Arpeggione Sonata

Today’s program samples from three distinct genres: solo sonata, accompanied sonata, and lieder (art song). Franz Schubert composed well over 600 lieder, and he is, without doubt, the single most important figure in that tradition. We find him writing songs from his early teens up to his final days. At nearly every turn, even in the instrumental works, we confront moments of lyricism that belie a vast experience with song. Partly innate and partly acquired (through his lessons with Antonio Salieri), Schubert’s lyrical genius both hampered his treatment of larger forms but ultimately helped him transcend such conventions in his later works. Finally, it is through song that we trace abundant echoes, and quotations from his earlier works as well as influences drawn from other composers.

In yesterday’s notes, we discussed Schubert’s precarious mental and physical health after receiving the diagnosis of syphilis late in 1822. At the lowest ebb of his emotional journey, in November 1824, Schubert acceded to popular taste by composing a sonata for bowed guitar or arpeggione. Invented the year prior, the arpeggione burst onto the musical scene, then faded away almost as quickly. It survives today as a historical relic, and even that modest existence largely stems from the attention accorded it by Schubert’s excellent Sonata in A Minor, D.821. The work carries its expressivity rather lightly, especially in the finale. It is worth noting that it was composed at the same time as the well-known “Death and the Maiden” String Quartet in D Minor.
The simple piano introduction in A minor recalls Schubert’s earlier piano sonatas in that key, though there is an even older recollection at work. In 1816 Schubert penned three Sonatinas for violin and piano, the second of which is in A minor and greatly resembles the “Arpeggione” first movement. One of the strongest links is the colorful use of B-flat major (the distant Neapolitan key) in their opening phrases. After a second theme in C major and a modest development, Schubert leads us back to the B-flat chords from the introduction. This aural link nicely prepares the return of the main theme, which arrives after a brief cadenza in the cello part. The only new gesture heard during the recapitulation is a mincing version of the theme, a passage that strongly foreshadows the stark, raw mood of “Auf dem Flusse” from Winterreise (1827).
The slow movement features a familiar melodic cell as the basis of its serene main theme, a “sol-do-re-mi” gesture that recalls the slow movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 2. During the B section Schubert enjoys moments of greater dissonance and agitation, as in the Baroque style repeated melodic seconds (e.g., E and F). The delightful Rondo theme wonderfully captures Schubert’s easy lyricism: nothing is hurried or out of place, the progressions smooth and the melodic shape balanced. Hungarian folk idioms burst forth in the fiery second (B) theme, though—staying closer to home—elements of its texture also recall the second theme from the first movement. I mention these resemblances not to minimize Schubert’s originality but rather to reinforce his eclecticism.
Both the first and last movements of the sonata eschew transitions between thematic sections. This is less noticeable in the Rondo finale, a form which by its nature juxtaposes contrasting episodes. In the opening Allegro, however, the inter-theme pauses make the first theme feel slightly “square” and hemmed in. I would not belabor this point were it not for the abundance of cases where Schubert proceeds by non sequitur rather than a logical thread. Generations of critics regarded Schubert’s lack of developmental connections as a black mark when viewed against the classical models of Mozart or Beethoven. But Schubert’s use of silence as a transition becomes even more significant in the last years of his life; to wit, the many pregnant pauses that delineate structural joints in the F-minor Fantasie. The final work on today’s program will offer another case in point.

(c) Jason Stell