Chapter 10 of 17 · 7137 words · ~36 min read

CHAPTER IX

THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS, EMMANUEL BACH AND HAYDN

We have now set forth, with representative illustrations, all the fundamental forms of instrumental music, _i.e._, the Canon, Fugue and Invention, the Two and Three-part forms, the Rondo and the Varied Air. Through the perfecting of these means of expression music became a living language of communication, ready for that development which, through the genius of the Classic and Romantic masters, it was destined to show. The essential feature of all the above forms is the emphasis laid on _one theme_. This is strictly true of the polyphonic forms, the Canon, Fugue[87] and Invention and of the Two-part form; and although in the Three-part form we have a second theme, this is merely for contrast and is often of rather slight import. The same comment holds true of the Rondo where, notwithstanding the new contrasting themes of the episodes, the centre of attraction is the _single main theme_, to which constant recurrence is made. Obviously the Varied Air is the expansion of a single theme. But the principal characteristic of the Sonata-Form, now to be studied, is that we find therein _two themes_ of coequal importance, which may well be compared to the hero and heroine of a novel or the two leading characters in a drama. It is true that a composer will often in the creations of his imagination show a marked preference for one theme over the other; just as, in the family group to which the child owes its life, either the man or the woman is likely to be the stronger character. But as there can be no child without two parents, so the organism of the Sonata-Form derives its vitality from the presence and interaction of two living musical personalities, the first and second themes. The first theme is so called because it is the one first presented and because it generally furnishes the prevailing rhythmic pulse of the movement. Yet the second theme,--exactly as important in its own way, is often of a greater beauty; its title of "second theme" implying nothing of a secondary nature, but merely its position in order of appearance. No greater step was ever taken in the growth of musical structure than this introduction of a second coequal theme; for the principle of duality, of action and reaction between two forces, runs throughout nature both human and physical, as is seen from the import of the terms: man and woman, active and passive, positive and negative, heat and cold, light and darkness. The first theme, in fact, often resembles, in its vigor and directness, a masculine personality; while the second theme, in grace and tenderness, resembles the feminine. As long as music confined itself to the presentation of but one main theme it was hampered by the same limitations which beset the early Greek tragedians, in whose primitive plays[88] we find but one chief actor. The introduction of a second theme can not be attributed to _any single man_; indeed it resulted from a tendency of the times, the demand of which was for more homophonic melodies rather than for an elaborate polyphonic treatment of a single one. Embryonic traces of a second theme we find in D. Scarlatti (see Supplement No. 40) and in Sebastian Bach himself.[89] Scarlatti,[90] in fact, was often hovering close to the Sonata-Form and in the example just cited actually achieved it. The systematic employment of the second-theme principle, however, is commonly attributed to Emmanuel Bach (1714-1788), although an undue amount of praise, by certain German scholars, has been given his achievements to the exclusion of musicians from other nations who were working along the same lines. Any fair historical account of the development of the Sonata-Form should recognize the Italians, Sammartini and Galuppi; the gifted Belgian Gossec, who exercised such a marked influence in Paris, and above all, the Bohemian Johann Stamitz (1717-1757), the leader of the famous Mannheim Orchestra, of whom we shall speak further when we come to the orchestra as a medium. In many of Stamitz's Symphonies we find the essential first-movement structure (_i.e._, tripartite grouping with a clear second theme) and, as Riemann says in his _Handbuch der Musikgeschichte_, "Their sincere phraseology, their boldness of conception and the masterly _thematic development_ give Stamitz's works lasting value. Haydn and Mozart rest absolutely upon his shoulders."[91]

[Footnote 87: Except in the comparatively rare cases where we have a Fugue on two subjects.]

[Footnote 88: Illuminating comments on this point will be found in _Outlines of Musical Form_ from W.H. Hadow's _Studies in Modern Music_ (2nd Series).]

[Footnote 89: See the prelude in D major of the second book of the _Well-tempered Clavichord_.]

[Footnote 90: For further information consult the first chapter of J.S. Shedlock's _The Pianoforte Sonata_.]

[Footnote 91: For an extended account of this development see the second chapter, Vol. II, of _The Art of Music_ (The National Society of Music, N.Y.). See also Chapter XIX of Pratt's _History of Music_.]

