydn meaning the use of the clock motif in a symbolic yet very real way, to represent the Tempus fugit reality of life. And the fact that it is cheerful nonetheless, is the very essence of Haydn, long-lived child of the Enlightenment, which was also winding down in a most unmistakable way by 1794.

Ah, that's better!

There is more to this symphony in D than just its Andante though; many musicologists just take that in passing, while moving on to the bigger ideas Haydn had developed during his Eisenstadt sabbatical. Apparently, one of the things which Haydn decided during his first trip to London was that the audience was quite well educated. Despite the abundance of extracurricular activity, and the social aspects of attending the concerts, there were a surprising number of connoisseurs, Kenner, and cognoscenti who really understood what was happening inside the music. If you know the code words and phrases of such things, then the newspaper articles and reviews hit all the right notes in terms of "sublime" and "tragedy and pathos" to have shown Haydn that this was so. And so, when he returned with a complete symphony and two more partially completed and sketched out, the first two, now called N^o.'s 99 & 101, are both very much in the vein of 'learned'.

One of the things we learn from the review above about our Morning Chronicle reviewer: his lack of any mention of the finale of this work demonstrates that in fact, he didn't get it. And right after I said he would! In N^o. 101, we are presented with the longest introduction of any symphony to date. Up to now, in the symphonies with introductions, Haydn has been presenting us with thematic material early on, which is then developed during the course of the first movement. So he has spent several years creating expectations which can easily be justified by history. When this work arrives with an extended introduction, then, we have every right to expect to hear these themes again in the Presto. So what do we get? Not a note, not a figure, not a rhythm, nothing which can be traced back to the intro. Expectations dashed, a Haydn hallmark if there ever was one! OK, maybe he decided to move it back to the second movement, that rascal. But no, the second movement is just that damned 'ticky-tocky' thing, great in its own way but unrelated to the introduction for certain. Alright then, the minuet for sure. And sure enough, there it is, the little theme that drove the introduction. If we recall, the minuet was the movement which was already known to be complete when Haydn arrived in London. So in fact, the theme didn't carry forward TO the minuet, it went backward FROM the minuet! And maybe this was what gave Haydn the idea to begin with. But as it turns out, it isn't the minuet which will satisfy the need for logical completion; it is the finale, one of the finest finales of any of the London symphonies. Here, we not only find a full development of the intro theme, but also a big expansion of the rhythmic disruption and imbalance which we first heard in the intro. In short, everything which we had convinced ourselves we would hear in the first movement was saved for the last. I have pointed out several times along the journey how Haydn started very early in his career to try and shift the balance of a multi-movement work from the beginning towards the end; now, it seems, he had finally succeeded in establishing parity.

There were repeats of this symphony at the next few concerts. It excited greater interest and understanding of itself every time played. Shortly after Concert Seven, on March 24, this little blurb appeared in the Journal des Luxus und der Moden, a Weimar arts journal:

…but what would you now say to his new symphonies composed expressly for these concerts, and directed by himself at the piano? It is truly wonderful what sublime and august thoughts this master weaves into his works. Passages often occur which render it impossible to listen to them without becoming excited. We are altogether carried away by admiration, and forced to applaud with hand and mouth. …

In every symphony of Haydn, the Adagio or Andante is sure to be repeated every time, after the most vehement encores. The worthy Haydn, whose personal acquaintance I highly value, conducts himself at these times in the most modest manner. He is indeed a good-hearted, candid and honest man, esteemed and beloved by all. [translation from Hadden]

I like to look back, as Haydn himself might have done, to the scurrilous rhetoric heaped upon him twenty years and more earlier, from the 'Berlin Gentlemen', and reflect that so far down the road, they finally seem to have caught up with him.

Known mainly as an artist, Angelika Kaufmann also played the Armonica

We saw above the appearance of Ludwig Fischer, a name which will be forever associated with Mozart, the creator of 'Osmin' and composer of the Scena de concert in f minor, K 421a, Così dunque tradisci / Aspri rimorsi. Now in Concert Six, on 17 March, we are treated with yet another performer who is remembered more for association with Mozart than for her own talent, prodigious though it may have been.

