CHAPTER VII.

THE VARIATION FORM--THE MINUET.

The process of musical development we have been considering in previous chapters has tended gradually but surely towards freedom of expression and, at the same time, definiteness of form. As this process has advanced, melodies have become less and less constrained, yet the forms themselves have crystallized into certain accepted types. The ideal of all this progress was unity and variety; in other words, composers felt the desire to expand their powers of expression and saw that this expansion must in the nature of things conform to certain æsthetic principles and obey certain laws. Mere luxuriance of speech without order or system means confusion; but order and system without living feeling means aridity. These two elements must go hand in hand, and in the music of masters like Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms they do.

The so-called variation form admirably illustrates these tendencies. From its very beginning down to the present day there has been a constant re-adjustment of its expressiveness and its formal interest; a constant attempt to strike the right balance between the two qualities. The form is almost as old as music itself. From the earliest times composers have felt the necessity of varying their tunes by one device or another. Even before the other primitive forms had crystallized, crude variations existed, and we find old hymn tunes or popular songs repeated over and over again with elaborate changes of phraseology or with contrapuntal devices. Certain arid processes--such as writing a tune backwards--were sometimes employed, and a study of the whole range of the variation form in its early stages reveals a constant fluctuation.

I. VARIATIONS BY JOHN BULL.

Among the most interesting of these early attempts to solve the problem are certain pieces by the English composers for the harpsichord who lived in the latter part of the sixteenth century. John Bull (1563-1628), a chorister in the Chapel Royal of Queen Elizabeth, was one of the most famous of these, and he has left us several pieces in variation form, one of which, "Courante Jewel," is well worth our attention.

The courante (Fr. _courir_, to run) is one of the old dance forms that became imbedded in the suite, where it followed the opening[20] Allemande. This particular example of the courante illustrates the habit, common at that time, of writing pieces based on well known dance rhythms such as we have studied in Chapters IV and V. Composers attempted to provide further interest in their pieces by giving them special titles. We find, for example, one of Byrd's harpsichord pieces called "Galiardo, Mrs. Mary Brownlo," and one of Bull's entitled "Pavana, St. Thomas Wake." This tendency in English music towards definiteness of idea, and away from all that is vague, has been already noted in our chapter on "Folk Songs."

The "Courante Jewel" is an interesting example of a form of variation that has now become practically obsolete. It consists of four separate melodies, each immediately followed by its variation. The plan might be expressed by the following formula: A, a; B, b; C, c; D, d, the large letters representing the themes and the small letters the variations. The first theme begins as follows:

[Music: score] FIGURE XXVIII. From first theme of Bull's "Courante Jewel."

The complete theme is sixteen measures long and is divided off into phrases of regular length. This is immediately followed by the variation, the corresponding portion of which will be found in Figure XXIX.

[Music: score] FIGURE XXIX. Part of the variation.

In Figure XXX are shown the first phrases of the second, third and fourth melodies, in order that the reader may see how distinct is each one.

[Music: score] II

[Music: score] III

[Music: score] IV

FIGURE XXX.

This little piece illustrates what has been already said about freedom of expression. It does not impress us as strictly dance music; it is manifestly written for its own sake and represents that natural tendency to create something beautiful which underlies art everywhere. But in respect of order and design we find here a decided weakness. Four separate and successive ideas, each followed by an elaboration of itself, would make a poor model for any art. One feels a sense of vagueness after listening to a piece so constructed; no single idea dominates; one longs for some point upon which the attention may be centered.

II. A GAVOTTE AND VARIATIONS BY RAMEAU.

Pauer's "Alte Meister," Vol. I, contains another interesting experiment in the variation form, a "Gavotte and Variations" by Rameau (1683-1764). The opening phrase of this Gavotte runs as follows:

[Music: score] FIGURE XXXI. First phrase of Gavotte by Rameau.

In the variation of the above, which will be found in Figure XXXII, the theme is presented less definitely than in the original, while the upper part in sixteenth notes makes a kind of free counterpoint.

[Music: score] FIGURE XXXII. First phrase of Variation by Rameau.

What has been said in our last chapter of Couperin's harpsichord pieces applies to these variations of Rameau. There is in them a kind of refinement and delicacy that characterizes all the French music of that period. The theme itself is less naïve than that of the "Courante Jewel," and more suggestive of the slow movement themes of the sonatas of later composers. In fact, this has in it little of the real Gavotte, its meditative quality is too strong and its rhythms too weak.

