Berlioz – A Life (2)

BERLIOZ – PART 2 – THE 1830’s

We last left Berlioz having won the Prix de Rome and written his Symphonie Fantastique in 1830. By this time the Harriet Smithson episode seemed finally to have been laid to rest and Berlioz had met someone else. Marie Moke was an 18 year old student pianist. It was the composer Hiller who was in Germany who requested Berlioz to promote his case. Berlioz arranged to see her and forgot the appointment. Marie was keener than ever to take up with Hector and he was lucky enough to have her fall into his lap, literally, and to pledge his plight. Apart from which, Marie, unlike Harriet, was a real flesh and blood woman and not someone just viewed from a distance. Marie’s mother was on the look out for a suitable fiancé for her daughter and Berlioz didn’t seem too bad a bet seeing he had just won the Prix de Rome. The terms of the prize were that he must go to Italy and not leave for two years; then do a further year in Germany.

The love crossed couple, having sworn eternal devotion, Berlioz reluctantly left France for Rome at the end of 1831. He had stopped over with his parents on the way, now accepted by them. He sailed for Leghorn on a boat claimed to have been used by Byron and made his way by coach from there to the Villa Medici, home of the French Academy in Rome. There he was greeted by the other prize winners. Their only obligation was to remain in Italy and to send back one work each year to the Conservatoire. Apart from that all there was to do was to soak up Italian sun and culture. He didn’t like Italy. He didn’t like its music and life at the Villa Medici bored him – quite the opposite to Gounod who was to exercise total immersion into Palestrina – and he made every effort to leave the city as often as possible, making frequent trips to the surrounding countryside. His happiest recollections recounted in his Memoirs were relaxing with a guitar in the Abruzzi Hills. .During one of these trips he came across a group of Italian brigands based in France whose aim was the creation of a unified Italy. Well one man’s brigand is another man’s patriot. These travels would later influence some of his music, particularly the symphony, Harold in Italy written in 1834 and inspired by Byron’s Childe Harold.

And then tragedy struck, followed by farce. Berlioz received a letter from Marie Moke’s mother telling him that the engagement was off. And to rub it in, that Marie was going to marry instead Camille Pleyel, son of the composer Ignaz Pleyel and more importantly a rich piano manufacturer. Berlioz decided to return to Paris where he would take revenge on Mlle Moke, Pleyel and the mother-in-law he would never now have, by killing all three of them. For this he took a pair of double-barrelled pistols from the Academy, first to kill them and saving a single shot for himself. He also bought phials of laudanum and strychnine just in case the pistol jammed. At Florence he ordered a woman’s dress from a seamstress plus wig and hat with a veil, partly so as to leave Italy unrecognized just in case he might need to return and also in order to fool his intended victims so as to gain admission to their home. However he managed to leave behind the package of clothing when changing coaches at Genoa. He got as far as Nice, or rather Nizza as it was in the Kingdom of Sardinia and still in Italy. He had begun to cool down and sent a telegram to the Villa Medici to ensure that he would not get deregistered and, with being assured of this, he spent a relaxed month at Nice. One reason for his change of heart was that he felt the need to make important changes to the Symphonie Fantastique and also the realization his art came first and what a tragic loss his death would be to posterity. He also was closely observed by the local police suspicious of him writing in his sketchbook on the beach. When questioned as to what he was up to he said he was composing music. The police were not taken in by this as clearly he could not have been composing without a piano. So he was dispatched back to Rome and safely to the Villa Medici again. There he would meet Mendelssohn who was passing through but neither left much impression upon the other.

Thus was the life of Marie Moke saved and she and Camille Pleyel got married but not to live happily ever after. They separated after four years of marriage on account of her multiple infidelities and she went on to be a celebrated concert pianist to whom Chopin dedicated his Opus 9 nocturnes and she eventually finished up as professor of piano at the conservatory in Brussels. Pleyel is best remembered by the Salle Pleyel, the concert hall in Paris named after him.

Whilst at Nice, Berlioz made extensive amendments to the Fantastic symphony and wrote a sequel in musico-dramatic form, “The Return to Life”, later renamed Lélio, now rarely ever mounted. I saw Eric Porter in the main role back in the 1960’s. The artist now emerges from his dream but still haunted by “that tune”, the idée fixe, and then turns to Goethe and Shakespeare for strength to face up to the life to which he has returned. Symphonie Fantastique was written under the spell of Harriet Smithson. Lélio, still based on the Harriet obsession, was more likely to have been written to exorcise Marie Moke and her mum. It is an example of nineteenth century melodrama, idealistic and more than over the top.