Marianne Kirchgeßner (Kirchgessner) met Mozart in 1791, in the summer before his death. Intrigued with the possibilities of the Glass Harmonica she played, although certainly not to the degree that Haydn was with instrumental oddities, he produced what is probably the finest piece of music ever written for it, K 617, the Adagio & Rondo in c & C for Glass Armonica, Flute, Oboe, Viola & Cello. As well, he wrote a solo work for it, K 617a the Adagio in C for Glass Armonica. Kirchgeßner was now touring Europe featuring these and other works, something she would do for the rest of her life.

    The Morning Chronicle, 17 March

The subscribers are respectfully acquainted, that the Sixth Performance will be on Monday next, the 17^th instant.

Part I

Overture, Piehl (Pichl)

Song, Mr. Florio

Concerto, Violoncello, Mr. Damen, jun.

Aria, Madame Mara

Terzetto, Madame Mara, Mr. Florio and Mr. Fischer

Part II

Grand Overture (M.S.) Haydn; (The Clock redux)

Aria, Mr. Fischer

Quintetto on the [Glass] Armonica, Mademoiselle Kirashgessner [sic],
(being her first appearance in this Country)

Cavatina, Madame Mara

Finale

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

    The Morning Chronicle, 18 March

…novelty of the evening was the performance of Mademoiselle Kirch Gessner [sic] on the Harmonica. Her taste is chastened, and the dulcet notes of the instrument would be delightful indeed, were they more powerful and articulate ; but that, we believe, the most perfect execution cannot make them. In a smaller room, and an audience less numerous, the effect must be enchanting …

K 617 sample

Thomas Bloch on Armonica
The benefits of microphones are apparent!

If Marianne had spoken to Haydn first, she would have known to use two or three forte chords at the beginning as a noise-killer… however, she did end up well, since she took a small room and gave daily performances to small groups, where the haunting beauty of the Benjamin Franklin Armonica could show its stuff.

George Dance the Younger
by George Henry Harlow 1814

George Dance the Younger was one of the finest architects produced by England in the 18^th century. The son of an architect, he became one of the four founding members of the Royal Academy in 1768. A proponent of true Neoclassical Style, yet with a bit of Italianate flair, his buildings were popular well beyond his homeland. In addition to his work, Dance employed his drawing skills for his pleasure, which was the making of pencil portraits of prominent people of his time. It is not certain that Haydn paid him more than one visit, although it is likely, since there are two versions of this famous drawing. The finished one above (Version B) is most certainly the one which Haydn sat for just a few days after the Kirchgeßner concert. Version A, shown at bottom, is almost certainly a first draft. Version B hangs today at the Royal Society of Musicians. Haydn claimed it was the best of all portraits of him. Salomon also had a portrait done by Dance, it is dated 19 June 1794, so it seems likely he saw Haydn's portrait and decided on one of his own.

And so, we aren't even done with March yet, the best is yet to come. Hard to imagine! Next time the dogs of war are loosed. Figuratively, of course.

Thanks for reading!

	Joseph Haydn undated, but probably before 20 March 1794 George Dance the Younger (Version A)
	Johann Salomon 19 June 1794 George Dance the Younger

1794 – The Year part 1 - Never missed a beat!

Panorama of London from the roof of the Albion Mills - Robert Barker panel 3 of 6
It wasn't all Big City...

Haydn would be 62 years of age at the end of March, 1794. Some argued he was too old to work and travel. None of them knew him, as we shall see shortly. Life expectancy at the time ranged from 65 to 80 (that is, if you were among those who managed to reach 21), so if he wasn't old, he could see old age pending from where he stood! Relevance? In early January, Prince Anton Esterházy argued quite vociferously against Haydn making another London journey. Of course, age wasn't the only factor; the situation with France hadn't improved very much, either. Travel through the West to England was simply too dangerous. But in the end, Haydn's sense of duty, his promise to Salomon writ large, prevailed over caution, and maybe good sense. So, the morning of 19 January saw him, along with his brilliant copyist, Johann Elssler, doubling as valet, climbing into the very comfortable long-distance travel coach provided by Baron van Swieten, and heading for Calais yet again.

Frontispiece from 'The Abate Metastasio' by Charles Burney

Haydn's trunk for the trip was not nearly as empty as it would have been if he had indeed gone a year earlier. For a certainty, he had Keyboard Trio in G, Hob. 15:32, and very likely he also had at least the outlines, if not the fully completed compositions, of Hob 15:18-20. Symphony N^o. 99 was complete, and the minuets (and possibly the sketched outlines) of N^o.'s 101 & 100. The six London Quartets which we saw last time were complete, and also the Piccolo divertimento (Hob. 17:6) for keyboard. Finally, to complete a promise to Dr. Burney, the very best portrait prints available in Vienna of Metastasio, one of which would serve as the frontispiece for the biography Burney was writing. So, time to make some music!

