1795 – The Year part 7 - Dr. Haydn's Exotic Music Revue

Hob. 15#	Genre	Key	Lan. No.	Instrument(s)	Notes
24	Accompanied Sonata	D	38	Pianoforte, Violin & Cello	Dedicated to Rebecca Schröter
25		G	39
26		f#	40
31		eb	41		'Jacob's Dream' - a gift for Therese Jansen Bartolozzi
Hob. 31a#	Genre		Complete Listing		Voice
101-150	Scottish National Song		Full information here		Voice w/Keyboard & continuo

 

Above: Hungarian Hussars with Gypsy musicians doing a Verbunkos	Below: Longman & Broderip original printing first line of pianoforte part of Rondo

Long ago and far away, I wrote an essay on one of Haydn's operas which looked at the idea of exoticism and how it dominated certain aspects of European art, most particularly during the Enlightenment. While L'incontro improvviso dealt with Muslims and leaned on the Viennese version of "Turkish Music", this was not the only form of exoticism Haydn used. By far the more prevalent was what he called 'Hungarian' or 'Gipsy' music, terms which he used interchangeably. In addition to the undoubted exposures which Haydn had to Gypsies and their music while 'Growing up Rohrau', we can also be sure of some other opportunities to hear this wonderfully stirring music. Gypsy musicians were employed by Haydn's patrons, the Esterházy family, for two purposes. They traveled from inn to inn with military recruiters, playing the Verbunkos or recruitment dance. They also were retained to play light entertainment music in the palace courtyard during the many parties which we saw back in the late 1760's and early 1770's. Some scholars have suggested that Haydn may have occasionally incorporated Gypsy musicians into his ensemble.

"Verbunkos" - New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians.

Before the Austro-Hungarian imperial army instituted conscription in 1849, recruiting presentations involving music were used in order to fill the ranks with Hungarian village recruits. About a dozen hussars (members of the Hungarian light cavalry), led by their sergeant, would be involved: first, the sergeant would dance slow and dignified figures (NB - the Lassú), then the subordinate officers would join in and the music and dancing became increasingly energetic, until finally the youngest soldiers engaged in virtuosic leaps and spur-clicking (NB - the Friss). The accompanying music was usually played by Gypsy musicians. Although the verbunkos is sometimes considered Gypsy music, it was actually Hungarian, often derived ultimately from the song repertory, but played in a fashion characteristic of the Gypsy musicians.

A very fine recording of the "Schröter Trios"

Although Grove doesn't mention it, it is a safe bet the village girls were standing by and watching, or maybe even joining in, and it was probably not unheard of for a skin of the local Tokay to be every bit as close by as the young ladies were! I often take Grove as gospel, but I quite disagree with their "actually Hungarian" statement. Even though Haydn used the terms "Gypsy Style" and "Hungarian Style" completely interchangeably, it is all Gypsy music. Authentic Hungarian folk music was not widely known until much later, when fieldwork was carried out by Béla Bartók and others. So even though Haydn was born in what was then a border town between Austria and Hungary, there is a certain rhythm and tonal quality to true Hungarian music which doesn't show up in Haydn's work. In addition, this exact same custom, the Recruitment Dance, which included the same idiom of music and dances, also prevailed in other parts of the Empire beyond Hungary, such as Romania, Transylvania and Croatia. It should be clarified that what Haydn used was all original Haydn music, not an adaptation of existing music. Even in cases where he took an existing theme, he didn't simply re-orchestrate an entire work, he wrote a new work based on a few measures of melody. When we look at Scottish Songs, Haydn was making arrangements and adaptations of existing tunes. That is not the case here. Charles Rosen, in The Classical Style, mentions the phenomenon of "reverse transmission", by which Haydn's [among others] catchiest tunes made their way out of their original venue and into the countryside to become firmly entrenched as popular music. Haydn himself pays tribute to this concept in The Seasons, where he has his Spring plowman whistling a theme from Symphony 104.

Here are a very few examples of some of the best known of Haydn's 'Gypsy Music' up to 1795:

• The minuet of String Quartet Hob 03:34 (Opus 20 #4) was marked by Haydn as Alla zingarese, which is Italian for "in the Gypsy style". This minuet has the interesting property of being written in 3/4 time, but sounding to the ear like 2/4.
• The Adagio 2^nd movement from the quartet Hob 03:57 (Opus 54 #2) is a Lassú, the slow introductory section of a Verbunkos.
• The finale of Keyboard Concerto in D, Hob 18:11, is marked Rondo all'ungherese. Haydn wrote a Balkan dance (Croatian?), a Siri Kolo, and called it Hungarian. It is played in a Gypsy style.
• Keyboard trio, Hob 15:25 in G, concludes with a movement that Haydn called (in the published Longman & Broderip English version above) "Rondo in the Gypsies' Stile".

Back in 1792, it seemed as though Rebecca Schroeter turned up on every other page. But since we have been back in London this time, she has been rather more conspicuous by her absence. It puts one onto the thought that maybe it was a rough breakup. But really, it is more of a question of keeping a low profile, it seems.

