Notes for: August 14, 2007
Dvořák wrote the F minor trio in 1883 in the midst of a psychological crisis, which depressed him and even shook his otherwise unquestioning faith in God. Part of the problem was the death of his mother, to whom he was particularly devoted, following the premature deaths of three of his children. And, part was an agonizing conflict between the two strongest musical influences in his life – those of the Czech nationalist Bedřich Smetana and the more worldly Johannes Brahms.
In 1862, the Czech National Theater had been established in Prague, a milestone in the cultural development of the Czech people. Drawn by this magnet, Smetana, who had been living in Sweden, returned to Prague to become director of the Czech opera and conductor of the orchestra. For these institutions he wrote a series of “nationalist” works, including the opera The Bartered Bride and the familiar symphonic poem The Moldau.
Dvořák, hired as a young violist in the orchestra, was also starting to compose. Of peasant stock, he dedicated himself to the cause of musical nationalism, turning for inspiration to Czech folklore, history and legend. Not only did he write Czech dances and rhapsodies and set folk poetry to music, but he also incorporated Czech folk elements into his symphonic and chamber works.
In 1875, still a struggling composer in the Bohemian hinterland, Dvořák entered an annual competition for composers sponsored by the Austrian Imperial Ministry of Culture. Brahms was one of the judges – although only eight years older than Dvořák, he was already a member of the Viennese musical establishment. Brahms took a strong interest in Dvořák and his compositions, and eventually wrote his publisher, Simrock of Berlin, on Dvořák’s behalf.
On Brahms’s recommendation, Simrock published Dvořák’s Moravian Duets, and they were so successful that he commissioned Dvořák’s Slavonic Dances and a series of other works. Soon Dvořák’s music was in wide demand in Germany, France and England. Further, Brahms and Dvořák became close friends, and Brahms took the less sophisticated Dvořák under his wing, teaching him the fine points of the composer’s craft.
Unfortunately, Brahms also injected an element of stress into Dvořák’s life. Unlike musicians in England and France, who accepted Dvořák as a Czech original, Brahms and his friends tried to “teutonize” him and his music. They urged him to move to Vienna, write opera in German, and direct his genius to something more substantial (that is, Germanic) than provincial Czech idioms. Indeed, Simrock persisted in using German titles for Dvořák’s works and calling him the German “Anton” instead of the Czech “Antonín.”
The pressure on Dvořák reached a high point when Brahms, unmarried and childless, offered to help support Dvořák’s growing family in Vienna, then as now a high-cost metropolis, and to make him an heir to his estate. Dvořák had understandably high regard for Brahms, and the sophisticated musical life of Vienna undoubtedly had strong appeal. Eventually, however, Dvořák’s Czech conscience won out after considerable soul-searching.
As products of this difficult period, Dvořák’s F minor trio and Seventh Symphony, completed the following year, convey a sense of anguish unusual in his music. Fortunately, he learned to reconcile in his music the elements of Czech nationalism and Brahms’s emphasis on the traditional musical forms. In fact, as evidenced by the F minor trio, it was the blending of these influences that gave substance and character to his greatest instrumental works.
The first movement is in standard sonata form, and is truly Brahmsian in the treatment of its themes, their carefully crafted development and their powerful summation. However, the themes themselves have that unmistakable folk-like quality that we associate with Dvořák.
In the second movement, Dvořák follows Brahms’s practice of deviating from the standard scherzo in triple time of Beethoven and Schubert. But unlike Brahms, who typically provides a sweet-sad interlude, Dvořák gives us a melody in 2/4 time that is similar to a Czech folk song of the day.
Following another common Brahms pattern, the slow movement is cast in A-B-A form, with a strongly contrasting middle section. However, the movement is even more characteristic of Dvořák than its predecessors, opening with a cello melody whose plaintiveness anticipates the Largo of his “New World” Symphony.
Czech national elements burst into full flower in the finale. The principal theme is a furiant, a rapid and fiery Bohemian dance in 3/4 time, with frequently shifting accents. For a contrasting second theme, Dvořák converts the 3/4 beat into a waltz. After a development (Brahms’s influence again), the furiant returns with increasing energy. There follows a brief restatement of the first theme of the first movement – another Brahmsian device – and the furiant makes a final, headlong dash to the close.
