Notes for: August 13, 2024
In 1795 Beethoven introduced himself as a composer to the Viennese musical world with his Opus 1 Piano Trios. In the years that followed, he consolidated his reputation with performances and compositions in Vienna and elsewhere that won him the applause, good will, and financial support of the music-loving aristocracy. In 1796 he wrote to his brother from Prague, “I am well, very well. My art is winning me friends and respect, and what more do I want? And this time I shall make a good deal of money.”
During these years in which he was promoting himself publicly, he was also hard at work mastering the Viennese Classical style in all its major chamber-music forms. Over the next few years he wrote many piano sonatas, sonatas for cello and piano and violin and piano, string trios, and works for winds. For popular consumption he also wrote easy piano variations, dances, arias, even a sonatina for mandolin and piano. For the most part Beethoven was sticking to the Classical norms established by Haydn and Mozart, honing his skills while writing music that didn’t ruffle the feathers of conservative Vienna. Slowly but surely, though, his own musical personality was emerging.
Although Beethoven already had written a few string trios – a six- movement divertimento modeled after Mozart’s K. 563, and a six-movement serenade — the three Opus 9 Trios were his first and only string trios in the traditional four-movement sonata format. The first of the three is a delight from beginning to end, a witty and buoyant work distinguished by elegant interplay among the three instruments, and by rich and varied harmonies throughout. The Trio opens with a graceful Adagio introduction that teases about where it’s headed before it segues into a spirited Allegro con brio marked by deft conversational and rhythmic exchanges. Among its charms are a second theme in an unexpected minor key, a development section rich with key changes, and a harmonically surprising coda.
The second-movement, Adagio ma non tanto e cantabile, opens with an even bigger surprise: The Adagio is in the harmonically remote key of E Major, a feature that would have disconcerted Viennese audiences who expected to listen to works with predictable key relationships. The violin takes the lead in this wonderfully expressive movement that shifts moodily back and forth between major and minor. The light-hearted Scherzo that follows paves the way for a bravura sonata-form Presto, with Beethoven throwing caution to the wind as violin, viola, and cello giddily chase one another up and down scales and arpeggios. A recurring, more spacious minor-key second theme gives the music some breathing room before it picks up speed and hurtles to its breathless conclusion.