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About the Program
The St. Lawrence
Quartet makes a welcome return to our concerts with a program that could
well be titled "Stretching the Envelope: Three Innovations".
By no means were all 69 of Haydn's string quartets from the same mold.
There are numerous deviations from the classical pattern which he
himself did so much to establish. One of the most interesting is the
remarkable Quartet in C, Op. 54, No. 2, one of a dozen quartets written
about 1788, apparently for Johann Tost, who for six years led the second
violins in Haydn's orchestra at Esterhaza. Tost must have been a fine
player indeed, to judge from the prominent first violin part, brilliant
in the first movement and passionately rhapsodic in the unusual second.
The quartet opens with a dramatic five-bar phrase, then a grand pause.
Again five bars and a pause before music resumes, now in the distant key
of A-flat. The first violin cavorts through a number of keys before
making a vertiginous ascent to a repeated top D (an octave and a half
above the staff). The development section finally allows the lower
three instruments a more lively role, contrasting with the "primarius".
Then note in the recapitulation what happens to those early grand
pauses. The two inner movements are linked, beginning with an
extraordinary C-minor Adagio. Although the syntax is much different,
this is very much a counterpart of the famous
beklemmt ("anguished")
episode in the Cavatina of Beethoven's Op. 130 which we will hear later
this evening. There is a hushed half-close on the dominant chord,
followed immediately by a soft-spoken, subtly accented minuet in C
major, but its C-minor trio, forceful in expression, features some bold
dissonances. The surprising finale is an Adagio, its solemn theme
subjected to elaboration by the first violin above a pulsing
accompaniment in the middle voices and gravely-paced arpeggios spanning
more than three octaves from the cello. There is a brief scampering
Presto interruption before the Adagio theme fades to a quiet close.
By any account the Canadian composer, writer, educator, environmentalist
and visual artist R. Murray Schafer is a singularly remarkable
individual. Born in Sarnia, Ontario in 1933, Mr. Schafer was first
attracted to painting, but at age 19 entered the Royal Conservatory of
Music / University of Toronto. Informal contacts with Marshal McLuhan
strongly influenced his intellectual development, but "insubordination"
got him expelled from the University. (Toronto was a very buttoned-down
place in the '50s, much different from the vibrant cosmopolitan center
it has since become.) Ironically but fittingly, the University of
Toronto later awarded him an honorary doctorate (one of several he has
received). Schafer continued his studies in Vienna, now including
literature, languages and philosophy, and after a time in Britain
returned to Canada, where he now lives in a farmhouse near Peterborough,
Ontario. Mr. Schafer isn't much fond of big cities. He has been
prolific both as a composer and as a writer. Much of his highly
innovative music includes a strongly theatrical element, sometimes even
involving the audience in the performance. (Relax - you won't have to
perform this evening!) As of 2006 Schafer had written ten string
quartets. Quartet No. 3 dates from 1981 and is considered pivotal in the
development of this cycle. To describe what goes on in this quartet
would only spoil the experience, but the theatrical moments overlay a
very effective musical
presentation which is the heart of the work. The powerful second
movement gives way to great contrast in the final strongly expressive
third movement. Much more about the life and achievements of Mr. Shafer
can be found on
the internet at
www.musiccentre.ca and
www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com.
In its original form, which we hear tonight, Beethoven's Quartet in
B-flat, Op. 130 is arguably the mightiest of his sixteen, not only for
its expansive design but also (and most importantly) for its breadth and
depth of expression. There are really two Op. 130s, for the choice of
finale to be performed strongly affects our perception of the entire
work. As composed, but not as published, the B-flat Quartet ends with
the colossal Grosse Fuge,
for which the preceding five movements, superbly rich as they are, can
be seen as merely the prelude. It is not surprising that the performers
and listeners who first experienced the quartet, early in 1826, felt
that this immense and challenging finale, coming after an already
lengthy work, was just too much. What is surprising is that they got
Beethoven to change his mind and write a new, less demanding finale. It
helped that his publisher, Artaria, made him a deal he couldn't refuse:
separate publication of the Grosse
Fuge (as Op. 133), plus a commission for a four-hands piano
arrangement of the fugue.
The Adagio which opens the
Quartet is not simply "introduction", but rather is a foil to the
Allegro sections of the first movement. This first movement is vigorous
Beethoven; the next three are delicate and lyrical Beethoven. The
justly famous Cavatina (fifth movement) wrenches one's emotions; toward
the end comes a marking "beklemmt" (anguished). Out of this rises the
commanding
Overtura
which introduces the
Grosse Fuge.
A "motto" is hammered out, and we are given a synopsis of what is to
come: three double fugues (with the motto as countersubject) plus a
coda. This piece was revolutionary in 1826. It still is.
Edwin Daley
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