Beethoven: String Quartet in F major, Op.135 (1826)
Allegretto
Vivace
Assai lento, cantante e tranquillo
“Der schwer gefasste Entschluss”: Grave, ma non troppo tratto – Allegro
It would not have seemed inappropriate had Beethoven drawn his career to an apocalyptic close in 1823 with the Missa Solemnis and the “Choral” Symphony (No.9). Yet such a questing mind could hardly have sought rest at such a time of achievement. He evidently did not see the ninth symphony as his last, since another was planned (and started) – as also were other large-scale works, including an oratorio. But among sketches for the Ninth was some material which later assumed significance: notably the main subject of the rejected instrumental finale, which eventually found its way to the corresponding point in the A minor quartet (Op.132). There also appeared ideas specifically intended for a string quartet, such that soon after the first performance of the symphony (on 7th May 1824) a quartet in E flat (Op.127) was eventually begun – no doubt encouraged by an unfulfilled commission: it was in November 1822 when Prince Nikolas Galitzin (a wealthy Russian nobleman and patron of music, as well as cellist of the St Petersburg Quartet) invited Beethoven to write him “one, two, or three new quartets, for which I should be delighted to pay you whatever you think adequate”! Three years later the E flat, A minor, and B flat quartets (Opp.127, 132, and 130 respectively) were all ready – but Beethoven only ever received the 50 ducats agreed for the first of them. This was probably completed in February 1825, nearly fifteen years after its predecessor (the F minor, Op.95), and marks the beginning of his total withdrawal into the private and intimate world of the String Quartet: from now until the end of his life he was to write for no other medium (with the exception of a few vocal canons and brief piano pieces). So it was that with Op.127 he turned his back on every “public” musical form: it is as if the creating of this work drew him into an inner region of utterly personal communion with quartet texture, but a place from which, two years later, he emerged with Op.135 as a Being somehow relieved and exorcised – rather akin to Samson, “Calm of mind, all passion spent”.
Very little of the gloriously resonant sonorities and sweeping lyricism of Op.127’s first movement will be found in the corresponding part of this F major quartet. Indeed, the first page of the score is so fragmentary it almost looks like Webern – the first subject, split phrase by phrase between the upper three voices, could even be seen as an early example of Webern-style Klangfarbenmelodie. Yet its smiling good nature belies an extraordinary underlying subtlety and originality. Searching for hidden depths here has too often led performers, listeners, and commentators alike into problematical culs-de-sac, for such disarming simplicity might not have been expected of the composer of the three gigantic masterpieces which preceded it (those Opp.130-2 quartets). Neither would a Romantic notion easily accept this music as Beethoven’s last, although it is more likely that he was beginning to explore new avenues within the medium rather than settling for any pre-determined swan song. The Vivace scherzo might well be seen as being possessed of a maniacal streak, and the crazy ostinato and wild violin string crossings at its centre do support such a view; others may find this passage jubilant and exultant, rather than mad…but clever exploitation of rhythm and dynamics (especially right at the end) still leaves an impression of intentional wit, however gruff.
Once again (following Opp.127, 131, 132, and also the Ninth) it is a set of variations which lies at the heart of the work, but here very much in line with the almost epigrammatic scale of the other movements: so utterly simple, so unutterably still. “Problems” do indeed surface in the finale, as suggested by the title (which might roughly be translated as “The Difficult Decision”). Although it is said that the famous question and answer which heads this movement (“Muss es Sein? Es muss sein! Es muss sein!”) referred originally to unpaid wages to his housekeeper, its origin lies more correctly in an attempt by a concert promoter to regain the composer’s favour, having neglected to subscribe to the first performance of the B flat quartet (Op.130) – to which Beethoven laughingly responded with a canon on the “answer”. But the words may also have begun to assume an ominous significance for the already sick composer: a “poetic idea” which could even give a clue to his own thoughts about Life and Death. Whether this puzzling little prefix indeed suggests deeper metaphysical musings, or whether it really was no more than a personal joke, there can be little doubt that in the end Beethoven cheerfully accepts that “It must be!”.
© Alan George
All Alan’s articles