The other marked characteristic of the Sonata-Form is the _second_ part which is known as the Development Section; for, as we shall soon explain, the structure as a whole is tripartite. In this portion of the movement the composer has an opportunity to improvise, as it were, with his material, using one theme or both as already presented. Dry and labored development sections may, of course, be found in certain Sonatas and Symphonies, but in the great works of such masters as Beethoven, Brahms, Tchaikowsky and d'Indy the development is the most exciting part of the movement. The hearer is conducted through a musical excursion; every device of rhythmic variety, of modulatory change and polyphonic imitation being employed to enhance the beauty of the themes and to reveal their latent possibilities.

Before going further, it is well to point out a confusion which often arises between the terms Sonata and Sonata-Form. When we speak of Sonata-_Form_ we mean invariably the structural treatment as to number of themes, key-relationship, etc., of _any single_ movement within a series.[92] By the term Sonata is meant a composition generally in three or four movements, _e.g._, First Movement, Slow Movement, Minuet or Scherzo and Finale; of which, in most examples of the classic school, the First Movement--and often the last--were in Sonata-Form. An alternative name, indeed, for Sonata-Form is First Movement Form. Beginning with Beethoven, however, composers began to exhibit great freedom in the application of the Sonata-Form. We find Sonatas of Beethoven, notably the set op. 31, in which every movement (even the Scherzo) is in Sonata Form or a modification thereof; on the other hand, there are compositions, entitled Sonatas, in which not a single movement is in pure Sonata-Form, _e.g._, Beethoven's Twelfth Sonata, op. 26. These comments apply equally to many other large instrumental works. For a symphony is merely a Sonata for Orchestra, a String-Quartet a composition--of the same general type--for four solo instruments[93] and there is, furthermore, a large group of ensemble compositions: Sonatas for Violin (or any solo-instrument) and Pianoforte; Trios, often for unusual combinations, _e.g._, Brahms's _Trio for Violin, Horn and Pianoforte_; Quintets and even Septets--in all of which the distinction must be made between the terms Sonata and Sonata-Form. Nor is there any rigid rule in regard to number of movements or the moods expressed therein. The classic Sonata, Symphony or Quartet, as we have stated above, generally contained three or four movements, of which the first would be direct and vigorous in nature--a summons to attention--cast in sonata-form, with a wealth of material organically treated, and requiring from the listener concentrated attention. The second movement was generally much simpler in form, affording relief after the tension of the preceding movement--its themes of a lyric nature, often with great depth of emotion, sometimes even of tragic import. The third movement, Minuet or Scherzo, would portray the light, humorous side of life; and the Finale, joyful and optimistic--its themes often bearing strongly the sense of finality--would close the work with a general feeling of satisfaction. It was Beethoven who first modified these principles to suit his own poetic needs. Thus we find some of his Sonatas with only two movements; some have three, some have four. One of Schumann's Symphonies contains five movements and Rubinstein's _Ocean Symphony_ seven! When we reach the modern school, we shall see further freedom as to number, order and type of movements.

[Footnote 92: The form is also sometimes used independently, as in Brahms's _Rhapsody in G minor_ and often, of course, in the Overture.]

[Footnote 93: _I.e._, 1st Violin, 2d Violin, Viola and Violoncello.]

We are now prepared to sum up the essential characteristics of the Sonata-Form; for there is no structure in which it is more important for the music-lover to acquire the art of listening easily, naturally and with a minimum of friction. The Sonata-Form is the instrumental form "par excellence"--the Gothic Cathedral[94] of music--and has retained its place, not because of any slavish regard for form as such, but because it has been worked out, perfected and utilized by the greatest of the composers. Any form with a beginning, a middle and an ending, _i.e._, presenting material worthy of consideration, which allows this material to grow and realize its inherent possibilities and then sums the matter up in a convincing, objective close; which, furthermore, exemplifies the great principle of Duality, _i.e._, reveals _two_ musical personalities, has as little need for argumentative sanction as a tree or a human being. The Sonata-Form--often, to be sure, with free modifications--predominates in all the large instrumental compositions of the Classic, Romantic and Modern Composers, notably of such men as Beethoven, Schumann, Brahms, César Franck, Tchaikowsky, d'Indy and Sibelius. Anyone unable readily to follow movements in this form, if he thinks he is receiving the complete message of the music, is his own dupe. It would be as logical to expect to enjoy the beauties of architecture without perceiving the difference between a nave and a bowling-alley. The obvious way to understand the meaning of a language is to know something of the principles of structure and expression in that language. Music is in very truth a language; and far too many people get from it nothing save the appeal which comes from its emotional power. This exciting experience is important, we may frankly acknowledge, but there are no reasons, save apathy and indifference, why the hearer should not have all this and more too. There is no conflict between warm emotions and an intelligent, well-trained mind. They should go hand in hand; and in any complete artistic appreciation each is indispensable.[95]

[Footnote 94: See the eloquent comments on this analogy by d'Indy in his _Course in Composition_, Vol. II, Chap. 5.]