These two compositions admirably illustrate the general striving for some ordered means of expression in secular music that characterizes the seventeenth century. It was a time of groping. Sacred music had largely occupied the attention of composers, and few paths had been opened for those who desired other means of expression, so that the problem of secularization was the all-important one. It must also be kept in mind that this particular advance could not take place until musical instruments and the technique of playing them had been perfected. As late as 1571 Ammerbach's "Orgel oder Instrument Tabulatur" was published, forbidding the use of _either the thumb or little finger_ in organ playing, and writers of the seventeenth century speak of certain uses of the thumb in playing as "daring innovations." Couperin in his "L'Art de Toucher le Clavecin," published in Paris in 1717, advocates a system of fingering that still uses the thumb in a clumsy manner, and it was not until John Sebastian Bach's method of tuning by "equal temperament" and his new system of fingering came into use that music for the harpsichord and clavichord was freed from the old incubus of an awkward mechanical technique. For it is obvious that an art can never reach anything like perfection as long as its working materials are inadequate. In piano playing, for example, one could not use chords spread out far beyond the grasp of the hands until the sustaining pedal had been invented. While these conditions existed, composers naturally turned their attention to sacred music and to the opera, where there were fewer limitations.

Among the many examples of the variation form produced in the time of Couperin and Rameau the most important are those of Bach and Handel. Since we are here dealing with the precursors of the sonata and symphony and with the development of homophonic music, we shall not discuss Bach's celebrated "Goldberg Variations," which are masterly examples of his intricate and vivid polyphony, but shall turn to a set of variations in more modern form by Handel. The reader may, however, consult the second Sarabande accompanying Chapter V for an example of Bach's method of elaborating a given theme.

III. HANDEL'S "HARMONIOUS BLACKSMITH."

Our chapter on the suite has given the order in which the various dances usually appeared, and mention was there made of the exceptions occasionally to be found among the works of adventurous composers.

George Frederic Handel (1685-1759) composed a set of "Suites de Piéces pour le Clavecin" containing several movements not usually found in the suite form. Among these are "Allegros," "Prestos," and "Arias con Variazioni," while in Handel's "Sonatas" are to be found sarabandes, gavottes, and bourreés. In other words, the suite and the sonata, as conceived by Handel, are more or less convertible forms; it is not until the next generation that the modern sonata begins to emerge in the pianoforte works of Philip Emanuel Bach. (See Chapter VIII.) These distinctive pieces represent the groping of composers after some new and more flexible medium of expression than that provided by stiff dance forms. And this same fundamental principle of growth is what, many years later, led Beethoven to enlarge the scope of the sonata, and still later produced the symphonic poem of Liszt and other modern composers.

Each phase of an art has its culmination where a medium becomes perfected--and therefore exhausted; where the flower blooms and dies. This point is reached when some great master unites in his works two essential qualities complementary to each other, namely, the idea and its formal investiture. Such a point was reached in Bach's Fugues, in Mozart's Symphonies, and in Beethoven's String Quartets; in all these the two great elements of perfection were united. In Mozart's G-minor Symphony, for example, the thing said, and the manner of saying it--the design, the orchestral expression, etc.--are identical, but in the instrumental works of Handel the matter was still in process.

"The Harmonious Blacksmith" is in the fifth of the "Suites de Piéces pour le Clavecin," commonly known as "Lessons," and composed for Princess Anne, Handel's royal pupil, daughter of the Prince of Wales. This suite consisted of the following pieces:--I. Prelude, II. Allemande, III. Courante, IV. Air.

EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 10.

_Handel: "The Harmonious Blacksmith," from the Fifth Suite for Clavichord._

The biographies of Handel give several versions of the story supposed to be connected with this little piece. It seems to be quite certain that the composer never used the title, and that it has one at all is probably due to the fact that the public seems to like a piece better if it is supposed to be "about" something. Many similar uses of supposititious titles will occur to the reader, as, for example, the "Moonlight" sonata of Beethoven, and the "Rain-drop" prelude of Chopin, neither of which grotesque names was ever sanctioned by the composer. If this tune of Handel's ever was sung by a burly smith at his forge he was indeed an "harmonious" blacksmith. In any case, it is a matter of record that the identical anvil was finally "discovered" by a Mr. Clark and found a resting place as a curio in an "Egyptian Hall" in London.

