|
Hob. 3 No. |
Opus No. |
Key |
New Grove No. |
Instruments |
Notes |
||||
|
75 |
76 #1 |
G |
60 |
2 Violins, Viola & Cello |
The 'Erdödy Quartets' Published in 1799 in London & Vienna |
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|
76 |
76 #2 |
d |
61 |
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|
77 |
76 #3 |
C |
62 |
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|
78 |
76 #4 |
Bb |
63 |
||||||
|
79 |
76 #5 |
D |
64 |
||||||
|
80 |
76 #6 |
Eb |
65 |
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|
Hob. No. |
Genre |
Key |
Title |
Instruments |
Notes |
||||
|
23a:deest |
Motet |
d |
Insanae et Vanae Curae |
Chorus, 2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Trumpets, Timpani & Strings |
Contrafactum from the chorus Svanisce in un momento from the 1784 revival of the oratorio Il ritorno di Tobia. |
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|
9:16 |
24 Minuets with Trios |
C, E, G, Bb, F, D, Eb, C, Eb, Bb, D, G, A, E, C, G, Bb, D, A, C, Eb, d, Bb, A |
Piccolo, 2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, 2 Clarinets, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani, Percussion 2 Violins, Cello & Bass |
The venue for these has not been determined, but believed to be for grand balls at Eisenstadt. Because of the instruments, the date can only be after 1795. |
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by Jacopo Vignali
As we learned already, words and concepts, especially in their archaic meanings, can be difficult sometimes when we apply them to modern situations. So can ethical or other philosophical considerations. The word 'sublime' cropped up in our discussion of the Military Symphony, and the concept of 'sensibility' in the opera, La Vera Costanza. Naïve application of modern definitions to both of those words had a definite effect on the perception of those works, making it different from its original intent and reception.
The word 'parody' is another fine example of both of these issues. When he was writing about Insanæ et Vanæ Curæ, Robbins Landon carefully avoided the use of 'parody', substituting instead an even more archaic word, contrafactum in its place. But if you start doing some research on that word, you soon discover it reached the end of its useful life sometime in the 17th century:
Contrafacta continued to be made in the early 17th century, in spite of the increasing union of words and music characteristic of the seconda prattica. Monteverdi, for example, transformed his Lamento d'Arianna into Il pianto della Madonna, and a number of his madrigals were 'spiritualized' by Aquilino Coppini, who supplied sacred Latin texts carefully matching the affekt of the original words and music (1607–8). Later in the 17th century and throughout the 18th, contrafactum tended to merge with parody, the generic term describing adaptation of pre-existing music to new texts.
The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians
If New Grove is correct and Robbins Landon wrong, then there is quite a lot of music existing from the 18th century which is really parody, but not called such. We saw some of the arias from the Applausus Cantata, for example, which were reworded to become sacred works, and really, I have scarcely touched on the phenomenon previously, but it did affect many of Haydn's works, especially from the 1760's.
Why not call it parody then? Well, to get back to the main point I was on, modern perceptions, the New Grove's second definition of parody is really the only one we use today:
A composition generally of humorous or satirical intent in which turns of phrase or other features characteristic of another composer or type of composition are employed and made to appear ridiculous, especially through their application to ludicrously inappropriate subjects. Parody, in the non-technical sense of the word, has been a frequent source of humour in music, often aimed at the correction of stylistic idiosyncrasies or exaggeration.
The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians
Mozart's Musikalischer Spaß anyone? If you applied your own idea of what parody was, as I did, surely the first sentence above would sum it up nicely. But when Haydn was taking a strikingly dramatic aria out of his oratorio Il ritorno di Tobia, and rewording it to become a motet to be used in his warlike masses of the late 1790's, humor and satire were surely the furthest things from his mind. So we need an alternative definition, one which Haydn knew well, since it was still heavily used in his own time. Like this one:
A term used to denote a technique of composition, primarily associated with the 16th century, involving the use of preexisting material. Although the technique of parody was important, particularly in mass composition, throughout the 16th century [and beyond]…
[snip]
The type of borrowing implied in parody was discredited during the 19th century when originality was sought of a kind that would admit little more than symbolic quotation in major works.
The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians
In 1784, the Tonkünstler-Societät wanted to reprise Haydn's huge hit oratorio from 1775, Il ritorno di Tobia. Haydn decided to update it and he substantially revised the work, with cuts to make numbers shorter and two new choruses. One of these choruses, very dramatic, comes very near the end of the work: Svanisce in un momento (It fades in a moment).