[Footnote 95: "Art is not more a riot of the passions than it is a debauch of the senses; it contains, no doubt, sensuous and emotional elements, the importance of which there is no need to undervalue, but it is only artistic if it subordinate them to the paramount claims of reason." W.H. Hadow, _Studies in Modern Music_ (second series), preface.]

The three main divisions of the Sonata-Form, with their essential features, are the following: (1) the Exposition, in which two themes in different tonalities are announced for the consideration--and, as the composer hopes, the pleasure--of the hearer. In the works of Haydn and Mozart this contrast of key was invariably that of Tonic and Dominant, _e.g._, C major and G major, or of major and relative minor, _e.g._, A-flat major and F minor. Beginning, however, with Beethoven great emphasis has been laid on _mediant_ relationship, _e.g._, C major and E major or C major and A-flat major; and in modern composers[96] this more stimulating change has largely superseded the former tonic and dominant grouping, _e.g._, Brahms's _Third Symphony_. We thus see that the harmonic feature of the Exposition is _Duality_ of Key-relationship. Between these two main themes there is always a modulatory connection or Bridge Passage which, in the time of Haydn, was generally of a very perfunctory, stereotyped character. Wagner once sarcastically remarked that Haydn's transitions reminded him of the clatter of dishes between courses at a royal feast. In Mozart we find the bridge-passage more deftly planned, more organically connected with what precedes and follows; but it was Beethoven who, in this portion of the movement, first revealed its possibilities. Throughout his works the bridge-passage is never a mere mechanical modulation or a floundering about until the introduction of the second theme, but is so conceived that the interest of the hearer is increasingly aroused until, at the entrance of the second theme, he is in the highest state of expectancy.[97] A bridge-passage of this kind often has a subsidiary theme of its own, or even several melodic phrases, and is planned as carefully as the action by which a dramatist leads up to the entrance of his heroine. After the second theme we generally find a closing theme to round out the Exposition as a whole. This practice dates from Haydn and has been much expanded by modern composers. Witness the glorious climactic effect in César Franck's _Symphony_ and in Brahms's _D major Symphony_ of the closing themes in the Expositions of the first movements. For many years it was the invariable custom to repeat the Exposition, and in Classic Symphonies we always find a double bar with marks of repeat and two endings. This practice was not an integral part of the form but was adopted so that the hearer, by going over the themes of the Exposition twice, might follow more intelligently their growth in the Development. With the advance in public appreciation this repeating of the Exposition has been largely abandoned; for there is no doubt that to begin all over again, when a certain objective point has been reached, breaks the continuous flow of the movement.[98]

[Footnote 96: Some composers have also experimented with still freer key-relationships.]

[Footnote 97: For striking examples see the Expositions of the first movements of Beethoven's _Third Symphony_ and of Tchaikowsky's _Sixth Symphony_.]

[Footnote 98: The ultra-conservative attitude of Brahms is shown by his retention of the double bar and repeat, although this is often ignored by modern conductors.]

(2) The Development, for which the Germans have the happy name of "Freie Phantasie," or free phantasy; the composer thus giving rein to his imagination and doing whatever he pleases, so long as he holds the interest of his hearers and neither becomes verbose nor indulges in mere mechanical manipulation. There are, alas! developments in which the composer exhausts his themes and his hearers too;[99] but on work of this kind, since it is not real development but labored jugglery, no powder need be wasted. Beethoven began the practice, in his Developments, of not confining himself to the themes of the Exposition but of introducing an entirely new theme, whenever the main material had fulfilled its purpose. The single most exciting factor in a good development is the freedom and wealth of modulation revealed by the daring genius of the creator; the effect being Plurality of Key-relationship, in distinction from the two closely related keys of the Exposition. It would often seem as if we were taken up into high mountains or borne away to distant seas. For illustrations of this "free phantasy" note the end of the Development in the first movement of Beethoven's _Second Symphony_ where, after great stress has been laid in the Exposition on the two basic keys of D major and A major, we are left in the distant tonality of C-sharp major and are then whirled back, by a dramatic change, into the home-key of the third part. One of the most interesting studies in the workings of a great mind is to observe how Beethoven, in his developments, allows the excitement to subside and yet never entirely die out, and how deftly he leads the hearer onward to the summing up of the main themes of the exposition.