Getting there, as it turned out, was relatively uneventful. They avoided places like Bonn, which were still potential hotspots. Haydn told Dies about staying the night in Wiesbaden. From his room, Haydn heard someone playing the Andante from the Surprise symphony on the pianoforte. Figuring the player would be well-disposed towards him, he found a group of Prussian officers whom he engaged in discussion. Finding they were great admirers of his music, he introduced himself. They refused to believe he was really Haydn, saying "impossible, you are too old to be Haydn, there is too much fire in your music". Finally he had to show them a letter he had with him, from their King, Friedrich Wilhelm. That was the convincer, and they all became great friends, sitting up past midnight playing music. So we see here, profoundly illustrated, the dichotomy which still baffled the English as well as those at home: how can someone of such apparent age simply continue to write music like a thirty-year-old?

Who knows? This may well have happened on the night of another major change in Haydn's life. A mere three nights after he left Vienna, Haydn unknowingly became the employee of yet a fourth Esterházy prince.

 The Wiener Zeitung, 25 January:

On the 22^nd inst. died here in his 56^th year of his age, from the sudden bursting of a pus sack in his rib cage, Anton Prince of the Holy Rom. Emp. Esterházy von Galantha, Lord of Forchtenstein, Knight of the Golden Fleece, and of the Grand Cross of St. Stephan… &c &c &c… The body will be conveyed to the princely Esterházy family vault at Eisenstadt.

What sort of irony derives from yet another close acquaintance of Haydn, like Mozart, preceding him in death so suddenly? Of all of the Princes of Esterházy, now going on four, for whom Haydn worked, Anton is the one, closest in age, who seems to have actually had a personal interest in him, beyond whatever accrued from employing the world-famous composer. Not that there is any documentary evidence of that, it is just an impression from reading what there is to read about the two of them, it seems like friendliness and mutual respect. It must have been a shock on arrival in London to discover this totally unexpected event.

What else may have been shocking, just a year and a half after leaving? Probably the single biggest thing, since it affected the success of the entire series, came in this announcement, released while Haydn was on the road still:

The Oracle, 25 January, 1794 in the column CONCERTS, SINGERS &c.

The Professional is dropt, - in consequence Salomon will be entirely unopposed until after Easter, when the promised Concert at the Opera House will be given.

    Thus, the Hanover Square will have had ten nights performance completely unrivalled. Haydn is to be at the Piano Forte, and every nerve is to be exerted to leave an impression deeper than ever of this excellent band. [snip]

    The Doctor has been writing with all his original fancy and fertile combination; and the present winter will perhaps give us works, which shall advance even the higher celebrity of Haydn.

    Viotti has been selecting some fine thoughts for his concerto playing, which for sublimity and simplicity is unequalled – Duetti, so much admired between Salomon and himself, will of course be pursued…

Well, isn't this special!? The 1792 season, which had cost them a fortune to enlist musicians like Pleyel, had been the tipping point for financial stability for the Professional Concerts. Even with Haydn stuck in Vienna in 1793, that year hadn't gone well either. Cramer had attempted to persuade Salomon into an alliance, but possibly remembering the times a few years earlier when the shoe was on the other foot, Salomon declined to be a savior. It was generally recognized at this point that with Haydn and all his new and recent works in hand, Salomon had the advantage over any other concert promotion in London. In addition, Salomon was a smart businessman, and he understood that with the financial cycle on the downturn, he needed to cut costs, which he did by hiring many of the excellent, displaced foreign musicians who were swelling the ranks of London's musical rolls, and at discount prices. Meantime, even with Cramer's outfit struggling, he kept his longtime orchestral musicians, who adamantly refused to bow to reality and take a pay cut. After attempts to align with the King's Theater fell through, Cramer had no choice but to call it quits. Salomon now had a clear field, which he promptly demonstrated by moving the series from the Friday night doldrums to the choice spot on Monday night. Now, if only Haydn would show up!