There is no shortage of fine
recordings: here's another!

Landon and others have speculated that there was no further need for passing notes, since Haydn now lived on Bury Street instead of Great Pulteney. But I used that modern treasure, Google Maps, to do some quick measurements and I found that the Bury Street digs are actually a few steps further on than Golden Square. So that doesn't hold water for me. I am more inclined to think that there are other forces at play; Haydn had his own manservant now, the brilliant copyist he had brought with him from Vienna, Johann Elssler. Elssler could have carried notes, and more securely in Haydn's mind than Becky's maid, perhaps. The other one is even more likely to me; Haydn actually spent most of his time at James Street, thus the need for note-passing was… passé.

No doubt there was still a spark being nourished, since one of the very last things Haydn completed (at least for publication purposes) before leaving London for good was the brilliant set of three trios which he dedicated to Rebecca. At least one of them (the one in f#) was completed earlier, since its inner movement served as the model for the slow movement of Symphony N^o. 102, composed by December 1794 or January, 1795, completed before the concert season began. As famous as this trio is, though, neither it nor any other of Haydn's Keyboard Trios can match the renown of its opus-mate, Hob. 15:25 in G, with the Gypsy finale! This trio, almost certainly is the most famous work (that isn't a symphony) to emerge from the London visits. I will speculate that this is so because Haydn, once again, had his finger on the pulse of what would intrigue his audience, as well as entertain his mistress.

Because the 18^th century was the age of real expansion of the Empire, there was an overwhelming fascination among the British with all things foreign. Art movements such as Orientalism held sway. India and what we now call the Near East (or Middle East) were subjects of tremendous fascination. So while Austria was fascinated with the Turks, England's scope was much wider. Part of that scope included the Roms, usually called Gypsies. Perhaps it is because they are reputedly a group which originated in India and went to Persia millennia earlier. In any case, what better way to appeal to this facet of his audience's culture than for Haydn to write the music he knew so well? Since the final concert season was over, Haydn's current interests had turned to Hausmusik. That's where the money was, after all. He was busily wrapping up all the musical loose ends, which included publishing his songs and trios. From the day of its publication by Longman & Broderip, the G major Trio was an instant hit, and it still is even today. I mention this in passing: it was the first Haydn trio I ever heard (Beaux Arts Trio), and if I were to count, it is the one I have the most recordings of. Like the Military Symphony and the Op 76 #2 quartet, it hooked me on an entire genre. So here, Dear Rebecca, this one is for you.

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The Dream of Jacob
Michael Willmann 1691

In 1794, probably around the time Haydn was communing with Therese Jansen and writing her two sonatas, he wrote a single movement accompanied piece for keyboard and violin, as we discover from Dies:

[From Joseph Haydn: 18^th century Gentleman & Genius by Vernon Gotwals]

[Dies: 27^th visit, 4 June 1807]

Haydn had already, during earlier visits, told me of an incident that finds a suitable place here. He was closely acquainted in London with a German musical amateur who had acquired a skill on the violin bordering on virtuosity, but who had the bad habit of always playing too close to the bridge in the highest tones. Haydn decided to try if possible to break the dilettante of his habit and give him a feeling for a solid manner of playing.

The dilettante often visited a Miss Jansen who played the pianoforte with great skill while he usually accompanied. Haydn wrote in perfect secrecy a sonata for the pianoforte with a violin accompaniment, entitled the sonata "Jacob's Dream," and sent it, sealed and unsigned, by a trusty hand to Miss Jansen, who likewise did not delay to try over the sonata, which appeared easy, in company with the dilettante. What Haydn had foreseen duly came to pass. The dilettante remained stuck in the highest registers, where most of his passages lay. Soon Miss Jansen suspected that the unknown composer intended to depict the ladder to heaven that Jacob saw in his dream and then noticed how the dilettante now ponderously, uncertainly, stumbling, now reeling, skipping, climbed up and down this ladder. The thing seemed so funny to her that she could not hide her laughter, while the dilettante abused the unknown composer, and boldly maintained that he did not know how to write for the violin.

Only after five or six months did it come out that the sonata's author was Haydn, who then received for it a present from Miss Jansen.

Have I ever mentioned that Haydn loved a good joke? In any case, in 1795, Haydn wrote a proper first movement for this work and soon it was published. It is the only known trio or sonata with a programme, albeit one which was necessary for the joke to work. We have not seen the last of this work either. In 1803 it will show up as a Violin Sonata, published in Paris, with a wonderful letter from Haydn to a fan and the name "Haydn's Last Sonata". Therein hangs a tale for the future.

Wedding registry for Jansen/Bartolozzi nuptials, signed by Haydn

Apparently these works, the trio and the two sonatas, were the means of making a good friendship between Haydn and Jansen. Haydn's two artistic passions were well-served in this little circle of friends, since Jansen's fiancé was Gaetano Bartolozzi, son of engraver Francesco and avid Haydnist from the previous decade. The trio were close enough friends that Haydn's habit from Eszterháza days, witnessing weddings and baptisms, once again appears. The friendship remained strong enough that next year we shall see Haydn's final three Pianoforte Trios, composed in Vienna for Jansen in London. There is also little doubt that his rather huge collection of fine "English" engravings was nicely fattened up by this relationship. Win-win!

