Beethoven: String Quartet in B flat major, Op.130 (1825/6)
Adagio, ma non troppo – Allegro
Presto
Andante con moto, ma non troppo
Alla danza tedesca: Allegro assai
Cavatina: Adagio molto espressivo
Grosse Fuge (Op.133): Overtura – Allegro – Meno mosso e moderato – Allegro molto e con brio
OR: Finale: Allegro
Of the great triptych of string quartets (Opp. 130 – 132) from 1825/6, surely the most visionary and glorious of all Beethoven’s achievements, the B flat is the brightest and most outward looking; “lightweight” would hardly be apposite in describing what is, in fact, by far the longest and – for the players at least – the most daunting of all the last five quartets – in its original version, that is, and thereby one of the many paradoxes surrounding this work has already presented itself; indeed, Op.130 could almost be seen as two works, depending on which version is performed. The reasons for Beethoven’s replacing of the original finale – Grande fugue, tantôt libre, tantôt recherché – with an entirely different movement are perhaps of less concern to us now than the effect this has on the quartet as a whole. For example, the relevance of certain discreet pointers towards the Grosse Fuge (such as the bebung-type slurred repeated notes in the beklemmt central section of the Cavatina, or the prominence of G flat major in the first movement) is obviously lost if this finale is not played. Of still greater significance, is the way in which the balance of the entire quartet is affected; the Grosse Fuge was clearly intended to be a spectacular apotheosis, towering above the rest of the work, just as a view of Florence is crowned by its Duomo and Brunelleschi’s tremendous Cupola. A large-scale first movement can then, in retrospect, be seen to have made for a wholly satisfying counter balance – but it assumes an altogether more dominating function when the Rondo Finale is chosen; this in turn settles happily enough at the end of a line of shorter movements, yet is sufficiently substantial to dispel any suspicions of anticlimax. At the same time, the exigencies of energy conservation, without the prospect of the Grosse Fuge forty minutes away, are otherwise considerably relieved, absolving the players from any need for compromise in their physical address to the first movement – which therefore stands to make a still stronger impact – in theory!
It can therefore be seen that by changing just one movement out of six, the result is two quite different experiences, even though the music itself is otherwise identical. Originally the quartet fell into three parts, the four inner movements combining to provide much needed relaxation between the two mighty edifices on either side – without the Grosse Fuge the shape of the B flat quartet resembles the type of French orchestral Ouverture/Suite favoured by Bach and Telemann, wherein the complexity of the overture itself is relieved by a succession of shorter dances. The element of dance does indeed survive into Beethoven’s three scherzando movements, which together serve as an ideal foil to the gravity of the great Cavatina – indeed, opponents of this original version (who were unable to count Schuppanzigh, the leader at the first performance, among their number) claim that the stature of this sublime utterance is diminished in the face of so gigantic a finale; but even if the revision allows it to linger a little more easily in the memory, no listener is likely to be other than totally absorbed while the sounds themselves are actually happening; the finale, whichever it is, is worlds away during those precious moments. It is well known that Beethoven confessed that no melody he ever wrote affected him more than this one, and any music at all which follows will inevitably produce something of a jolt – no less the stern forte unison G of the Grosse Fuge, or the whispered motor-rhythm (also Gs) which ushers in the Rondo. But this is entirely appropriate in a work where extremes of contrast are among the principal sources of drama and structure, whether it be simply between the various identities of those short character pieces, or actually within the magnificent movement which precedes them. Its opening Adagio proves to be so much more than a slow introduction, being embraced within the exposition repeat and afterwards persistently requiring the Allegro material to justify its actions. Similar processes are at work in the Grosse Fuge, notably between the barrage of sempre fortissimo in the awesome first fugue (Allegro) and the constant ethereal pianissimo of the second (meno mosso e moderato); but in the Rondo finale such rigorous confrontations have largely relented – but Beethoven at least preserves his previously effective transition from the E flat major of the Cavatina back to the home key of B flat, via the same octave G pretending initially to be the dominant of C minor.
One final paradox lies in the extraordinary simultaneous creation of such widely diverse compositions as the B flat and A minor (Op.132) quartets – the latter completed just a month earlier. Not surprisingly, given these circumstances, one movement, the Alla Tedesca, was actually transferred from one work to the other; and the two of them, together with the C sharp minor, Op.131, are further related through a motif based on the top four notes of the harmonic minor scale. It must have been mentally so rejuvenating to switch to the exuberance of one as an emotional corrective to the darker regions of the other, an exuberance which at times – particularly in the mind-blowing finale to be heard in the original version – threatens to stretch the string quartet medium well beyond all reasonable boundaries. Composing the cheerful new finale (however protestingly he may have done so) must have been no less rejuvenating and, we might hope, could even have brought some relief from the distress of his final illness – not to mention that of the endless wrangles over the guardianship of his nephew Carl. Certainly the music of this, his last completed piece, seems to flow with as little effort and as much magic sparkle as the corresponding part of the E flat quartet op 127 (the first of the “late” quartets), communicating a sense of delight in his own mastery which is so rare, and which we can all share with joyful gratitude.
© Alan George