Notes for: August 6, 2013
Dvořák wrote the F minor trio in 1883 in the midst of a psychological crisis, which depressed him and even shook his otherwise unquestioning faith in God. Part of the problem was the death of his mother, to whom he was particularly devoted, following the premature deaths of three of his children. And part was an agonizing conflict between the two strongest musical influences in his life – those of the Czech nationalist Bedřich Smetana and the more worldly Johannes Brahms.
In 1862, the Czech National Theater had been established in Prague, a milestone in the cultural development of the Czech people. Drawn by this magnet, Smetana, who had been living in Sweden, returned to Prague to become director of the Czech opera and conductor of its orchestra. For these institutions he wrote a series of “nationalist” works, including the opera The Bartered Bride and the familiar symphonic poem The Moldau.
Dvořák, a young violist in the orchestra, was also starting to compose. Of peasant stock, he dedicated himself to the cause of musical nationalism, turning for inspiration to Czech folklore, history and legend. Not only did he write Czech dances and rhapsodies and set folk poetry to music, but he also incorporated Czech folk elements into his symphonic and chamber works.
In 1875, while still a struggling composer in the Bohemian hinterland, Dvořák entered an annual competition for composers sponsored by the Austrian Imperial Ministry of Culture in Vienna. Brahms was one of the judges – although only eight years older than Dvořák, he was already a member of the Viennese musical establishment. Brahms took a strong interest in Dvořák and his compositions, and eventually wrote his publisher, Simrock of Berlin, on Dvořák’s behalf.
On Brahms’s recommendation, Simrock published Dvořák’s Moravian Duets, and they were so successful that he commissioned Dvořák’s Slavonic Dances and a series of other nationalist works. Soon Dvořák’s music was in wide demand in Germany, France and England. Further, Brahms and Dvořák became close friends, and Brahms took the less sophisticated Dvořák under his wing, teaching him the fine points of the composer’s craft.
Unfortunately, Brahms also injected an element of stress into Dvořák’s life. Unlike musicians in England and France, who accepted Dvořák as a Czech original, Brahms and his friends tried to “teutonize” him and his music. They urged him to move to Vienna, write opera in German, and direct his genius to something more substantial (that is, Germanic) than provincial Czech idioms. Indeed, Simrock persisted in using German titles for Dvořák’s works and calling him the German “Anton” instead of the Czech “Antonín”.
The pressure on Dvořák reached a high point when Brahms, unmarried and childless, offered to help support Dvořák’s growing family if he moved to Vienna, then as now a high-cost metropolis, and to make Dvořák an heir to his estate. Dvořák had understandably high regard for Brahms, and the sophisticated musical life of Vienna undoubtedly had strong appeal. Eventually, however, Dvořák’s Czech conscience won out after considerable soul-searching.
As products of this difficult period, Dvořák’s F Minor Trio and Seventh Symphony, completed the following year, convey a sense of anguish unusual in his music. Fortunately, he learned to reconcile in his music the elements of Czech nationalism and Brahms’s emphasis on the traditional musical forms. In fact, as evidenced by the F minor trio, it was the blending of these influences that gave substance and character to his greatest instrumental works.
The first movement, allegro ma non troppo, is in standard sonata form, and is truly Brahmsian in the treatment of its themes, their carefully crafted development and their powerful summation. However, the themes themselves have that unmistakable folk-like quality that we associate with Dvořák.
In the second movement, allegretto grazioso, Dvořák follows Brahms’s practice of deviating from the standard scherzo in triple time of Beethoven and Schubert. But unlike Brahms, who typically provides a sweet-sad interlude, Dvořák gives us a melody in 2/4 time that is similar to a Czech folk song.
Following another common Brahms pattern, the slow movement, poco adagio, is cast in A-B-A form, with a strongly contrasting middle section. However, the movement is even more characteristic of Dvořák than its predecessors, opening with a cello melody whose plaintiveness anticipates the Largo of his “New World” Symphony.
Czech national elements burst into full flower in the finale, allegro con brio. The principal theme is a furiant, a rapid and fiery Bohemian dance in 3/4 time, with frequently shifting accents. For a contrasting second theme, Dvořák converts the 3/4 beat into a waltz. After a development (Brahms’s influence again), the furiant returns with increasing energy. There follows a brief restatement of the first theme of the first movement – another Brahmsian device – and the furiant makes a final, headlong dash to the close.