We have looked at the structure of the Catholic Mass a few times in this space. The Offertory comes between the Credo and the Sanctus in the Ordinary of the Mass. There are two reasons for its existence: firstly, while the priest says a silent prayer, the bread and wine are placed on the altar, preparatory to being blessed. Secondly, the basket or plate is passed around for people to make monetary offerings. While all this is going on, we have music. In Austria, regular masses had an Epistle Sonata or a movement of a concerto or symphony. In addition, special masses also had a solo aria, usually dedicated to the saint or holy personage whose feast day was being celebrated. These arias, called motets, consisted of some of the finest vocal music of the time. By now, we expect to see Haydn changing things up. His Offertorium was not an aria, but rather, a chorus. We will see much more at a later time from Joseph Carl Rosenbaum, but for now, this bit in his diary gives us a hint about the Name Day Mass of 1797. One of the things we discover here is (surprise!) it is not by Haydn. But another thing we find is something which was:
For the Feast of St. Mary [NB – Sunday, 10 September 1797] we had a new Mass, the music by [Johann Nepomuk] Fuchs, and also, a new chorus by Haydn…
In the works list of The New Grove Haydn, Georg Feder, based on information which he refused to share with me, states only that Insanae et vanae curae had to have been written no later than 1798. Since there is no other 'new chorus by Haydn' available, and also since the orchestration is nearly the same as the Missa in Tempore Belli, which as we saw, was performed on 29 September in the same venue, it is certainly not outrageous here to make an assumption: the frequent coupling of this motet with this Mass, and especially with the next Mass (the Missa in Angustiis), is very appropriate.
Insanae et vanae curae, invadunt mentes nostras, saepe furore replent corda, privata spe.
Quid prodest O mortalis conari pro mundanis, si coelos negligas,
Sunt fausta tibi cuncta, si Deus est pro te.
Raging and vain worries flood our minds, often madness fills the heart, robbing us of hope.
What is the point, O mortal man, to strive for worldly things if you should neglect the heavens?
All things work in your favor if God is on your side.
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Dancing a Minuet |
A Ball at the Redoutensaal |
As we have seen previously, dancing was already the rage in Vienna, and this, long before The Waltz King made his appearance. The two Redoutensäle (literally fancy-dress ball room), Large and Small, were part of the Imperial Palace, and were remodeled in 1748 by Maria Theresia to host large balls, open to Society. The Rooms really got popular after Joseph II and Isabella of Bourbon-Parma had their wedding celebration there in 1760. By the 1780's, dances were held frequently, with music by the finest composers of the day. One of Mozart's job duties as Court Composer was providing dances, which he did from 1788 to 1791. Haydn was asked to compose dances for the Redoutensaal Christmas dances in 1792. This commission produced Twelve Minuets (Hob 09:11) and Twelve German Dances (Hob 09:12). Beethoven began composing dances as early as 1795 (WoO 7 & 8), and though the orchestral originals weren't published until after his death, the piano reductions he made still achieved great popularity.
With the exception of Haydn's Hob. 9:11, though, the thing these dances had in common was the popularity of the German Country Dance and the Contredanse. The waltz was just becoming established, which was taking time because it was such a radical concept (*gasp* … look, dear, they're touching!), but most importantly, the minuet was fast disappearing. Perhaps it is no surprise to discover that the dance which was so associated with the upper classes was becoming another victim of the sweeping social change taking place at the time. I've tried to verify this and it hasn't worked for me, obscurity having its disadvantages, but this set of 24 Minuets & Trios by Haydn might possibly be the last effort in this genre by any notable composer. There were certainly still potential venues for dances; close to home, the Esterházy's gave grand balls both in their Vienna town-palace as well as at Eisenstadt. But the various societies, for example, the Pension Society for Viennese Painters which commissioned Beethoven's 1795 Redoutensaal dances (WoO 7 & 8), are also said to have commissioned both Haydn and Ditters earlier times. So perhaps these actually were composed for the Redoutensäle.
by James Gillray
None other than the father of Haydn's friend, Teresa Jansen-Bartolozzi!
With good reasons, which only begin with the undated manuscripts, Landon just gives the date as an approximation: after 1795, but close to the beginning of Haydn's Late Period. Among other interesting facts are things such as the clarinet writing, some of which is in the chalumeau (very lowest) register, a clear influence of Stadler, which Haydn never did on his own. Also the use of trumpets in C where he normally used horns in C alto. If you think of dance writing from this period as being of only slight depth and interest, these 24 Minuets & Trios will surprise you, they are a real pleasure!
