Beethoven's 'Kreutzer' Sonata: Nineteenth-century Art of Arrangement - One Piece, Three Ways

<p>Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’ Sonata transgressed the expectations – and likely captivated the minds – of early nineteenth-century musicians and audiences alike. The ‘Kreutzer’ is stylistically removed from his Op. 10 No. 1 composed less than six years earlier; it demands virtuosic technical proficiency from both performers. Through the combination of harmonic evasion playing on audience expectations in the first movement and the conversational interplay between the personalities of both performers and instrumental parts alike, this audacious work has fascinated the minds of both listener and critic from the 1803 premiere through to the modern day. In 1805 an Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung review suggested that it would require two virtuosi to study the work in order to communicate the ‘Groteskeste’ work to an audience – this is indicative of not just technical difficulty but also the importance of the dynamic relationship between the two partners of the duo to the ‘Kreutzer’. This highly charged relationship inspired Tolstoy and Prinet (and by extension Janacek and many twentieth-century film and multimedia artists) to create adaptations of ‘Kreutzer’. High-quality musical arrangements of ‘Kreutzer’ appeared as early as 1827, when Carl Czerny completed a four-hand version of ‘Kreutzer’. This was closely followed by an anonymous string quintet arrangement released by the Simrock publishing house in 1832. These arrangements translated the virtuosic sonata into different mediums for wider dissemination, making it more readily available to both musicians active in the chamber music scene, and domestic students and dilettantes proficient at the piano. Both arrangements manage to transform the ‘Kreutzer’ into a different format while retaining aspects of both the conversational relationship between musicians as well as the technical demands of Beethoven’s original sonata. The string quintet arrangement tends to fragment melodic ideas between parts, rather than transplanting entire phrases or providing a direct transcription – exceptions generally occurring at important transitions or particularly special moments. This generates a highly differentiated conversational landscape to that the original, which manifests also in the visual shift to five performers. While the arranger also reworks some of the piano writing into more idiomatic string writing, it still demands a high level of technical proficiency from all five players. The four-hand arrangement reworks the same dialogue and thematic ideas into a more intimate setting, taking an almost entirely opposite approach to the quintet. As the two instrumental parts are combined for one instrument, the difficulties from Beethoven’s piano part are divided quite literally between primo and secondo. In a similar manner, the conversational and thematic interplay resemble Beethoven’s original in a far more direct manner than the quintet. Although the four-hands medium is recognised more for study and wider transmission of concert pieces, it is difficult enough that the virtuosic essence of Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’ is maintained. This dissertation closely examines the relationship between the two instruments within Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’ Sonata, and the manner in which both the contemporary arrangements above maintain and alter that relationship through the transformation into another format. In addition, it explores why the textural and idiomatic changes in both arrangements – fundamental and ornamental – remove none of the virtuosic and captivating essence of Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’, while simultaneously allowing them to bridge the divide between the emergent nineteenth-century concert hall scene, close study of the score, and domestic music-making.</p>

Beethoven's 'Kreutzer' Sonata: Nineteenth-century Art of Arrangement - One Piece, Three Ways

<p>Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’ Sonata transgressed the expectations – and likely captivated the minds – of early nineteenth-century musicians and audiences alike. The ‘Kreutzer’ is stylistically removed from his Op. 10 No. 1 composed less than six years earlier; it demands virtuosic technical proficiency from both performers. Through the combination of harmonic evasion playing on audience expectations in the first movement and the conversational interplay between the personalities of both performers and instrumental parts alike, this audacious work has fascinated the minds of both listener and critic from the 1803 premiere through to the modern day. In 1805 an Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung review suggested that it would require two virtuosi to study the work in order to communicate the ‘Groteskeste’ work to an audience – this is indicative of not just technical difficulty but also the importance of the dynamic relationship between the two partners of the duo to the ‘Kreutzer’. This highly charged relationship inspired Tolstoy and Prinet (and by extension Janacek and many twentieth-century film and multimedia artists) to create adaptations of ‘Kreutzer’. High-quality musical arrangements of ‘Kreutzer’ appeared as early as 1827, when Carl Czerny completed a four-hand version of ‘Kreutzer’. This was closely followed by an anonymous string quintet arrangement released by the Simrock publishing house in 1832. These arrangements translated the virtuosic sonata into different mediums for wider dissemination, making it more readily available to both musicians active in the chamber music scene, and domestic students and dilettantes proficient at the piano. Both arrangements manage to transform the ‘Kreutzer’ into a different format while retaining aspects of both the conversational relationship between musicians as well as the technical demands of Beethoven’s original sonata. The string quintet arrangement tends to fragment melodic ideas between parts, rather than transplanting entire phrases or providing a direct transcription – exceptions generally occurring at important transitions or particularly special moments. This generates a highly differentiated conversational landscape to that the original, which manifests also in the visual shift to five performers. While the arranger also reworks some of the piano writing into more idiomatic string writing, it still demands a high level of technical proficiency from all five players. The four-hand arrangement reworks the same dialogue and thematic ideas into a more intimate setting, taking an almost entirely opposite approach to the quintet. As the two instrumental parts are combined for one instrument, the difficulties from Beethoven’s piano part are divided quite literally between primo and secondo. In a similar manner, the conversational and thematic interplay resemble Beethoven’s original in a far more direct manner than the quintet. Although the four-hands medium is recognised more for study and wider transmission of concert pieces, it is difficult enough that the virtuosic essence of Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’ is maintained. This dissertation closely examines the relationship between the two instruments within Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’ Sonata, and the manner in which both the contemporary arrangements above maintain and alter that relationship through the transformation into another format. In addition, it explores why the textural and idiomatic changes in both arrangements – fundamental and ornamental – remove none of the virtuosic and captivating essence of Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer’, while simultaneously allowing them to bridge the divide between the emergent nineteenth-century concert hall scene, close study of the score, and domestic music-making.</p>