Two overtures emerged from his stay in Nice, “Rob Roy” after Walter Scott as was Waverley and “King Lear”. These are concert overtures as opposed to opera or incidental music overtures. They serve to be a warm up to a concert and more is the pity that orchestras tend to dispense with them these days. King Lear is interesting as it is longer than most concert overtures and could be described as an embryonic form of symphonic poem. Its sopening subject represents a gruff old king sounding rather like the cellos and basses heard at the beginning of the last movement of Beethoven’s 9th symphony. The second subject is a gentle tune presumably representing Cordelia. The two are developed and only then does the main theme appear. Ultimately all three themes are further developed and recapitulated. It may not sound quite like King Lear should sound but then the William Tell overture doesn’t sound like the Swiss hero, more like the lone ranger.

Once back in Rome Berlioz produced nothing of significance. To avoid the heat there he would go to the Sistine Chapel and sit in a confessional reading Byron. These days he’d have to queue for five hours to gain admission. It was there that he hard Palestrina’s music about which he was scathing in his memoirs. Of the succession of chords, he wrote, that one may concede taste and a certain skill to the musician who wrote them. “But genius! They must be joking”. He travelled extensively in Italy and stored up his impressions and experiences. Eventually he obtained permission to return to France early.

Berlioz returned to Paris in November 1832 and his first plans were to mount a concert consisting of the revised Symphonie Fantastique and Le Retour à La Vie (Lélio). When it was eventually performed, there would be amongst the audience Victor Hugo , Alexandre Dumas, Heinrich Heine, Paganini, Liszt and Chopin, Georges Sand, Alfred de Vigny, Théophile Gautier and …..Harriet Smithson. Berlioz needed somewhere to live. His old premises were occupied and he took a place, almost opposite, where it happened that Harriet Smithson had once lodged. It turned out to be the same apartment even. Berlioz learned from the gardienne that Miss Smithson had been back in Paris and had only moved out the day before. What co-incidence After two years absence she had returned as director of the company. However it wasn’t going well and the fickle Paris audiences were no longer keen on Shakespeare or Miss Smithson. Berlioz records that he did not want to get further involved (so he says) but a mutual acquaintance asked him for a box at the concert for Miss Smithson. So it was that she was persuaded to go. When she saw the name of the composer she wondered whether it could be that odd ball from four years before. She knew nothing about the music or what had inspired it although everyone else seemed to know. When she got to the theatre she felt everyone was looking at her and then she recognized Berlioz taking his seat behind the conductor, Habaneck. If the programme note had not made clear the source of inspiration for the music the spoken text of Lélio with its references to his Ophelia and Juliette were enough to convince her, that is if she understood! Shortly afterwards they were introduced. They met at her place. She was down on her uppers, having run into near bankruptcy with the failure of the tour; she’d fallen on getting out of a coach and broken her leg in two places. Despite Berlioz not understanding spoken English and Harriet not knowing any French; despite objections by her mother and his father, they married in a civil ceremony in October 1833 with Liszt as one of the witnesses. (Someone should have an Oscar for this screenplay). The following year their only child, Louis Berlioz, was born.  Unfortunately Berlioz was soon to discover that living under the same roof as the Beloved would turn out to be far less appealing than worship of her from afar. Their marriage proved a disaster as both were prone to violent personality clashes and outbursts of temper.

In 1834, Paganini, himself a virtuoso viola player as well as violinist, had acquired a Stradivarius viola. Having been to the Berlioz concert he asked him to write a viola concerto for him. First of all Berlioz was hardly the person to write concertos for any one, least of all for someone like Paganini. Secondly the viola is an exceptionally difficult instrument to make heard and few had written for it. Mozart, who wrote concertos for almost every conceivable instrument and whose own instrument was itself the viola, managed only a sinfonia concertante (K364) for violin and viola. There are some rare exceptions, a viola concerto by Telemann and a delightful concerto for viola and organ by Michael Haydn. Berlioz was not known for his expertise for any particular instrument let alone writing for the likes of Paganini. What was brewing in his mind was a symphony based on Byron’s Childe Harold with the viola playing the role of the observer to the drama. It was the first fruits of his Italian sojourn, a work where the viola plays a dreamy commentary and without there being any fireworks for the soloist. Paganini, on seeing the first sketches, changed his mind about playing the piece himself. He in fact disappeared off to Nice and then Genoa for the next three years but Berlioz went on with it regardless. The premiere of the piece was held later that year