Aside from the music business, there have been a few other changes. Many have to do with the events in France which we have been looking at recently. Hard to know exactly what people looking back now at those times might have expected in terms of favor or opposition to the Reign of Terror, in fact many of Haydn's friends were quite split on the matter. Burney, an ardent Royalist, wrote "is this the end of the 18^th cent., so enlightened & so philosophical? And To shake hands with chimney sweeps, coal-heavers, churls, clodpolls, soldiers & sailors & assure them that they are our true sovereigns," no. Not going to happen. William Shield, another prominent composer and Haydnfreunde, whom we met last time while discussing the Handel Festival, was of a different mind. He wrote to a friend "I thought it degraded the race of men too much to suffer them to carry me in a sedan [chair] over this immense mountain: in consequence of which we had mules; and after riding about a mile, reflection told me I was shortening the life of the animal… and as I saw women walking I resolved to do the same". This philosophical difference between two of Haydn's best friends says more to me than anything else about how the end of the 18^th century brought also the end of The Enlightenment and is an obvious precursor of the social upheaval which would follow in the 19^th, and even the 20^th, centuries.

A London Corresponding Society, alarm'd...
by James Gillray (1798)

Here, James Gillray, pioneering political cartoonist we met earlier, captured a scene right out of Charlotte Papendiek's journal. We learn from the irrepressible Mrs. Papendiek how the people at large were grappling with the power of the King and reacting to the ideas being presented from across the Channel:

In almost every town and borough societies were formed, against government authority, of different ranks and classes of people. In London some of these meetings were called 'Debating Societies', [or] 'Corresponding Societies', 'Nights of the People', &c… [and so] The militia was embodied, attendance was required for practice a given number of days in each month, and they were kept in constant military order so as to be also ready [on] call if required.

Other friends of Haydn were equally adamant, on one side or the other, and so it could well have made for some uncomfortable moments for Haydn, who now spoke enough English to have been aware of the friction in midst of a debate, if indeed such would occur. Perhaps he would be wise enough to not mix Shield and Lord Abingdon into the same party as Burney and Stephen Storace! I don't see Haydn as heavily political, at least not in some other country's affairs. But I do see him as torn in his beliefs. He was unabashedly a man of the people, he was proud to be the son of a wheelwright from Rohrau and most comfortable, as he said, in the presence of his peers. On the other hand, he was intensely loyal to his Prince and Emperor, and favored civil order. So like all of us, if pressed he would have had some hard choices to make. Fortunately, history spared him that. Unlike Parson Woodforde, great friend of Burney, who managed to unite great international affairs with daily life and dreadfully accurate prophecy in a most unique way in his diary;

Dinner today Souse, Veal Pye and Calf's Heart, ro[a]sted. Billy Bidwell's people brought our newspaper from Norwich. The King of France, Louis 16 inhumanly and unjustly beheaded on Monday last by his cruel, bloodthirsty subjects. Dreadful times I am afraid are approaching to all Europe.

So it is against this background that one of the most successful years of concertizing is set.

News release, in all the 'papers between 31 January and 3 February:

Mr. Salomon most respectfully acquaints the Nobility and Gentry, that Dr. Haydn's and Mr. Fischer's arrival in this country having been unexpectedly retarded, he has by the advice of many respectable friends been induced to postpone the opening of his Concerts from Monday next [the 3^rd] to Monday se'nnight the 10^th of February, when the performance positively will take place.

Drat! Clearly Haydn was on the slow coach to Calais, comfortable or not. However, the wait was soon over;

The Oracle, 6 February:
The celebrated Haydn's arrival was yesterday announced in the musical circles.

Followed in short by this general announcement in all the 'papers;

The Oracle, 8 February:
Mr. Salomon most respectfully acquaints the Nobility and Gentry, that his First Concert will be on Monday next, the 10^th instant.

Part I

Grand Overture, Rosetti
Aria, Mr. Florio, jun.
(being his first performance
at these concerts)
New Concerto, Piano Forte, Mr. Dussek
Scena, Madame Mara

Part II

New Grand Overture, Haydn
Aria, Madame Mara
New Concerto, Violin, Signor Viotti
Scena and Duetto, Madame Mara and Mr. Florio
Finale

    Dr. Haydn will direct his composition at the Piano Forte.
    Leader of the Band - Mr. Salomon
    N.B. Mr. Salomon is extremely sorry, that Mr. Fischer is not arrived yet ; but he flatters himself that nothing will prevent his performing at the next concert…