The tune itself has qualities familiar enough to students of Handel's instrumental music. Its final cadence, in particular, is thoroughly Handelian, and all through it there is that decisive and assertive manner that characterizes the melodies of this great man. There is nothing of the mystic about Handel; his oratorios and nearly all his smaller pieces have a straightforward and uncompromising style. He never gropes; his music speaks of an unfaltering self-confidence, unclouded by doubts.

The methods of treatment in the variations is a simple one. The harmonies remain the same throughout, while the melody is changed in various ways. In variation I, for example, the first two notes of the original melody have been made into an arpeggio, or broken chord, and this treatment persists throughout. In variation II the melody loses something of its physiognomy, and is only suggested by occasional notes in the upper or lower part for the right hand, while the left hand plays a familiar pattern accompaniment. Variation III plays lightly with the original theme, hovering around it with delicate scale passages.

This variation illustrates an important principle of musical appreciation. Played by itself, without reference to what has preceded it, it would be so lacking in definiteness as to be uninteresting; its connection with the original theme, however, lends to it a certain charm and significance. So in the longer instrumental pieces of the great masters who followed Handel, we find whole sections whose meaning depends on their relation to what has preceded them, and our appreciation of the significance of such passages is in exact proportion to our powers of co-ordinating in our own minds these various sections of a work, often separated from each other by a considerable lapse of time.

The fourth variation is like an inversion of the third, the left hand now taking the rapid scale passages. Variation V is the least definite of them all, being made of scales played against chords that dimly outline the original melody.

"The Harmonious Blacksmith" is not a highly developed piece of music, for it lacks one essential element--in an instrumental piece as long as this there should be some _germination_. The several variations of this melody are merely slightly altered versions of the original idea; in highly developed specimens of this form each variation is a new creation germinated from the parent thought.

IV. HAYDN'S ANDANTE WITH VARIATIONS IN F-MINOR.

Reference has already been made in our chapter on "The Rondo" to the great advance in pianoforte music brought about by Philip Emanuel Bach and Haydn, but Haydn's Andante with Variations in F-minor is still more mature than any of the pieces to which we referred. In fact, this Andante is Haydn's most charming pianoforte piece, uniting as it does the best of his qualities. It is the first composition in homophonic style we have studied in which the interest of the listener is constantly engaged from beginning to end. There are here no bald repetitions, as in the Rondo of Mozart, no meaningless accompaniment figures, no conventional endings, but from first to last Haydn tempts us onward by constantly unfolding new beauties, yet never leaves us vaguely wandering, doubtful of our starting point. In short, this andante is a fine example of a well organized piece of music; it is full of variety, yet its unity is unmistakable.

EXAMPLE FOR ANALYSIS, No. 11.

_Haydn: Andante with Variations in F-Minor._

It is unusual for a variation theme to be in two distinct parts, as is the case here. The chief theme in F-minor is followed by a "trio" theme in F-major of quite a distinct character. This is one of the many interesting experiments of Haydn in devising new forms or combining old ones. The weakness of this arrangement is that the whole theme is a little too long; it lacks the conciseness that is necessary to a theme that is to be treated in a long series of variations. The trio theme is also less interesting than the first theme and does not lend itself so readily to variations.

An important principle of musical development is involved here. It will be found from an examination of the music of the great composers that the most perfect lyric melodies do not germinate, whereas themes like the first theme of this andante, the first theme of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony--which are not by any means beautiful lyric melodies--are pregnant with possibilities. Any perfect melody like "Annie Laurie," for example, is a complete thing; nothing can be added to it or taken away from it. The two themes just mentioned, on the contrary, are made up of motives which are characterized by some individual quality and which contain certain potentialities that are realized only as the piece progresses. And in general it may be noted that the distinctly lyric composers, such as Schubert, Schumann, and Grieg, have not been conspicuously successful in those larger forms where this principle is most operative.

The little motive of five notes with which the right hand part of the andante by Haydn begins illustrates this. There is hardly a measure of the original theme and of its variations in which this motive is not heard, and the variety Haydn imparts to it is quite remarkable. The trio theme, on the other hand, is more lyric--more song-like, and, as a consequence, we find the variations consist of elaborate ornamentations of the theme rather than of new ideas germinated from it.

Variation I is a particularly interesting example of Haydn's style. The syncopation in the right hand part, with its delicacy of utterance, and its occasional tender poignancy (as at measure 52) gives to this portion of the piece an unusual charm. The transposition of the syncopation to the left hand (at measure 56) is particularly interesting because of the delicate dissonances that result. The passage at measures 83-88 might almost have been written by Rameau or Couperin, so full is it of trills and other ornaments. This is in the old harpsichord style of the generation before Haydn.

