Beethoven completed his third and final string quartet for Prince Galitzin’s commission in November or December 1825. It seems he wanted something big and profound, for the original version of the Opus 130 String Quartet has six movements and concludes with a powerhouse fugue.
The two outer movements of the original Opus 130 String Quartet run about 12 and 15 minutes, respectively. The first movement pushes the envelope of sonata form while the last is entitled Grosse Fuge (Great Fugue) and is unlike anything Beethoven (or anyone else) ever composed.
In contrast, the four inner movements of Opus 130 are much shorter character pieces in the order dance-slow-dance-slow, but the first slow movement isn’t quite a slow movement. These inner movements are sometimes characterized as a baroque-like Suite or classical Divertimento.
#Beethoven250 Day 355
String Quartet No. 13 in B♭ Major (Opus 130, v. 1), 1825
A suitably intense performance by the Paris-based Quatuor Ebène.
The first movement of the Opus 130 String Quartet is eccentric and elusive. It begins with a chromatic ¾ Adagio introduction that becomes much more than an introduction by persisting in popping up to interrupt the robust and energetic fanfares of the 4/4 Allegro. Something like a power struggle seems to be waged here, and at times the Allegro takes on longer note values to slow itself down as if it wishes to do battle on the Adagio’s own turf. Perhaps by the end a reconciliation has occurred, or maybe just a standoff.
The Opus 130 second movement is marked Presto, but it’s an exceptionally short and spooky Scherzo in 2/4 time. Longer than the Scherzo is a 6/4 Trio section that is followed by a weird chromatic interlude before the reprise of the Scherzo. Two minutes and it’s over.
We’re probably expecting a slow movement coming up third in Opus 130, but the charming and graceful Andante refuses to be pigeonholed. Beethoven recommends that it be played Poco scherzoso (“a little jokingly”), and the result is flirtatious and beguiling. Structurally it sounds like it might be a rondo, but so pleasantly and seamlessly it flows that it’s hard to pull apart. Joseph Kerman writes in his book on The Beethoven Quartets that this movement
offers such a spontaneous flow of musical notions, so perfectly disposed and so brilliantly scored, such an enchantment of intelligence and warmth and airy poise, that analytical formulations seem somehow helplessly beyond the point. (p. 316)
Kerman than admits that “The reader may well glare in disbelief at this statement, coming in this book” — a book that devotes almost 400 pages to relentless analytical formulations of the Beethoven string quartets.
The Opus 130 fourth movement is unambiguously another dance, labeled Alla danza tedesca, the Italian word for “German,” not quite as short as the first dance but almost. It might even be a waltz at first, but then in what might be the Trio section (but probably isn’t) or the second section of a Rondo (but probably not that either), it starts swirling with more energy and before long the first violin is making wild melodic leaps — at one point, three octaves — and it starts to seem quite satirical.
Just when we’ve given up predicting where the Opus 130 String Quartet will go next, appears the famous lovely 5th movement Cavatina. It’s a little opera aria. The first violin sings a mezzo-soprano role to a soft caressing accompaniment. The long winding heartbreaking melody itself is unpredictable, and we follow it like a butterfly through a magic garden.
The Cavatina is in A-B-A form like a real aria, but the middle section (signaled by triplet pulses in the accompaniment) is labeled Beklemmt, a difficult word often translated as “anguished” or “oppressive” or even “nightmarish.” Here the sadness becomes pathos.
“Holz said that it cost the composer tears in the writing and brought out the confession that nothing that he had written had so moved him; in fact that merely to revive it afterwards in his thoughts and feelings brought forth renewed tributes of tears.” (Thayer-Forbes 975)
Which raises the question: What was Beethoven so said about in 1825? He was no longer falling in love with women beyond his reach, and he had long ago come to terms with his deafness. Was it all because of the mess he was making trying to raise his nephew Karl?
Warning: Excessive exposure to the Opus 130 Cavatina might lead one to believe that Beethoven missed his true calling as a composer of opera. (If only he could have avoided the collaboration aspect by writing his own librettos, but can we really expect a composer to do all that?)
Beethoven revels in contrasts, but none is brasher than the next transition: With the aura of the Cavatina still lingering in the air, Beethoven now violently breaks the mood with a three-octave uniform forte G followed by several quasi-atonal thematic fragments.
What follows is unlike anything Beethoven had ever written — a blistering uncompromising dissonant dense assault of sound in which difficult double fugues mix with freer contrapuntal passages leading to an exhilarating mind-blowing climax.
This is the Grosse Fuge (Great Fugue), which Beethoven subtitled Tantôt libre, tantôt recherché — sometimes free, sometimes learned. It is the culmination of Beethoven’s study of counterpoint as well as his boldest thrust into the music of the far future.
The Tantôt libre, tantôt recherché subtitle of Beethoven’s most heroic music suggests not only the mix of the revolutionary and the traditional, but also might evoke Enlightenment debates of Freedom vs. Necessity (or in modern terms, Free Will vs. Determinism).
The first performance of the Opus 130 String Quartet took place on 21 March 1826. Beethoven did not attend but preferred to await the news of its reception in a nearby tavern.
Afterwards, Beethoven was pleased to learn that the Scherzo and Tedesca were encored and had to be repeated but asked “Why not the fugue?” (Beethoven’s scornful labeling of the uncomprehending audience as “Cattles! Asses!” might be apocryphal.)
Early performances of Opus 130 continued to be fine until that last movement. The Great Fugue was difficult for players and baffling to audiences, and Beethoven’s friends began to feel that the String Quartet might benefit if that finale were replaced with something easier.
The controversy over the inclusion of the Great Fugue in Opus 130 has never subsided. To some, the Great Fugue was Beethoven’s original conception of the finale, and hence is his real preference regardless what he might have decided later. Others believe that the Great Fugue severely unbalances the quartet, obliterating everything prior to it starting with the Cavatina. Still others believe that the Great Fugue is belittled by being part of a larger work largely composed of dance movements and mini arias.
The story of the Opus 130 String Quartet and the Great Fugue does not end with today’s posts.