Giovanni Battista Viotti

Some familiar names on the list, and some unfamiliar ones too. We see Madame Mara, the erstwhile star of the Professionals, now come over to Salomon. We will be looking at her, and  others of these singing ladies soon. Dussek is back, not having lost an iota of popularity. The new Big Name (for us anyway) is 'Signor Viotti'. If you aren't familiar with Viotti's most famous works, the 29 violin concertos, you owe it to yourself to have a listen. From 1785 to 1800, he was perhaps the leading composer in the genre. In later life he would go on to be considered the founder of the French Violin School, the preeminent musical flavor of the 19^th century. But for now, he was just another refugee from the Reign of Terror. He had gone to France from Italy in 1782 to play at the Concert Spirituel, and ended up at Versailles as the violinist of the Royals. Even though he left there to become an opera impresario in 1788, there was absolutely nothing to be gained by betting that people had forgotten his past association with the King, and so in 1792 he went to London. In 1793, when Haydn couldn't make it from Vienna, he served as Musical Director of the Salomon Concerts, and now, he shared those duties with Haydn. It was an extremely amicable relationship, Viotti was the perfect foil for the other stars of the show.

The Morning Chronicle, 11 February
This superb concert was opened last night for the season, and with such an assemblage of talents as to make it a rich treat to the amateur. The incomparable Haydn produced a new Overture of which it is impossible to speak in common terms. It is one of the grandest efforts of the art that we have ever witnessed. It abounds with ideas, as new in music as they are grand and impressive ; it rouses and affects every emotion of the soul. – It was received with rapturous applause.

    Viotti produced a new Concerto, in which his own execution was most delicate and touching ; nothing could be more exquisite than his tones in the second movement. We have no doubt that both these pieces will be called for again ; for they are to be ranked among the finest productions of which music has to boast.

    Dussek had also a new concerto upon the piano forte, in his best manner ; and Madame Mara sung divinely.

Symphony 99 in E-flat major (London: for the proprietor, undated).
Part for first violin. Printed for Salomon himself, one of the earliest orchestral parts.

So apparently, it was liked. The 'New Grand Overture' was N^o.99 in Eb, which other adjectives piled onto it included "most exquisite, rich, fanciful, bold and impressive". One thing which Salomon had improved since 1792 was his instrumental forces. Since the Eb symphony was already complete when Haydn arrived in 1794, he and Salomon must have had enough communication between them to have set Haydn up with his first symphony with clarinets! And the key of Eb really allows Haydn to maximize the instruments available. This was the first time he had composed a symphony in this key for a very large orchestra. Not just the clarinets, but 2 Flutes, Trumpets and Timpani. There is no doubt, this is a work which brought down the house!

February brought one more concert which we will mention here, this one on the 17^th brought a repeat of the "New Grand Overture", and also the first opportunity for London to hear one of the new London Quartets.

The Morning Chronicle, 19 February
[big snip] …but the richest part of the banquet, as usual, was due to the wonderful Haydn.
    His new quartetto gave pleasure by its variety, gaiety, and the fascination of its melody and harmony through all its movements : and the overture, being performed with increasing accuracy and effect, was received with increasing rapture. The first movement was encored : the effect of the wind instruments in the second movement was enchanting ; the hautboy and flute were finely in tune, but the bassoon was in every respect more perfect and delightful than we ever remember having heard a wind instrument before. In the minuets, the trio was peculiarly charming : but indeed the pleasure the whole gave was continual ; and the genius of Haydn, astonishing, inexhaustible and sublime, was the general theme.

So we are ready to move on. Bigger and better things? You bet; you ain't heard nothing yet!

Next time we will listen to an old idea made new again, and have a look at a little bit of London outside of Hanover Square.

Thanks for reading!

1793 – The Music part 2 - Recognition, really from home!

Hob 3#	Opus #	Key	New Grove Number	Instrument(s)	Notes
69	71 #1	Bb	54	2 Violins, Viola & Cello	The first two were begun in 1792 and Haydn changed the dates on the manuscripts to 1793, most likely so all would be the same. The dedication to Count Apponyi came later, when they were published.
70	71 #2	D	55
71	71 #3	Eb	56
72	74 #1	C	57
73	74 #2	F	58
74	74 #3	g	59

Old engraving of Haydn Monument in Count Harrach's original setting

It is one thing to sit here, as a writer/researcher, and complain to my audience how there is no information available about some less well-known bit or piece Haydn wrote. Many times I am delighted to just have a recording to listen to, and a mention in some book or other which gives me at least a vague idea about when it was composed. But it is something else again when the piece(s) in question include some of Haydn's finest late quartets, all of which comes together as something of a mystery here.