Variation II preserves the harmony of the original theme, but supplants its melody by a fluent and interesting passage in sixteenth notes that passes at will from one hand to the other.

These two free variations, through which the original theme has dimly shone, are now succeeded by a finale, so called, in which the theme is presented in its simple form as if to bring the listener home again after his excursions afield. And here, it should be specially noted, Haydn omits all reference to the trio theme, as if conscious of its inferiority. The whole finale (from measure 147) is a kind of dramatic summing up of the story, and serves much the same purpose as that of the restatement in ternary form.

The passage between measures 195 and 200 is an interesting example of a process common in pure music. Here the motive of three notes (in right hand), derived from the original five note motive in measure 1, gradually loses its physiognomy until its characteristic outline has entirely disappeared and it has become a purely conventional figure. A celebrated example of this process is shown in Figure XXXIII from the first movement of Beethoven's String Quartet, op. 59, No. 1.

[Music: score] First phrase of Theme from Beethoven's Quartet, op. 59, No. 1.

[Music: score] Passage from Development Section.

FIGURE XXXIII.

The passage from which the second of the quotations is taken is one of the most beautiful in all chamber music, and the whole development section in this wonderful movement will repay the closest study.

Haydn's andante ends with a few tender allusions to the persistent motive of the original theme, which faintly echoes in pathetic cadence. Such passages endear Haydn to us because of their genuineness. There is nothing false in his sentiment; he is always straightforward, he always writes unaffectedly. Among the great composers he stands apart as a simple-hearted man, who was without guile, and who retained to the end of his life the same childlike naïveté.

V. THE MINUET.

The general characteristics of dances like the minuet, gavotte, etc., have been referred to in Chapter IV, where the inclusion of the minuet in the sonata and symphony of the classical period was noted. We are here chiefly concerned with the effect of this inclusion on the minuet itself and with its status in the group of movements that made up the cyclic form.

The minuet is a dance of French origin, characterized by stateliness and grace. The earliest music written for it consisted of one melody containing two eight measure phrases. These were gradually lengthened, and finally a second minuet was added as in the gavotte. Bach used the minuet sparingly in his suites. The reader is referred to the fourth English Suite, which contains a minuet followed by minuet II, not called "Trio." Handel occasionally incorporates the minuet in his suites and frequently uses it as the last movement in his oratorio overtures. All these old minuets were in slow tempo, but the desire for freedom of expression impelled composers not only to expand them in various ways, but, finally, to increase their speed. This important change was doubtless largely inspired by the desire for contrast in the movements of the symphony, for in the sonatas of Haydn and Mozart we find the middle movement usually an andante or adagio, and when the minuet[21] is incorporated it is in slow tempo.

Practically all the minuets of Bach and Handel as well as those of the Haydn-Mozart-Beethoven period were written in what we have called "simple ternary form," the second minuet, or trio, constituting the middle section, B. Occasionally a minuet with two trios appears, in which case the form becomes A, B, A, C, A. Marches (which are commonly in simple ternary form) are quite frequently written with two trios, the most familiar example being the well known wedding march by Mendelssohn.

The symphonic minuet is the only relic of the suite retained in the sonata and symphony. The changes it underwent through this promotion from the ranks of the old dances were not only changes of tempo, but of spirit or essence. For whereas it had been demure, conventional, and stately, as if pervaded by a kind of courtly grace, it became in Haydn's time a wayward, humorous, and even frolicsome member of musical society, and provided a certain lightness and spontaneity much needed in the sober symphonic family.

The reader is urged to consult any of the minuets to be found in the string quartets or symphonies of Haydn and Mozart. These popular short movements are so available in arrangements for the piano that it is not thought necessary to incorporate one here.

SUGGESTIONS FOR COLLATERAL READING.

_Grove's Dictionary: articles "Minuet," "Sonata," and "Symphony." Shedlock: "The Pianoforte Sonata." Mason: "Beethoven and His Forerunners."_

FOOTNOTES:

[20] In Bach's English Suites a Prelude is placed before the Allemande.

[21] See the Minuet in Haydn's piano sonata in E-flat (No. 3 in Schirmer edition) and the Minuet in Mozart's well known piano sonata in A-major (with the Theme and Variations).