This is no concerto but a symphony with a prominent solo part, the first of its kind. Lalo wrote his Symphonie Espagnol which is more or less a violin concerto in all but name. Otherwise the nearest comparables are Prokofiev’s Sinfonia Concertante and Britten’s cello symphony. The Berlioz is in four movements with picturesque titles but with little detailed programme compared to the Symphonie Fantastique. It also has an idée fixe, sometimes played on the viola and sometimes heard in the orchestra but unlike the Symphonie Fantastique it does not change in character. The first movement is Harold in the Mountains; the second is a pilgrims’ march to Rome which has a chant like melody, a kind of stanza where each repetition is different to its previous rendition. By odd co-incidence Mendelssohn also chose a pilgrims march for the second movement of his Italian symphony; the third movement is a delightful rustic dance, the Song of the Abruzzi Mountaineer, a bagpipe type moment and a typical Berliozian melody on cor Anglais reflecting on happy moments spent by him in the Abruzzi hills. The fourth movement owes something to the last movement of Beethoven’s ninth in that each of the three previous movements is recalled at the start. In Harold the pilgrim’s march returns near the end. So it is in effect an early example of cyclic form as later advanced by César Franck. In large concert halls the viola can get lost and I wonder if Berlioz might have had in mind a smaller salle. What a pity he didn’t meet Matthew Taylor whose own viola concerto is written with a near chamber group to support the soloist. Harold is a complete individual oeuvre and again amounts to a near first. Few others since have seemed ready to attempt a solo viola work. The best known is the concerto of William Walton in 1928 although there is a peach of a concerto by York Bowen written in 1908, the second performance only of which I heard at St Johns, Smith Square. Max Bruch also turned out some pieces for solo viola and orchestra or viola clarinet and orchestra between 1910 and 1912.

Paganini certainly revered Berlioz and often referred to him as the resurrection of Beethoven. He was not around for the first performance in 1834 as he was still in Italy, a very sick man with throat cancer. He eventually returned to Paris in 1837 where he opened a casino but he lost all his money and had to sell off his collection of instruments to recoup his losses. At the time, the opera Benvenuto Cellini was receiving its disastrous premiere at which Paganini was present.  It was at this time that he heardHarold for the first time and it is said that he went down on his knees before Berlioz and in front of the orchestra. In order further to demonstrate his approbation he sent his ten year old son to Berlioz’s home the next day with a letter addressed to his banker, M de Rothschild, authorising him to pay Berlioz 20,000 francs, a colossal sum, especially from someone with money problems. It allowed Berlioz to pay off his and Harriet’s debts, give up being a critic….for a time, and, most significantly, gave him the time he needed to write his next symphony, Romeo and Juliet. All of this with thanks to Paganini who would be dead within the year.

Although not performed till later Berlioz had written Benvenuto Cellini in 1836 following Harold in Italy. The two together evidence the legacy that the Italian period had left. He had already had in mind a large scale requiem with ideas resurrected from the early Messe Solennelle. Now in 1837 the Minister of the Interior had in mind for his political legacy to have an annual mass written to commemorate the July 1830 revolution which had brought Louis Philippe to the throne. Berlioz was to be the first to be commissioned but there was opposition by the Director at the Ministry of Beaux Arts who carried out delaying tactics as the Minister was shortly to leave office. Fortunately the day before his departure the minister insisted on the commission being sent and Berlioz soon had his Requiem at the ready. At this time France had become engaged in a colonial war to annexe Algeria and following the battle of Constantine, General Damrémont was killed. This then turned itself into an occasion for a ceremonial state funeral at the Hotel des Invalides with the Minister for War now being the responsible minister. At this point, old man Cherubini chimed in that it should be one of his requiems to be played on such an occasion but the new Minister held firm for Berlioz. Next, Berlioz, who by then preferred to conduct his own works, was told that Habaneck always conducted at state ceremonies. Berlioz did not object but was suspicious particularly as Habaneck had declined for the past three years to conduct his works. Thus came the great day when La Grande Messe Des Morts was to be performed in all its glory with the largest orchestra ever assembled, in the presence of King Louis Philippe and his government and the whole world and its dog. And here follows the great story of La Grande Messe des Morts or La Grande Whopper as recounted by Hector Berlioz. Berlioz himself sat in the front not far behind Habaneck and sensing trouble. Habaneck was not exactly a Simon Rattle and was known to put down his baton in order to take a pinch of snuff during a performance. The requiem requires in addition to its already enlarged brass section four brass “choirs” placed above and around the hall to give a quadraphonic effect, coming in the first time as the Tuba Mirum takes over from the Dies Irae. At this point the music slows to half the pace of the preceding Dies Irae. Now these four brass choirs cannot see the conductor and each has a separate conductor of its own who each in turn had to follow Habaneck’s beat. Of all the points in the Requiem, Berlioz states this to be the most critical. Yet it was approaching this very point that Habaneck chose to put down his baton and take out his snuff box. Realising that this would ruin the greatest effect of the Last Day of Judgement, Berlioz jumped up and with arms in the air beat out the change of tempo and all was saved thanks to him and glory be to God but not Habaneck. I have one problem with this. With royalty and government all there and all the visiting dignitaries the occasion was fully reported and acclaimed but not a word mentioned of this singular event! One suspects that the figment of imagination may have become glossed into fact by the time Berlioz had embellished the story and got round to writing his memoirs.