And indeed, this is the case with the London Quartets, which I shall call them to avoid the clumsy and misleading 'Opuses 71/74' name. I don't blame musicology in general, it really seems as though there is little or no documentation about their origins, or Haydn's thoughts on them. Landon tells us that Haydn wrote them as a set of six, in the summer of 1793, while he was on a trip to Eisenstadt with Beethoven and the young Polzelli. And now I've told you everything there is to tell about the creation history of the London Quartets.

This, however, doesn't cover the entire literature about these works. About 98% of what you can find is descriptions and evaluations of how Haydn changed his style to suit the London audience. Which begs the question: why would the generally acknowledged greatest composer of quartets want to change his style?

In his book, Concert Life in London from Mozart to Haydn, Simon McVeigh informs us that we shouldn't be deceived into the idea that London was just adopting and adapting its preferences from other places. String Quartets were listed in publishers' catalogs right alongside symphonies, as music for professionals to play at concerts. Where else do you find that? And as we saw in an earlier essay in this series, a French style of quartet, the quatuor brillant, achieved the highest popularity. The New Grove describes it like this:

The early 1780s were watershed years for the quartet. In 1782 Viotti arrived in Paris, where he introduced the quatuor brillant, which largely supplanted the quatuor concertant; essentially an accompanied solo, the quatuor brillant style, already evident in some works by Sammartini, was characterized by passages of a purely mechanical brilliance and opportunities for concerto-like cadenzas. The influence of the quatuor brillant was widespread; even in Vienna during the 1780s and '90s this style was cultivated at times…

Doesn't sound much like Haydn, does it? The quartets played during the first trip were almost certainly from Opus 64. These works were the epitome of Haydn's Viennese style, conversational, virtuosic (but not "mechanically brilliant"!), nearly perfect in their symmetry and beauty. All of which made them ideal for the salon or drawing room, for which they were conceived. But for the large auditorium concert stage? Well, perhaps not so much. It should be noted that while the newspapers certainly didn't pan them, neither did they wax rhapsodic over them the way they did about the symphonies and specialty works like the Sinfonia concertante or The Storm.

Opus / Movement

I

II

III

IV

71 #1

Allegro

Bb

4/4

Adagio

F

6/8

Allegretto

Bb

3/4

Vivace

Bb

2/4

71 #2

Adagio – Allegro

D

4/4

Adagio cantabile

A

3/4

Allegro

D

3/4

Rondo: Allegretto – Allegro

D

6/8

71 #3

Vivace

Eb

2/4

Andante con moto

Bb

2/4

Menuet – Trio

Eb

3/4

Vivace

Eb

6/8

74 #1

Allegro

C

4/4

Andantino [grazioso]

G

3/8

Allegro

C – A

3/4

Vivace

C

2/4

74 #2

Allegro spiritoso

F

2/2

Andante grazioso

Bb

2/4

Menuet - Trio

F – Db

3/4

Presto

F

2/4

74 #3

Allegro

g - G

3/4

Largo assai

E

2/2

Allegretto

G – g

3/4

Allegro con brio

g - G

4/4

Does this mean Haydn suddenly was now turning out quatuors brillant? Hardly. I doubt he had it in him to write that sort of music. It would have been too great a compromise. But there is no doubt he made some special adaptations to the particular tastes he had observed in London on the first journey. And descriptions of these changes are what constitute, today, nearly all of whatever literature I have found on these works. The downside is this: unless you are a musician, theoretician or musicologist, not a whole lot of this is anything but pretty dry reading.

According to Laszlo Somfai, in his essay The London Revision of Haydn's Instrumental Style, the driving force behind Haydn's need to adopt, even if temporarily, some new style features stems from a compulsion which I have mentioned in these pages many times now: he always felt compelled to win the hearts of an imaginary audience, one he must have given considerable thought to while sitting in the seclusion of Eszterháza. And now, having already been to London and actually meeting and observing this foreign audience for the first time, he was prepared to dig in and put his observations to practical use.