[Footnote 99: It was probably a development of this kind which called forth the characteristic comment from Debussy who once remarked to a friend at a concert, "Let us flee! he is going to develop."]

(3) The Recapitulation or Résumé, in which both the themes of the Exposition are reasserted, each in the home key--a strong final emphasis thus being laid on _Unity_ of Tonality. The bridge-passage has to be correspondingly changed, for now the modulation is between two themes _both_ in the _same key_. To achieve such a modulation is quite a "tour de force" as every musician knows, and often taxed the ingenuity even of the great Beethoven. The skill by which he always made the second theme sound fresh and vital is astounding. For a case of "academic fumbling"--mere treading of water--in this adjustment of key relationship, see the Recapitulation of the first movement of Brahms's Second Symphony. To secure unbroken continuity and to avoid vain repetitions[100] there is no portion of the Sonata-Form which has been more modified by the inventive genius of modern composers and by the tendency exemplified in the Symphonic Poem (to be explained in due season). The general validity of Restatement, as shown in the Recapitulation of the Sonata-Form, cannot be questioned; for that depends, as so often pointed out, upon the human craving to enjoy once more, after intervening contrast, something which has originally given pleasure. Furthermore this sound psychological principle finds an analogy in our own life: with its early years of striving, its middle period of development and its closing years of climactic retrospect and satisfaction. There is a corresponding structural treatment in the dénoûment of a drama. In the classic composers, the Recapitulation is almost always a literal repetition of the Exposition, although Beethoven began to be freer, _e.g._, in the climax of the Coriolanus overture, where he modifies the form to meet the dramatic needs of the subject.[101] Modern composers, however, have felt that much of this repetition was superfluous; and when they do repeat both themes, one or the other is freely varied and made still more eloquent. For examples, see the résumé of the first movements of Franck's _Symphony_, of Brahms's _First Symphony_ and of Tchaikowsky's _Sixth_. The Recapitulation is often abridged by omitting the first theme altogether and dwelling exclusively on the second; as for example, in the Finale of Schumann's _Fourth Symphony_ and in Sinigaglia's Overture, _Le Baruffe Chiozzotte_.[102]

[Footnote 100: See Grétry's amusing comments on the Sonata-Form cited by Romain Rolland in the essays _Musicians of Former Days_.]

[Footnote 101: See also Wagner's comments on the _Third Leonora Overture_, cited by Ernest Newman in his _Musical Studies_, pp. 134-135.]

[Footnote 102: Additional illustrations of this treatment may be found in Chabrier's Overture to _Gwendoline_ and in the first movement of F.S. Converse's _String Quartet_.]

It remains to speak of the beginning and end of the Sonata-Form. With Haydn it became the custom, not necessarily invariable, to introduce the body of the movement by a Prelude which, in early days, was of slight texture and import--often a mere preliminary "flourish of trumpets," a presenting of arms. In Mozart we find some examples of more artistic treatment, notably in the Overture to the _Magic Flute_ and in the prelude to the C major Quartet with its stimulating dissonances. But in this case, as in so many others, it was Beethoven who first showed what a Prelude should be: a subtle means of arousing the interest and expectancy of the hearer; the effect as carefully planned as the portico leading to a temple. To usher in the theme of the Exposition in a truly exciting manner every means of modulation and rhythm is employed; famous illustrations being the introductions to the first movements of the Second, Fourth and Seventh symphonies; and, in modern literature, those of the first movements of Brahms's _First Symphony_ and of Tchaikowsky's _Fifth_. It also became customary to prolong the end of the movement by what is termed a Coda; the same tendency being operative that is found in the peroration to a speech or in the spire of a cathedral, _i.e._, the human instinct to end whatever we attempt as impressively and completely as possible. This Coda, which, in Haydn and Mozart, was often a mere iteration of trite chords--a ceasing to go--was so expanded by Beethoven that it was the real glory of the whole movement. In fact so many eloquent treatments of the main material were reserved for the Coda that it often became a _second_ development; and such was its scope that the form may be considered to have _four_ parts instead of three, _i.e._, 1, Exposition, 2, Development, 3, Recapitulation, 4, Coda; parts 4 and 2 balancing each other in the same way as 3 and 1. For two of the most famous examples in all Beethoven literature see the Codas to the First movement of the _Third Symphony_ and to the Finale of the _Eighth_.

