Barber: String Quartet, Op.11 (1936)
Molto allegro e appassionato
Molto adagio – Molto allegro (come prima) – Presto
Barber occupies a strangely indefinable place in the musical scheme of things: composer of one of the most successful classical “hits” of the twentieth century (the “Adagio for Strings”); generally loved for the lyricism and accessibility of his language (witness the wonderful violin concerto), in the midst of an era which too often provoked hostility amongst the music loving public; yet by the end of his life largely neglected and unappreciated – indeed, a close Fitzwilliam friend/colleague was once at a social gathering, and was informed that the old man sitting alone in the corner, deeply depressed, was none other than “Sam”! Yet it all began so differently, such that before he was thirty his career was already meteoric: one of the first students at the Curtis Institute at the age of 14, during which time he produced a number of significant compositions (including the popular Dover Beach for baritone and string quartet, in 1931); winner of numerous composition prizes, enabling him to travel extensively in Europe; composer of the first ever American work to be performed at the Salzburg Festival (July 1937, Symphony No.1, conducted by the great Rodzinski).
It was during these sojourns in Europe that he developed a deep association with Italy, and a perhaps deeper one with his Italian companion, the composer Gian Carlo Menotti – whom he first met at Curtis, and with whom he later shared a house in New York. Menotti was also to be the librettist for his large scale opera Vanessa (1957). 1936 saw him in Italy once again, as winner of the Prix de Rome, and it was there that he composed the present work – his only quartet, but preceded in 1929 by a Serenade for string quartet, as well as sonatas for violin and cello respectively (not forgetting Dover Beach). Its form is unusual and highly compact, consisting of a tautly argued Allegro, which is briefly recalled after the slow movement to complete an arch-like structure. This music may at times sound derivative (English listeners might be inclined to identify traces of Elgar, but there is no reason to suppose that these were anything other than subconscious); yet it displays touches of unbounded imagination in its scoring and harmonic felicities – with no shortage of passion, drama and, occasionally, even anger. Did he originally plan the quartet in this way? Did he run out of time….? Or is the fast music intended as a supporting act for the great Adagio itself? Of course, this will be immediately recognised as the famous Adagio itself, and who can say whether or not it works more effectively with a larger body of string players? Certainly the long lines, sustained chords, and drawn out climax put a considerable strain on just four of us, and maybe a later version still – arranged for choir as Agnus Dei (1967) – is the most effective of all. Barber himself was a fine baritone singer, giving recitals for NBC and recording Dover Beach. Furthermore, the quartet was dedicated to his aunt and uncle, Louise and Sidney Homer, the former a distinguished contralto, her husband a composer of mainly vocal music. Clearly the vocal tradition was in his blood, and the most fundamental requirement of this Adagio is that we must sing. At least the original version puts this intensely moving piece into its proper context, at the same time providing an all-too-rare opportunity of hearing some marvellous quartet music.
© Alan George