Variations on Trockne Blumen

For most of his adult life, Franz Schubert enjoyed the support of a coterie of Viennese artists, writers, and musicians. Schubert, the most gifted member of the group, formed its focal point. This close-knit social structure carried him through several attempts to establish himself as a schoolteacher, though he soon dropped his hopes for a career in that field. Beyond moral and financial support, his friends provided a ready audience and helped to secure commissions. They also witnessed the onset late in 1823 of the illness—probably syphilis—that would prove fatal, bringing Schubert’s life to its all-too-early conclusion at age 31.

It is striking that Schubert should have enjoyed one of his most prolific creative periods in early 1824: a time when his health was a constant concern, and the social nexus—upon which he relied so heavily—was coming apart at the seams. The winter of 1823-24 was a period of anxious soul searching. It resulted in a decisive change in his attitude toward composition: Gone were the attempts to capture public acclaim in the opera house, and in their place Schubert turned to instrumental music. He had resolved, as he put it, “to pave my way to a grand symphony” by perfecting the realm of chamber music. This resolution parallels his spiritual turn inward, whereby the composer’s attentions devolved more intensely on family and a few friends, to the near exclusion of casual socializing.

The fruits of Schubert’s new direction first appeared in the Octet in F Major and the string quartets in A Minor and D Minor, two of his finest. As the D-minor quartet shows, the relationship between song and instrumental music continued to inspire him, having been explored most famously in the “Trout” Quintet for Piano and Winds of 1815. For the Introduction and Variations on “Trockne Blumen” (“Withered Leaves”), also written in early 1824, Schubert looked back to the 18th song in his newly-composed cycle, Die schöne Müllerin. Schubert’s response to the song includes an introduction, theme, and seven variations.

The introduction strikes a funereal tone to which subsequent variations gradually bring some light. This opening section calls upon plagal progressions, rapid repeated octaves, and an almost “oriental” touch of modality (note the lowered-2nd and raised-3rd scale degrees of E minor). Schubert concludes the Introduction on an expectant half cadence, followed by the quotation of “Trockne Blumen.” The theme is simple and internally repetitive—ideally suited for a set of variations. The harmonic structure depends on clear points of arrival at the relative key (G major), which are often marked by an immediate and brief pause. In the final phrase Schubert turns to the parallel major (E major) for welcome brightness.

Whereas the material of the theme is straightforward and declamatory, the first two variations dive immediately into virtuosity. In Variation 1 the flute solo performs challenging quick-note runs replete with neighbor-note figuration, while in variation 2 the pianist must navigate a constant stream of rapid, left hand octaves. Variation 3 comes on in obvious contrast to the preceding sections, starting as a lyrical romance in E major. The two instruments enjoy a bit of casual call-and-response imitation, a brief respite before variation 4 thrusts us back into the heart of a minor-mode tempest. Variation 5 turns again to the style of a virtuoso showpiece for flute with frequent octave leaps and fleet arpeggios. Variation 6, the only one in triple meter, introduces a more graceful, lilting topic. Its simplicity works well between the heated 5th variation and the final 7th variation. Marked Allegro, variation 7 begins with a strident march in E major. Midway through the movement, however, Schubert—master of the musical parenthesis—pulls out a striking mood change. He drops a few hints in the form of evaded cadences and then brings the forward motion to a standstill on a diminished 7th chord. The new mood is only a brief, lyric episode nestled within the prevailing march tempo. Schubert recalls the mood change a few moments later, but the E-major march carries the day from an expressive standpoint. The final phrases punctuate its victory in no uncertain terms.

By the end Schubert has left behind the brooding atmosphere of the “Withered Leaves” in favor of extroverted, virtuoso charm. This may not be his most profound work, nor is it as ambitious formally or harmonically as his other works. It is enjoyable and lively, and that—given Schubert’s state of mind at the time of composition—proves far more touching.

(c) Jason Stell