The year was 1826. Beethoven was revolutionizing the string quartet. Spohr was no musical revolutionary, and he much preferred Beethoven’s Opus 18 quartets to the late ones. His quartets improved in quality and offered some surprises, but he never ventured far from Haydn’s model. This doesn’t mean they aren’t worth listening to; it was a long time before any major composer matched Beethoven’s level of experimentation. Jan Swafford’s biography of Brahms says, “By mid-century the string quartet like the symphony appeared a moribund genre despite the dozens of composers writing them.”
This is the third installment in my blog series on Spohr’s 36 string quartets. Just as a reminder, I’m only a musically literate amateur, and these are my opinions usually based on one or two hearings. Each day I try to listen to one and add some comments on it to this draft, so my mood from day to day can affect my reactions. It’s a tour, not an in-depth analysis.
The scores of Spohr’s quartets on IMSLP have been very helpful.
Here are links to the first two posts in the series:
Quartets 20-22
Once again, Spohr quartets come in threes. Beethoven was going places Spohr couldn’t grasp, but the opening of the 20th quartet, Opus 74, No. 1, shows he’d been listening to Beethoven. It opens dramatically; a dotted half preceded by a grace note from below is prominent through both themes and adds to the drama of the coda. A motif in the second movement recurs years later in the thirtieth quartet and the fifth symphony. The second movement’s main melody is slightly reminiscent of the round “Oh, wie wohl ist mir am Abend” (in English, “Oh, How Lovely Is the Evening”).
There’s no tempo indication for the scherzo, allowing for a range of interpretations. The middle section isn’t designated as a trio, and the return of the first section is significantly rearranged, with the parts coming in a different order and sometimes at a higher pitch. The fourth movement uses a drone with the main theme and Scotch snaps (a sixteenth and dotted eighth) in one of the other themes. Was Spohr trying to make it sound Scottish?
The second one in the set (Quartet No. 21) makes the first violin more of a first among equals than most of Spohr’s quartets. There is a lot of interplay among the instruments. The first movement is mostly graceful but has some dramatic moments. The second movement is a Larghetto in G minor with a sad main melody. The middle section, in G major, starts with a wonderful moment where the cello gets the melody for four measures in its high range.
The third movement isn’t a minuet or scherzo but an “Allegretto con variazioni” in B-flat. There are five variations, with the fourth in B-flat minor and the last with lots of 32nd notes for the first violin. Some of those notes even have trills on them. This puts a limit on how fast the “Allegretto” can be.
The finale is also marked Allegretto but can be taken much faster than the previous movement. It’s a battle between the B-flat minor of the main theme and the major-key episodes. In the coda, the main melody finally turns to major, and the quartet seems to end with decisive chords declaring the victory of the forces of light — then there’s a brutal C-flat, and the piece ends in a quiet, dejected mood, though technically in the major key.
The Quartet No. 22, in D minor, is longer than most of Spohr’s quartets to date, running well over half an hour with the first movement repeat. The first movement presents a broad range of moods, but the best part is the scherzo. Both the scherzo proper and the trio have a rather spooky sound, enhanced by massed staccato eighth notes and accidentals. The finale has a lot of momentum, with all the instruments having a significant part. At the end, though, it runs out of steam. That was clearly the effect Spohr was aiming for, but I find it disappointing. All three of the quartets in this set suggest a loss of energy at the end.
Quartets 23-25
The next three quartets make up Opus 82. They date from 1828, so we’re now in post-Beethoven territory. The first of them, Quartet No. 23, has some surprises in the first movement. Although it’s supposed to be in E, it starts with an open fifth on C in the cello and viola, and the second violin completes the C major chord. The opening theme is tonally unstable, not really hitting E major till the 25th measure. The recapitulation starts with the second theme, followed by an abbreviated version of the first theme that functions as a coda. The second movement presents a simple tune with a more elaborate middle section. Next comes another spooky scherzo. In the trio, the lower strings shake things up with off-beat accents. In the sonata-form finale, which opens in E minor, the first and second themes use the same three-note motif. The quiet ending finishes on an E major chord, the naturals on F, C, and D mean it’s not in E major, but rather in the Phrygian dominant mode, aka the Spanish scale. If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you may remember I used it to accompany The Mark of Zorro.
Clive Brown calls the second of the set (Quartet No. 24, in G major) “one of Spohr’s best.” The first movement has the unusual touch of a pianissimo recapitulation. The second movement is expressive, with broken two-note units like a catch in the voice. The most unusual feature of the quartet is the third movement, which is a vigorous polacca. The finale seems about to end softly, as Spohr’s quartets often do, but finishes with an unexpected emphatic unison gesture. The Moscow Philharmonic Concertino Quartet’s performance may not have done the work justice; the first movement is marked Allegro, but they take it at a leisurely Allegretto.