Somfai points out what is, perhaps, one of the larger problems, certainly one which Haydn hadn't anticipated in 1790 in Vienna. I think it is fair to assume some measure of surprise when, in a far larger concert hall than he had dealt with before, on stage appeared a string quartet! What sort of sonic implications might that entail? One of the absolute hallmarks of Haydn's style until then had been the great dynamic changes, and especially in the quartets. Also, fast, highly articulated passages where the notes had to be detached from each other would lose their effect altogether in a large, reverberant acoustic. And for that matter, what about the audience itself? A thousand people packed into a room, not only coughing, talking and laughing, but even passively absorbing the sound. Clearly a challenge fit for a master to resolve!

Dem Andenken Joseph Haydn Des unsterblichen Meisters Der Tonkunst, Dem Ohr und Herz Wetteifernd huldigen, Gewidmet Von Karl Leonhard Graf von Harrach. Im Jahr 1793

1st Tablet: To the memory of Joseph Haydn The Deathless Master of the Art of Music, To whom Ear and Heart Are Contending to do Homage, Dedicated by Karl Leonhard Count von Harrach. In the Year 1793 ------------------------ 2nd Tablet: Rohrau Gave him life in the Year 1732 the 1st April Europe, undivided approval, The 31st May 1809 The Entrance to the Eternal Harmonies

And resolve it he did. As always, if this line is your particular interest, the answers are certainly available to you. For the historian, suffice to say that the part writing of very similar thematic material to what appears in Opus 64 is approached in an entirely different way, one which allows the solo instrument, whichever it may be, to be most expressive. Given the quality of the players, which Haydn knew, and especially of Salomon, it was a chance for them to shine. Which is exactly what the audience wanted in a quartet. Of course, the most famous aspect of these works was the addition of a "noise killer" introduction. One way this was achieved was by a single loud chord placed before the opening double-bar (thus not repeated), as in Opus 71 #3, or even two chords, as in Op 74 #1. These chords were not part of the theme music further on, they just said 'wake up'. But even more satisfying is where Haydn used chords which did become part of the main theme, so they were much more integrated into the music. Opus 74 #2 has one like this, and even more-so, Opus 74 #3, the most famous of the set, if only so for its sensational closing movement, called The Rider.

How much of a change in Haydn's overall style did this adaptation for London bring about? One would think there would be some sort of holdover as a result of the London experience. But we are stymied when we look for it in the symphonies, since obviously there are none after London, Haydn seemingly feeling he had said all he had to say in the genre. The very next quartets he wrote after London were Opus 76, where Haydn again reached a new level of composition. And the very first one of these, the wonderful G major, opens with three forte chords. Perhaps they were just a brief reminiscence of London. But after that, the remaining seven quartets he would write bear no trace of an elaborately worked out 'noise-killer' or any of the unique ideas so particular to success in London.

1793 is slowly winding to a close. While Haydn is busy in Vienna, getting cut off short by Elector Max Franz, and finding a new teacher for his pupil, Beethoven, who was now going to be left behind instead of going along to London, as well as supplying music for the dance season and yet another musical clock for Niemecz, a singular event was taking place, one which he would not learn of until his return from London two years hence.

This happened in far off Rohrau. Haydn hadn't seen his hometown since Mathias Haydn's passing in 1763. Count Karl Leonhard Harrach (1765–1831) was the present owner of the town and son of Count Karl Anton. Haydn's mother, Anna Maria Koller (1707–54), had, before her marriage to Mathias, been a cook at Harrach's castle.

Harrach, much later in a letter to Dies, explained that he wanted to redo the castle gardens in the English style, and he "thought it right and proper, and also honorable for my park, to erect a monument for the so-famous J. Haydn in the castle grounds which encompassed his birthplace. Haydn was then in England (NB - so circa 1791 or '92) and was but little known to me, and he had no idea of my undertaking; and it was not until two or three years later that he happened to hear that this monument in Rohrau existed…"

Harrach was a bit too modest about the park, which was on the River Leitha. The original setting of the monument was on an island he had created, which was planted with Italian Poplars, as can be seen in this old engraving at the top of the page. Even in Haydn's lifetime this monument became a popular tourist attraction: in 1800 even old French Count Zinzendorf, who had been a Haydn fan since he was hired by Prince Pal Anton in 1761, went all the way to Rohrau to see the monument! At some unspecified point in time (but possibly in 1887), the town of Rohrau took the monument and refurbished it, placing it in front of City Hall, where it can be seen today. We will talk more about this in future, when Haydn returns from the second London Journey. And that is where we will be going next time.

Thanks for reading!