In 1797 we have now seen a national anthem, a big set of dances, and an adapted piece of sacred music. But as Haydn's instrumental music fans are well aware, time is running out for the music they really love. In fact, this year Haydn produced his next last (and last complete) opus of purely instrumental works. But they are by no means the burned-out musings of an old man: they are among the most vital and life-affirming works he ever produced!
[Letter home by Frederik Silverstolpe, Swedish Diplomat]
14 June 1797
…a few days ago I went to see Haydn again, who now lives right next to me, since he gave up his customary winter and spring lodgings in one of the suburbs [NB – Gumpendorf], and moved a whole quarter-of-a-mile away [from me]. On this occasion, he played to me, on the piano, violin quartets which a certain Count [Joseph] Erdödy has ordered from him and which may be printed only after a certain number of years. These are more than masterly and full of new thoughts. While he played he let me sit beside him and see how he divided the various parts of the score. Moreover, he sang some arias for me [NB - from the Mehrstimmige Gesänge] which he intends to issue by subscription when their number reaches 24….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[To Haydn from Charles Burney. in English]
Chelsea College, 19 August 1799.
My dear and much-honoured Friend!
[snip - a long discussion of subscription to The Creation which we will visit soon]
I had the great pleasure of hearing your new quartetti (opera 76) well performed before I went out of town, and never received more pleasure from instrumental music: they are full of invention, fire, good taste, and new effects, and seem the production, not of a sublime genius who has written so much and so well already, but of one of highly-cultivated talents, who had expended none of his fire before. ….
Dear Sir, your enthusiastic admirer and affectionate Servant
Charles Burney.
The first letter here, by Frederik Silverstolpe, marks the occasion when we first hear of new string quartets. Whenever I read about this sort of occurrence, I always feel a momentary twinge of envy of the person who got to hear these new works for the first time. Even if it was on a fortepiano. After all, Haydn himself was playing and pointing out the various charms…
Haydn was no stranger to the Erdödy clan. The documented part of their relationship, although probably not the actual onset, begins with Ignaz Pleyel. As we saw in London, Pleyel was Haydn's student at one time. Little is known about the nature of Pleyel's studies with Haydn, which began around 1772, but evidently his progress was pleasing enough for his patron Count Ladislaus Erdödy to express his gratitude to Haydn by offering him a carriage and two horses for which Prince Esterházy agreed to provide a coachman and fodder. Ladislaus also was the prime backer of the Pressburg Opera Company which staged many of Haydn's operas (translated into German). Our current Erdödy, Joseph, is the younger generation. Almost nothing is known of the circumstances of him commissioning a set of quartets from Haydn.
Conveniently for us, a phrase in Silverstolpe's letter explains the 1799 date of Burney's letter. What we see here is a new phenomenon, whereby a patron, in this case Joseph, Graf (Count) Erdödy, has commissioned some music from a composer, and has (nearly) exclusive use of it for a certain period of time. Haydn evidently received a fee of one hundred ducats from the count, whose generosity was later acknowledged by a dedication in Artaria's edition of the set. I say 'nearly' because Haydn, himself, had a right to play them in various places, but for publishing or selling to anyone else, Opus 76 had to sit two years on the shelf first. As a result, we see in the local 'paper:
Wiener Zeitung, 7 Oct. -
We received a letter [concerning the visit] of the Archduke Palatine Joseph (Imperial Viceroy of Hungary) to Eisenstadt. …. [there follows a long piece about the festivities, which finally end two days later]… At His Royal Highness' request, a new Quartet by Kapellmeister Joseph Haydn was played by the princely chamber musicians, and after that the young Luigi Tomasini, in the service of His Highness, played on the violin artistic variations written by his father…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Diary of Joseph Carl Rosenbaum]
Thurs., 28th September, '797 (Eisenstadt]
The [town dignitaries] went into the small hall, where they were received by the Viceroy who thanked them for the particular attentions which had been paid him. New quartets by Haydn were played, [one of them] based on the song Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser…
It is so nice to get clarification of what was played. All of this explanation goes to an understanding as to why this narrative seems to take place mainly in or after 1799. These little snippets are about all I can find, even by reference, from 1797.
When we were discussing the Bartolozzi Trios, I briefly laid out the terms of the agreement Haydn had signed with Frederik Hyde of London in 1796:
They [the Trios] first show up in an August 1796 agreement between Haydn and an English music seller named Frederick Augustus Hyde. By all appearances, Hyde wasn't a publisher, but more like a broker. His 'indenture' with Haydn, witnessed by Rebecca Schroeter no less, guaranteed Haydn £75 for "Three sonatas for the Piano Forte or Harpsichord with an accompaniment for a Violin and Violoncello". This indenture went on to establish a sort of price table, which was what Haydn would be paid if he wrote various sorts of works over the next five years. It did lay out a desire for fifty-five various compositions totaling £911.