We now present a tabular view of the Sonata-Form summing up the features just commented upon.

THE SONATA-FORM OR FIRST-MOVEMENT FORM

For actual musical examples it seems best to begin with the works of Haydn. This exclusion of Philip Emmanuel Bach is not meant to minimize what we owe him for his preliminary efforts in formulating the tripartite Sonata structure, with its two themes and its Development portion. Haydn is on record as saying that it was his study of six Sonatas of Emmanuel Bach which laid the foundations for his own instrumental style. But on the whole, the compositions of Emmanuel Bach are of interest rather from a historical point of view than from one purely artistic. The object of this book, furthermore, is not to give a complete account of the evolution[103] of the Sonata-Form; but, accepting the existence of standard works which employ this form, to enable the student to gain a more complete appreciation of those works. P.E. Bach wrote in the so-called "galant style"[104] of the period which has, for our modern ears, too much embellishment and too many meaningless, rhapsodic passages. He made a sincere effort to invent pure instrumental melody, _i.e._, musical expression suited to various instruments that should be unhampered by the too definite balance of the dance forms, by polyphonic complexities or by the conventional artifices of operatic style. But though he wrote skilfully for his instrument and though his style has a certain quaint charm, on the whole it is lacking in genuine melodic warmth and feeling. These qualities alone keep works immortal.[105]

[Footnote 103: Those interested in this development should consult _The Pianoforte Sonata_ by J.S. Shedlock, and above all, d'Indy's _Course of Musical Composition_, Part III.]

[Footnote 104: This, according to d'Indy, was so-called because pleasing to the ladies who played an important part in the elaborate court ceremonial of that day.]

[Footnote 105: Six of P.E. Bach's Sonatas edited by von Bülow are readily accessible and some excellent comments upon the most significant ones may be found in Shedlock (see above).]

In Josef Haydn (1782-1809) we are face to face with a musician of a different type. Haydn is popularly known as the father of the Sonata, the Symphony and the String-Quartet; but, according to Edward Dickinson,[106] this estimate is something of an exaggeration, for "it overlooks the fact that a large number of composers were struggling with the same problem and working along similar lines. Haydn was simply the greatest in _genius_ of the instrumental writers of his day. His works have lived by virtue of the superiority, _i.e._, the greater spontaneity and vitality, of their contents. He should be called the 'foster-father,' rather than the father of the symphony and quartet for he raised them from feebleness to strength and authority." To him must be given the honor of establishing the types of instrumental composition which became the foundations of modern music. Haydn, moreover, was the first musician since Sebastian Bach who had a real personality which may be felt in his works. To speak of a piece of music as "Haydnish" conveys as distinct a meaning as to refer to a poetic stanza as "Miltonic." When Haydn arrived on the scene, music--through the labors of many earnest workers--had become a language of definite expression, with a logical grammar and with principles of structure. The time was ripe for the use of this language in a more artistic way, _i.e._, for a more intense personal expression and for more subtle treatment of the material. The composer could count upon the public following his points; and with Haydn, whose heart beat in sympathy with the common people, music begins to be a truly popular art.

[Footnote 106: See his _Study of the History of Music_, p. 154.]

The striking features in Haydn's works are three: (1) The wealth of spontaneous and sparkling melodies, for he was born with this lyric gift and never had to cudgel his wits for a tune. That instrumental melody could make such sudden progress as we find between the dryness of Emmanuel Bach and the freshness of Haydn, was long a puzzle to scholars, and only recently has the proof been submitted that Haydn was largely of Croatian ancestry. Now the Croatians of Southern Austria are one of the most musical races in the world, with a wealth of folk-songs and dances. Haydn therefore did not have to "invent" melodies in the ordinary sense of the term; they were his birthright. Many of his melodies are adaptations of actual folk-songs[107] or original melodies coming from an imagination saturated with the folk-song spirit.[108] For this reason they seem like wild flowers in their perennial freshness and charm. (2) The precision and clarity with which his ideas are presented. These qualities were due to his well-balanced and logical intellect that impressed everyone with whom he came in contact. His style, moreover, was the result of indefatigable labor, for he was largely self-taught. If the balance of his phrases and the general symmetry of his style seem to our modern taste a bit excessive, we must remember that he was a pioneer and could run no risks in the way of non-acceptance of his message through puzzling complexities. Everything must be so clear that the ordinary mind could at once accept it. Nor is the "sing-song," "square-toed" element so prevalent in Haydn as is commonly supposed. In his melody a distinct feature--no doubt of racial origin--is his fondness for odd rhythms of three, five and seven measures, of which examples abound in the Quartets. In his Minuets and Finales there is a rollicking effect of high spirits which could never have been attained by mere labored pedantry. In his mature works we find a pervading spontaneity which is one of the outstanding examples in all literature of "art concealing art." Never do these works smell of the lamp, and let us remember it is far easier to criticize them than to create them.[109]