Op. 131 and the Rise of Attentive Listening

This chapter begins with a discussion of Mark Andre’s ensemble work riss 2 (2014) as an alternative window on the modern-day reception of Op. 131—the two works can similarly disrupt our ontological understanding of musical works in terms of structure, sound transformations, and especially sense of time. I then step back to consider the larger context in which Op. 131 was originally heard, setting it within an emerging ideology of “serious listening” in Vienna in the early nineteenth century. I consider the early nineteenth century as an era in which the seeds for silent listening were sown, by key agents of change, who tried to adjust audience behavior at string quartet concerts—influential figures such as Schuppanzigh, Beethoven, and reviewers for the Wiener Theater-Zeitung and Viennese Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung in the 1810s and ’20s. Beethoven’s C-sharp minor quartet can be understood as a work that took part in this move to instill silent and serious listening. However, the climate in Vienna was not was not such that Beethoven (and Schuppanzigh) could enjoy much success with this particular listening project. The “romantic listener” does not represent a nineteenth-century norm, and was certainly not the norm in Beethoven’s Vienna. But the compelling ideology of listening and associated habits that started to develop there—especially reverent silence—continue to influence powerfully our concert hall behaviors today.

Fifth Symphony by Ludwig van Beethoven According to Version by Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann

The purpose of the article is to characterize the research of its author entitled “Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony in the version of E. T. A. Hoffmann. In the kingdom of infinity” (Saglietti B. La quinta sinfonia di Beethoven recensita da E. T. A. Hoffmann. Nel regno dell’infinito), published in Turin in 2020. The monograph presents new scientific works on the creative heritage by L. van Beethoven; the events having taken place after the first performance of the composer's Fifth Symphony are considered; its musicological analysis, written by E. T. A. Hoffman in 1810, is characterized; its place and role in Italian musicology are determined.The Fifth Symphony was first performed in Vienna on December 22, 1808, this concert performance was as famous as it was unfortunate. The complexity of the piece, its insufficient rehearsal preparation, and the restraint of the audience caused a partial fiasco of the premiere. Beethoven was furious and foresaw negative reviews. Fortunately, he was wrong. Seven months later, the director of the largest German music newspaper, the “Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung”, sent to Bamberg the edition of the symphony for piano four hands and an extensive review by E. T. A. Hoffmann, who was the first to recognize the Fifth Symphony as a masterpiece, thus determining its fate. It is his critical review that is considered one of the first reviews of music in the history, in the modern sense. But in Italy this original version was forgotten. Later, in “Fantasiestücke in Callot’s Manier” (1814 — first edition, 1819 — second), the review was published in an abridged form under the title “Beethoven's Instrumental Music” and translated into Italian several times.The monograph compares Hoffmann's review with its later, abridged version of the essay, and presents the author's methodology of the first Italian annotated edition; the circle of readers to whom Hoffmann appealed is outlined, it is emphasized that the Italian scholars have long accepted the essay as a review. The essay has been translated into French and English and has been published many times in German.