Hungarian –  Playing a Duda at a Verbunkos                           Scottish Highlander - 1714                         Two 18th century bagpipers - The universal instrument!

Back in 1792, I introduced into this conversation the first volume of 100 Scottish National Airs which Haydn set for publisher William Napier. As I mentioned at the time, that was not the end of the story, but as we shall see, it is just the beginning. Even here we are just at a stop on a long road.

Certainly there are old bones to rake up when it comes to discussing the early relationship between England and their old neighbor Caledonia. While it seems as though this would have been all over with by the late 18^th century, things like a nearly complete lack of factual information (the Highlanders are cannibals!), the Jacobite Rebellion and Bonnie Prince Charlie earlier in the century, had extended the cultural wall long past its reasonable length or height. The Highlanders, especially, were objects of fear and fascination, even though by George III's time they were serving as regulars in the British Army. Fitting in to our theme, they were certainly considered exotic! 

By the late 18^th century, Scotland was fairly well assimilated into English culture. The Scots were moving closer to being English, particularly in the professions, religion, and elite circles; a not uncommon saying was "think in English, feel in Scots", which limited the communicative role, as well as the intelligibility, of the Scots language. Still, remnants of the Scots dialect met with approval in certain circles. With no shadow of doubt, even during his lifetime, Robert Burns was the great icon of all that was Scottish. A loose-knit movement to preserve evidences of Scottish culture embraced products that had the stamp of Scotland upon them, lauding Robert Burns as a poet from the soil; assembling, editing, and collecting Scottish ballads and songs. This movement was both nationalistic and antiquarian, recognizing Scottish identity through the past rather than the present, and so implicitly accepting assimilation. Burns, however, was Scottish to the core. His urbane wit and rustic humor was present in all he wrote. Haydn never got to meet him, since Burns had taken a job as an excise collector in Dumfries, Scotland, where he died in 1796. But from the time he arrived in London in 1791 he almost certainly will have heard the fruits of Burns' art, maybe even the great poem here. Haydn's sense of egalitarianism would have been deeply stirred by the sentiments expressed there:

I have associated with emperors, kings, and many great gentlemen and have heard many flattering things from them; but I do not wish to live on an intimate footing with such persons, and I prefer people of my own status.

Griesinger (1809) - Biographical Notes Concerning Joseph Haydn

As we saw in 1792, Burns made a huge leap into the public eye in 1786, with his first book, Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect. The nearly immediate result for Burns was to engage in a project with musical publisher James Johnson to create the six volumes of the Scots Musical Museum. Each volume contained 100 songs, and of the 600 total, Burns wrote approximately one third. He also edited the remainder, even the ones which were published after his death, since it was 1803 when Johnson was finally able to finish the project. It may well be that Johnson & Burns actually had the right idea about how to present these songs: they were billed as supplying 'proper bass for the pianoforte'. And indeed, the music is two staves, top one melody, bottom one bass line. Other verses appear at the bottom of the page. The Museum was a hit, but not with its intended audience. Johnson (and Burns?) had the idea that every house would have a copy and it would be a popular favorite in that way. As it turned out, it became a rich trove for academia and music societies. It took the dedication of commercial publishers working with 'name' composers to create the aura which generated sales and popularity.

The 1786 Classic of Scots Poetry	Volume 4 (1792) of The Museum

Would Haydn have been familiar with Burns? We don't know exactly how often he attended the many salons which were running at the time of his visits. However, it is difficult to imagine that even an occasional visit to Anne Hunter's salon would have failed to give him exposure. This is because, in the early 1780's, Hunter's niece moved into the close vicinity of her and the Doctor. Joanna Baillie would go on to become one of the greatest Scottish women poets and dramatists. It was a classic case of Anne influencing Joanna, and vice-versa. Certainly during Haydn's first visit, he would have met Joanna Baillie, and perhaps developed a taste for the Scottish poetry which led him to offer his services, gratis, to William Napier. Ever since the last time I wrote about Napier I have felt there must be more to it than Haydn feeling sorry for him. He probably felt sorry for lots of people, but it is not likely he simply wrote 100 songs for each of them. However, a newfound enjoyment in a hitherto unknown musical treasury would explain much.

Haydn's efforts for Napier were apparently a success, since this year Napier paid Haydn for his 50 songs. The amount is up in the air (but is possibly £1/each), but the fact that it was requested, and published with a dedication to Queen Charlotte, shows there was some element of a market, even for these bare-bones editions. It is almost certain that Napier chose his songs from the Scots Musical Museum, and in the event, 25 of the first 100 and 23 of the second 50 were Burns songs. If Haydn didn't know Burns before this project came along, he surely knew him afterwards!

Next time we are packing our bags to go back to Vienna. It is not the same place we left a year and a half ago, it will be interesting to see all the changes.

Thanks for reading!