[Footnote 107: See for example the _Salomon Symphony in E-flat_, every movement of which is founded on a Croatian folk-song.]

[Footnote 108: For a comprehensive account of this whole subject consult the _Oxford History of Music_, Vol. V, Chapter VIII, and Mason's _Beethoven and His Forerunners_, essay on Haydn.]

[Footnote 109: Witness for example, the attitude taken by Wallace in his _Threshold of Music_, pp. 148-153.]

(3) The skillful and eloquent manner in which Haydn adapted his ideas to his favorite media of expression: the orchestra and the string-quartet. Although he wrote a number of pianoforte sonatas, these works, on the whole, do not represent his best thought. For they were composed in the transitional period between the waning influence of the harpsichord and the advent of the pianoforte, not yet come to its own. But as for the orchestra, Haydn established[110] the grouping of the three so-called choirs of strings, wood-wind and brass; to which were gradually added the instruments of percussion. In his works we begin to enjoy orchestral effect for its own sake: the dashing vivacity of the strings, the mellowness of the wood-wind, the sonority and grandeur of the brass. Instrumental works had formerly been composed in black and white, but now we have the interplay of orchestral colors. No less paramount was Haydn's influence in the handling of the four solo instruments known as the String Quartet. In his Quartets the voices are so highly individualized that it seems as if four intelligent and witty persons were holding a musical conversation. Such melodic and rhythmic freedom were hitherto unknown and his style became the point of departure for modern practice.[111] Both Mozart and Beethoven, those great masters of the String-Quartet, acknowledged their debt of gratitude to Haydn. His success in establishing the formation of the orchestra and the string-quartet was chiefly due to the inestimable advantage he enjoyed of being, for so many years, chapel-master to those celebrated patrons of music the Princes Paul and Nicholas Esterhazy, at whose country-seat of Esterhaz he had at his disposal, for free experimentation, a fine body of players.[112] Here Haydn worked from 1762 until 1790; and, to quote his own words, "could, as conductor of an orchestra, make experiments, observe what produced an effect and be as bold as I pleased. I was cut off from the world, there was no one to confuse or torment me and I was forced to become original."[113]

[Footnote 110: For the early and significant achievements in orchestral effect of the Mannheim Orchestra under its famous leader Stamitz, see _The Art of Music_, Vol. 8, Chapter II.]

[Footnote 111: For interesting comments on the String Quartets see Hadden's _Life of Haydn_, pp. 174-175.]

[Footnote 112: _The Oxford History of Music_, Vol. V, Chapter I, and _The Present State of Music in Germany_ by Burney present a vivid picture of the times and of the results of 18th century patronage.]

[Footnote 113: For an entertaining account of the two London visits, which took place during the latter part of his career, see the essay _Haydn in London_ by Krehbiel in his _Music and Manners_.]