These quartets fell under the same constraints. If there is one thing Haydn can do, it is to make a business deal complicated! At the time of the deal, Hyde was allied in the publishing firm we are already familiar with, Longman & Broderip, now Longman & Clementi. At the start, things went as planned: the London print of the first three quartets, with the opus number 76, was registered at Stationers' Hall on 13 June 1799 and advertised two days later; and on 17 July Artaria advertised his version, published as Op. 75. But Haydn had no way to quickly know how matters stood abroad, and he feared if L & C delayed printing the first three quartets and instead published all six together. If this happened, and if Artaria came out with both sets of three in the meantime, Haydn faced the unhappy vision of losing the £75 on the second set.
[To ARTARIA & Co., Vienna. in German]
Messieurs,
[snip] … I should have delivered the Third Quartet to you, but certain doubts hold me back from doing so: I have not yet received an answer as to the last three Quartets which I sent to London, and I fear that if the gentlemen issue all 6 Quartets together and not divided i.e., if they have not yet announced them — your edition and announcement could appear earlier than that in London; though that is difficult to believe, for I sent the first 3 Quartets as early as 27th March and the last 3 on 15th June. If the publication in Vienna should be earlier than that in London (which I hope will not be the case), and if the gentlemen were to discover that you at once received the same 3 Quartets from me, I should lose £75 Sterling, which would be a serious matter. You must therefore take immediate action, sub rosa, to ascertain positively whether the first 3 are out, and likewise approximately when the last 3 will appear, so that I won't have a double fine imposed on me. I shall send you the Third Quartet shortly, but you must wait with the publication until we know that the 2nd set has been published in London. I rely on your integrity in this matter, and for my part I shall always be.
Messieurs,
Your most obedient servant,
[signature forgotten (in haste?)]
In the end, Artaria's edition of the second set, published as Op. 76, did in fact precede Longman & Clementi's: it was advertised on 7 December 1799. Longman & Clementi's, although announced as forthcoming in January 1800, was not advertised until 25 April of that year. This edition bore the same opus number 76 which the London firm had assigned to its edition of the first three, so the two prints combined represent the first instance of the traditional numbering (i.e., the opus number 76 to encompass all six works).
Here is a breakdown of the movements;
|
Movement > |
I |
II |
III |
IV |
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|
Work |
Tempo |
Key |
Meter |
Tempo |
Key |
Meter |
Tempo |
Key |
Meter |
Tempo |
Key |
Meter |
||
|
76 #1 |
Allegro con spirito |
G |
₵ |
Adagio sostenuto |
C |
2/4 |
Presto |
G |
3/4 |
Allegro ma |
g - G |
₵ |
||
|
76 #2 |
Allegro |
d |
C |
Andante o più tosto allegretto |
D |
6/8 |
Allegro |
d/D |
3/4 |
Vivace assai |
d -D |
2/4 |
||
|
76 #3 |
Allegro |
C |
C |
Poco adagio: Cantabile |
G |
₵ |
Allegro |
C/a |
3/4 |
Presto |
c – C |
C |
||
|
76 #4 |
Allegro con spirito |
Bb |
4/4 |
Adagio |
Eb |
3/4 |
Allegro |
Bb |
3/4 |
Allegro ma non troppo – più allegro – più presto |
Bb |
₵ |
||
|
76 #5 |
Allegretto – Allegro |
D |
2/2 |
Largo: cantabile e mesto |
F# |
₵ |
Allegro |
D/d |
3/4 |
Presto |
D |
2/4 |
||
|
76 #6 |
Allegretto – Allegro |
Eb |
3/4 |
Adagio [Fantasia] |
B |
3/4 |
Presto |
Eb |
3/4 |
Allegro spiritoso |
Eb |
3/4 |
||
I sought to change the direction of the conversation. "Have you ever made a system, or rules," I asked, "with the help of which you could extort the certain approval of the public?" Haydn was silent, so I went on. "You know," I said, "that our philosophers analyze everything and are not long satisfied with 'this pleases' until they have found the reason why this pleases? Once they have discovered the reason, they then know the component parts of the beautiful and can govern the latter by rules which anyone who means to produce something that will please must observe as strictly as possible."