Quartet No. 25 in A minor, the third in the set, has several unusual features. The first movement could be considered monothematic; the second theme is very similar to the first. When the second theme, initially in E major, returns in the recapitulation, it’s in A major, but the coda brings the movement back to A minor, with the end marked morendo.
The second movement looks forward almost to Stravinsky in its meter. The time signature is “4/8 3/8.” At first, the two meters alternate, effective putting the music in a moderately slow 7/8. Soon, though, the alternation breaks up. This movement will keep toe-tappers on their toes. The third movement is another spooky scherzo, and the trio uses a basso ostinato. The coda fades away, but at the very end is a forte unison, like the ending of the previous quartet.
The finale is the high point of this quartet. It opens with a slow A minor introduction which is full of portent. The music accelerates to the main theme, Allegro in A major, based on the same motif as the introduction — which has some resemblance to the main motif of the first movement. It becomes hesitant and slips briefly into the minor before reaching the second theme in A major, offering a brief but impressive moment of peace. Instead of a development, what comes next is a return of the introduction. It briefly makes it into the major this time, only to fall back. The recapitulation returns to A major — but if you’ve learned anything from this overview, it’s that you never know how Spohr will end a quartet till the players have put down their bows. OK, I know because I’m reading the score, which in the last three lines has poco ritardando and pianissimo, stringendo and crescendo to fortissimo, a sudden pianissimo, and a morendo on a major chord with the flattened sixth that Spohr so often used. No final fortissimo chords after all that. Not this time.
Quartet 26
Immediately following Opus 82 is the Opus 83 quartet in E flat. It’s another Quatuor Brillant, with the usual excesses of that type, but it has quite a few interesting features. The first theme is graceful and folk-like, and the second is marked “dolcissime.” The first theme doesn’t come back in the recapitulation, which starts with the second theme in G flat.
The Adagio, in the unexpected (but not for Spohr) key of B major, is quite expressive. I especially like the move from F-sharp to G major as the first theme returns. The third movement is a lively polacca; I’d even call it sassy. in the middle of the rondo form, a dramatic theme in C minor provides contrast.
Quartets 27-29
The next three quartets are a set that immediately follow in numerical sequence as Opus 84, but there was a gap of over two years before them. During this time his only important work was an opera, Der Alchymist, that wasn’t very successful. The year 1831 saw the beginning of increasing troubles in his life, including the death of his brother.
The 27th quartet in D minor, Opus 84, No. 1, has an unusually serious opening theme. The opening motif carries into the second theme, as it often does with Spohr. The first violin’s decorations are mostly countered by a darker tone in the other instruments. The ambiguous major with a flattened sixth works well at the end of the movement. The scherzo has steady driving force, and the finale covers a range of moods. The ending is strong and definitely in D major, completing a darkness-to-light progression.
The next quartet, No. 28, Opus 84, No. 2, is gentle and graceful. The first movement, in A flat, builds some tension in the development, but it doesn’t stay for long. The Adagio, in E flat, starts with a very simple melody. The second part of the theme has more ornamentation. The middle part is a development section rather than a new theme. The scherzo is rather ordinary. The finale returns to the graceful mood of the first movement, though the secondary theme has a bit of “alla turca” feeling. The movement seems it will end strongly, but the last measure is quiet. It’s definitely in A-flat major, with no chromatic tones, so it completes a mostly peaceful work.
Quartet No. 29, the third of the set, is in B minor. In listening to it, I remembered that Johannes Brahms was born not long after Spohr wrote this set. This quartet anticipates Brahms in some ways, and it’s frustrating how often it builds a texture and mood and then spoils it with Spohr’s persistent tendency to add fancy passages. I can imagine Brahms looking at it years later and thinking, “I could do that, but right!” The opening in B minor is impressive, as are many parts of the first movement, but it isn’t consistent. The second movement is a minuet, and all I’ll say about it is to stay around for the wonderful slow movement. The first part, in G major, is simple and serious; the middle section, in E minor, is strongly passionate. A finale in a cheerful B minor wraps up the quartet, which is one of the few Spohr quartets to end in a minor key.
Quartet 30
Spohr wrote his next quartet, Opus 93, in one of the most tragic times of his life. He completed it in 1835, soon after his wife Dorette had died. It’s another Quatuor Brillant. Just looking through the score shows vast amounts of tedious chords and figures for the lower three instruments. The first movement, in A major, has a short Andante introduction in 9/8, introducing a motif which is used in the main section. The motif which I mentioned in connection with the twentieth quartet recurs here, a couple of years before making its appearance in the fifth symphony. The second movement is in F, and as usual for a Quatuor Brillant, there are just three movements. The last movement, in A minor, is lively, ending in an ambiguous major mode.
After the 30th quartet, it was a full decade before Spohr wrote another string quartet, so what we could call his “late quartets” will go into the next and final post.