As to the formal side of Haydn's work, he is responsible for several distinct improvements. The different divisions of the movement are more clearly defined--sometimes perhaps, as we look back, a bit rigidly--but no more so than was necessary for a public just beginning to follow easily the main outlines of the form. Haydn leads up to his objective points in a clear-cut, logical way and there is little of "running off into the sand" or of those otherwise aimless passages so prevalent in Emmanuel Bach. In his best works, notably in many of the Quartets, there is also more individuality secured for the second theme;[114] although for highly personified and moving second themes we have to await the greater genius of Mozart and Beethoven. Whenever we are inclined to call Haydn's style old-fashioned we must remember that he wrote before the note of intense personal expression--the so-called subjective element, prominent in Beethoven--had come to the fore. The time just prior to Haydn had been called the "Pig-tail period" (Zopf-Periode) in reference to the stiff and precise dress and manners which had their counterpart in formality of artistic expression. Only towards the end of his career do we feel that breath of freedom in life and art which was generated by the French Revolution (beginning in 1791) and by the many political and social changes of that stirring period. From Haydn on, much more attention should be paid to the content and meaning of the music than to the formal handling of the material. In all worthy music, in fact, the chief point of interest is the _music itself_ which speaks to us in its own language of sound and rhythm. A knowledge of form is but a means to an end: for the composer, that he may express himself clearly and convincingly, and for the listener, that he may readily receive the message set forth. In Haydn's music we find the expression of a real personality--though of an artless, child-like type, without great depth of emotion or the tragic intensity of a Beethoven. Haydn was not a philosopher, or a man of broad vision. During his epoch, artists hardly dared to be introspective. His imagination gave birth to music, simple though it was, as freely as the earth puts forth flowers; but, although he wore a wig, he had a heart which was in good working operation even in his sixty-fourth year when, during his London visit, he fell in love with a charming widow, Madame Schroeter, whom he would have married had not his wife been still alive.

[Footnote 114: In many cases Haydn's second theme is merely a varied version of the first.]

We should acquire the catholic taste to enjoy every composer for what he really was and not criticise him for what he was not--a state which would imply necessarily different conditions. In criticism there is no worse error, or one more often made, than that of blaming Haydn because he was not Beethoven; or, in our times, Tchaikowsky because his music does not resemble that of Brahms. Blasé pedants often call Haydn's music "tame"; we might as well apply that adjective to the antics of a sportive kitten. As for the "amiable prattle" of his style we do not speak in a derogatory way of the fresh, innocent voices of children, though we need not listen to them continually. Haydn, in short, is Haydn,[115] and the vitality and sincerity of his works will always keep them immortal. In these feverish days we may dwell upon the simplicity of "Papa Haydn," as he was affectionately called; who would kneel down before beginning work, and who inscribed his scores "In nomine Domini." His modest estimate of his own powers cannot fail to touch our hearts. "I know," he said, "that God has bestowed a talent upon me, and I thank him for it. I think I have done my duty, and been of use in my generation by my works; let others do the same."

[Footnote 115: Haydn's life is of great interest in showing the traits which are reflected in his music. Everyone should read the biography in Grove's Dictionary, Vol. II, p. 348, and the excellent life by M. Brenet in _Les Maîtres de la Musique_.]

We shall now make a few comments on the illustrations in the Supplement (see Exs. No. 41 and 42): the Finale of the _Sonata for Pianoforte in E-flat major_ and the first movement of the so-called _Surprise Symphony in G major_. Haydn, of all composers, needs little verbal elucidation; his music speaks for itself and everyone must be sensitive to its vitality and charm. We regret that it is not practical to give examples from the Quartets which, in many respects--especially in the Minuets with their inexhaustible invention[116] and their bubbling spirits--represent Haydn at his best. But the real effect of his Quartets is so bound up with idiomatic treatment of the strings that in any transcription for pianoforte the music suffers grievously. It is through the score, however, that everyone should become familiar, with the contents of the Quartets in C major, op. 76, and D major, op. 64; the Finale of the latter being one of the supreme examples in all chamber literature[117] of rhythmic vitality.

[Footnote 116: Haydn himself used to speak of his melodic invention as "a stream which bursts forth from an overflowing reservoir."]

[Footnote 117: In every large city there are, of course, frequent opportunities to hear the Quartets of Haydn played by such famous organizations as the Flonzaley Quartet etc. The student is urged to take advantage of these occasions.]

The Finale of the E-flat sonata, in strict Sonata-form, begins with a lively eight-measure phrase which is at once repeated a tone higher. The extension of the sentence shows Haydn's freedom in phraseology; for, beginning with measure 17, we should have to count the measures 1, 2, 3, 3a, 4, 5, 6, 6a, 7, 7a, 8, 8a. In the second theme, which begins in the 44th measure, note the piquant dissonances[118] coupled with sforzando accents. Haydn surely liked spice as well as anyone! The rest of the Exposition is taken up with closing passages which accentuate the tonality of the second theme--B-flat major. The Development needs no comment, as the correspondence between the original material and Haydn's treatment is perfectly clear. The Recapitulation is a literal repetition of the Exposition, with the two themes as usual in the tonic key. The movement may be considered an example of Sonata-form in its clearest manifestation, hence an excellent one for preliminary analytical study.