Haydn answered, "In the heat of composition I never thought about that. I wrote what seemed to me good and corrected it afterwards according to the rules of harmony. Other devices I have never made use of. Several times I took the liberty not of offending the ear, of course, but of breaking the usual textbook rules, and wrote beneath these places the words con licenza. Some cried out, 'A mistake!' and tried to prove it by citing Fux. I asked my critics whether they could prove by ear that it was a mistake? They had to answer No."
"My own ear," Haydn went on, "hears no mistake in those places; on the contrary, I seem to hear something beautiful, so I begged leave to sin against the rules."
A.C. Dies – Biographical Account of Joseph Haydn
Now that the pressures of Haydn's commitments were no longer a burden, he seems to have shifted his focus with this opus. If he wasn't having to please the Prince, nor the publishers, nor the London audience, who was left? I really believe that the answer here is "Haydn". Several commentators over the years have noticed this change in these works. They are pretty much in agreement that Haydn was trying to appeal to everyone, from casual listener to ultimate connoisseur. I disagree with that, I believe he was beyond it, he was actually luxuriating in the ability to write what HE wanted to write, what appealed to HIM. If there was any pressure at all, it came from the realization of being considered the top musician in the world and this was something he needed to live up to.
The above quote from Dies can certainly be read in a way which supports this idea. Con licenza appears, for example, in the Fantasia: Adagio of Op. 76 No. 6, which is so chuck-full of unusual harmonic devices that Haydn felt it necessary to let the players know that he had taken some liberties. We already know, from reports of his critics over the years, how little Haydn cared for following certain rules. The previous essay on Shakespeare even gives us an idea how he felt justified in doing so. I think it can fairly be said that art is never advanced by people who are more concerned with following rules than they are with expressing their ideas.
To appreciate some of the pride Haydn took in his position as Godfather of Music, and in these works in particular, one should be aware that Haydn's late years, that is, from 1801 until his death in 1809, were not entirely spent in quiet isolation in his cottage garden in Gumpendorf. In fact, he had a steady stream of visitors, not only fans of his music, biographers and foreign dignitaries presenting awards and honors, but the musicians and composers of Vienna, London and Paris. In 1798, when the scores of these works were still under the exclusive contract to the Erdödy's, Haydn had his copyist, Johann Elssler, reconstruct from the parts Haydn owned, three 'study scores'. They were for the d minor, Bb Major and Eb Major quartets (Nos. 2, 4 & 6). Since the Erdödy originals and Haydn's parts have not survived, these, which passed from Haydn's estate through the Esterházy archives to the National Széchényi Library in Budapest (Ms. Mus. I. 126-128), represent the best possible record of at least half of Opus 76.
Lest you think Haydn must have done this regularly, I can only say no, these are the only examples from his largely intact personal home library. And while there are many scores in the Esterházy Archives, few if any are connected to Haydn's personal ownership the way these are. What might his purpose have been?
Prominent Haydnist László Somfai, in his 2010 essay Two Compositional Essays in the "Erdödy" Quartets Op. 76, pulls together several of the threads I've been talking about here into a coherent whole. As you can imagine, taking three of Haydn's most forward-looking and challenging works and comparing them at full-scale is more than the work of a short essay, but just reading the comparison he presents between the two Adagios in the Bb and Eb quartets gives you a taste of how far out on the cutting edge of musical science Haydn was by 1797. Somfai's conclusion as to why Haydn caused Elssler to write these scores makes perfect sense to me; he wanted to discuss these works with other musicians and visitors to his house, and doing so would have been impossible without a score. The three works chosen for the purpose are by far the most exploratory and suitable for the purpose of not only showing how a masterpiece was made, but also teaching young composers how to express their thoughts. Papa indeed!
Short of a lengthy analysis, there is little else to be said of these, Haydn's finest works in the genre. As is many times the case, virtually everything to do with them is a mystery. What is not a mystery is how they still are considered among the very finest examples of the genre ever written. Just give them a listen and you will know it is true. Next time, the rest of 1797, a year with plenty of events still to go!
Thanks for reading!
A.C. Dies – Biographical Account of Joseph Haydn IN Gotwals, Vernon – Joseph Haydn, Eighteenth Century Gentleman & Genius – page 109 – University of Wisconsin Press (1963)
Somfai, László - Two Compositional Essays in the "Erdödy" Quartets Op. 76 - Studia Musicologica, Vol. 51, No. 3/4 (Sept 2010)
Grave, Floyd & Margaret - The String Quartets of Joseph Haydn – Oxford University Press (2006)