First-Person Beethoven

With the growing perception of composers as oracles, the person of Beethoven became the key to understanding his music. The reminiscences, biographies, and letters that came to light in the years immediately after the composer’s death, particularly the so-called Heiligenstadt Testament, bolstered the perception of his works as an outpouring of his inner self. Critics came to regard Beethoven’s life as a nonfictional Bildungsroman, a record of personal growth and development that was audible in his compositions. Reviews of the late works in A. B. Marx’s Berliner allgemeine musikalische Zeitung in the 1820s proved particularly influential in setting the tone for the future reception of Beethoven’s music within a hermeneutic framework. Later biographies would posit highly detailed connections between specific works and events in the composer’s life.

Music for a Culture Hero

Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony has often been described as “Haydnesque.” But neither the extent of Haydn’s influence nor Beethoven’s motivations for emulating him has been carefully explored. In early 1806, publisher Breitkopf & Härtel began issuing the “London” Symphonies in full score, allowing many connoisseurs to study the works for the first time. Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony, composed that summer, bears numerous compositional affinities to these works (especially Nos. 99, 102, and 103). By turning to the “London” Symphonies for inspiration, Beethoven memorialized his former mentor while capitalizing on the Haydn mania that was sweeping theaters, concert halls, and the pages of journals like the Leipzig Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung.

Między wizją a praktyką. Początki niemieckiej opery romantycznej w ujęciu E.T.A. Hoffmanna

Artykuł poświęcony jest stworzonej przez E.T.A. Hoffmanna teorii nowej opery niemieckiej oraz pierwszej próbie przełożenia jej na praktykę. Jego opowiadanie Poeta i kompozytor (1813), które ukazało się na łamach lipskiej „Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung”, to rozpisany na dwa głosy program opery romantycznej, która ma czerpać inspirację ze świata nadprzyrodzonego, a także dążyć do spójnej poetyckiej wizji. Część postulatów wyartykułowanych w analizowanym opowiadaniu oraz w korespondencji z tamtego czasu E.T.A. Hoffmann zrealizował w Ondynie (1816) do libretta Friedricha de la Motte Fouquégo na podstawie baśni literackiej pod tym samym tytułem, wytyczając tym samym kierunek dalszego rozwoju gatunku.

"Carta a un tal barón von…” de W. A. Mozart sobre el proceso creativo

El artículo trata sobre la concepción romántica del “genio creador”, mediante el análisis de una carta atribuida a Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, escrita en 1791. La carta la publicó Johann Friedrich Rochlitz el 23 de agosto de 1815 en la Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung de Leipzig, y desde entonces ésta ha sido el centro de atención de filósofos, historiadores y musicólogos. Su interés se centra en el proceso de la creación musical y en cómo el “genio creador”, el compositor, percibe mentalmente la obra musical ya terminada antes de escribirse. Mi objetivo es mostrar, en el análisis de esta carta, las limitaciones del racionalismo musical que no ve más allá de la partitura, creyendo que la música se encuentra en las notas o en sus relaciones numéricas bajo una percepción visual y arquitectónica.

Writing at the Speed of Sound: Music Stenography and Recording beyond the Phonograph

Music shorthand systems devised by Michel Woldemar, Hippolyte Prévost, and August Baumgartner adapted the quill strokes of speech stenography to the seemingly analogous domain of music. Eschewing conventional staff notation in favor of cursive lines that indicated pitch, register, interval, and duration, music stenographers endeavored to record in real time instrumental improvisations and fleeting inspirations that would otherwise have been lost forever due to a lack of recording technology. To advocates of such methods, more efficient technologies of musical writing were indispensable for capturing fugitive musical thoughts and acts: music stenography aided Hector Berlioz, for example, in the composition of his Requiem. For others, including Rossini, Fétis, and contributors to the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, the claims and merits of stenography were a source of controversy as well as fascination. Grounded in a corpus of seventy music stenographies that have been largely ignored by musicologists and historians of technology alike, this article asks how musical intuitions became musical texts, thereby entering print-based networks of circulation. Although the importance of “genius” and “work” as historical concepts regulating the production, ontology, and reception of nineteenth-century music has long been acknowledged, the material basis of these concepts has been overlooked until recently. The efforts of musical stenographers demonstrate that the inscription and circulation of material texts provided the means by which musical inspiration could be registered and stored, constituting a material substrate on which such idealist concepts depended. Whereas historians of sound recording have focused on seismic historical and cultural shifts wrought by the introduction of the phonograph in 1877, the preoccupation with capturing music in the decades preceding and following this date suggests an alternate conception of text-based sound recording.