[Footnote 118: Those who erroneously think that there is nothing of the dissonant element in Haydn should examine the Prelude to _The Creation_--a real anticipation, in its use of the chromatic element, of _Tristan and Isolde_.]

In the first movement of the _Surprise Symphony_, before the body of the work begins, we have an early example of the Prelude. This slow Prelude, short though it be, is most carefully planned; with its crescendo from _pp_ to a _sf_ forte and its free modulation it arouses a genuine feeling of expectancy. The first theme of the Exposition (Vivace Assai) is a happy illustration of Haydn's sparkling rhythm, and as tossed off by the violins is of irresistible gaiety. The reader is asked to remember that the comments on this symphony--and on all subsequent symphonic works--are based upon the orchestral score; also that the composition, when separated from its orchestral dress, necessarily loses much of its real eloquence. Thus the first theme, of a folk-dance character, is a typical violin melody; only strings--with their incisiveness and power of subtle phrasing--can fully express its piquancy. For private study or for class-room work, a practical version is that for four hands; or better still, when possible, the arrangement for two pianofortes.[119] The second phrase of the first theme is considerably expanded by repetition, as if unable to stop from sheer exuberance, but finally reaches a cadence in the dominant key in the 32nd measure. We are at once taken back, however, to the home-key of G major; and, in measure 40, the first theme is repeated, this time delicately embellished with phrases on the flute. From now on, by reason of the emphasis laid on the key of D major, it is evident that we are in the transitional passage and are heading towards the announcement of the second theme. It must be said that Haydn does not drive very straight at his mark; though it is a pleasant touch of variety in measures 55-57 to introduce the main theme in the minor mode, and though the fiery violin passages in the following measures give an air of considerable excitement. What stands for the second theme begins in measure 67. This portion of the movement has no theme with genuine individuality, but consists of running passages--based exclusively on tonic and dominant harmonies in the new key, and of little import save one of general vivacity. It is, however, decidedly alive--not stagnant or flabby--and in the orchestra it all "comes off." We are rewarded, finally, by a clear-cut closing theme of jaunty rhythm, _e.g._,

[Music]

which Haydn liked so much that it is presented twice, the second time slightly embellished. The Exposition closes with the conventional insistence upon a strong cadence in the key of the second theme. The Development begins with some rather fragmentary treatment of the first theme; then, after some fugitive modulation into flat keys, contents itself with running passages and a series of iterated notes. Of organic and sustained development, such as Haydn indeed sometimes attained, there is little trace. Even so we must be chary of sweeping condemnation; for there are well-planned dynamic contrasts and the instruments are used in such a natural way--especially the figure in the double basses (measures 149-153)--that the scene is one of animation, though perhaps no more than one of aimless gambols. There is sufficient modulation, so that the principle of Plurality of key is carried out. We are suddenly but gracefully led back, in measure 155, to the repetition of the first theme, thus beginning the Recapitulation. This portion, with certain abbreviations, is an almost exact duplication of the first part and emphasizes the main tonality of G major. That Haydn was not forced to this literal repetition through any lack of fancy is shown by the skilful amplification of the first theme, in measures 177-184. The whole movement sparkles with sunshine; and those ponderous "heavy-weights" who criticise it because it is not deep or "soulful" are looking for qualities which the music does not pretend to contain. It is the work of a wholesome, cheerful-hearted man expressing through his favorite language his joy in life. In listening to the music we have the same delight as in wandering by the side of a rippling brook. The three remaining movements of the Symphony require little comment; being readily accessible they are not given in the Supplement. The second movement, a set of stereotyped variations, contains the explosive chord which gave to the work its descriptive title. Needless to say that this chord does not "surprise" _our_ modern ears to any great extent. The Minuet is one of Haydn's best--full of queer antics in rhythm and modulation. The Finale (Allegro di molto), in the Rondo Sonata form, is the acme of Haydn's vivacity and is a "tour de force" of brilliant writing for the strings. In many passages they seem fairly to burn.

[Footnote 119: All symphonic scores give a much better effect when performed on two pianofortes than in a four-hand arrangement for a single instrument. The freedom in control of both pedals possessed by each player secures a greater richness and sonority of tone and it is much easier to make prominent voices stand out in relief.]

Haydn's position in the development of music is of the first importance. Whatever his works may "mean," they contain a rhythmic vitality which will keep them alive for ever, and their "child-like cheerfulness and drollery" will charm away care and sorrow as long as the world shall last.