Berlioz considered the Requiem his best work. It needs enormous forces and breathing space for the chorus. (See the Addendum). It is one of those works best heard in the Albert Hall with the chorus stretching up from behind the orchestra to way above the organ loft. The extra brass are placed in loggias and the upper gallery. The full forces are only used in the Tuba Mirum with some of the extra brass joining in the Rex Tremendae and the Lachrymosa. Yet our memory becomes so overwhelmed that we forget that much of the work is quiet and contemplative as in Quid Sum Miser and the a capella Quarens Me (unaccompanied choir). Berlioz experiments in the Hostias by combining a low trombone with a high flute in an attempt to create a rich sonority. In the end it returns to the Te Decet Hymnus from the opening Requiem Aeternam before a final Amen which is out of this world.

The last great work by Berlioz from the 1830’s was his dramatic symphony Romeo and Juliet, again absolutely novel. This time the programme is based on the Shakespeare story as adapted by Garrick and written for both choral and orchestral forces. It is divided into separate Parts, like acts in a play, as well as movements within. Mahler used this concept next in his fifth and eighth symphonies in the first decade of the twentieth century. A tradition has grown up of limiting performance to the orchestral sections alone which is sought to be justified on grounds that the rest is sub-standard. What a pity because the complete work is more rewarding. It contains a prologue for soloists, chorus and orchestra, a trailer for the story with snatches of the music to come. The best known parts for orchestra follow, Romeo Alone, Great Festivities at the Capulet Palace, the lengthy Love Scene and the magical Queen Mab Scherzo which outdoes Mendelssohn. There have been some complete performances on period instruments more recently by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment under both Simon Rattle and Mark Elder. The work continues as choral with the funeral procession for Juliet, a kind of Benedictine chant; the warring families resuming their feud with the most modern orchestral sounds which would do justice to the twentieth century. One stark stabbing outbreak could have come right out of Nielsen’s fifth symphony. In the end the baritone in the role of Friar Lawrence has to overtop chorus and orchestra. As a symphony it is a strange amalgam but don’t underrate it.

Eight years had passed since his return from Italy during which time Berlioz had grown to become a giant of a composer, writing gigantic works, yes, but also containing sections of astonishing intimacy and melody. His wife had become gross and drink sodden, no longer the beautiful Ophelia or Juliet. I cannot say whether Guinness would have been her particular tipple. He had constant battles against the establishment in the Conservatoire and the Opéra as well as government ministries. He was obstinate and impetuous, admired by some and hated by others. Perhaps he should be described as a conviction composer. Now, where might I have heard something like this before?.

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ADDENDUM

The Requiem was scored by Berlioz for a very large orchestra, four offstage brass bands, and chorus placed throughout the hall:

Woods 4 Flutes

2 Oboes

2 Cors Anglais

4 Clarinets

8 Bassoons

Brass 12 Horns

4 Cornets

4 Tubas

Percussion

16 Timpani (10 players)

2 Bass Drums

10 pairs of Cymbals

4 Tam tams

4 Brass Choirs

Choir 1 to the North

4 Cornets

4 Trombones

2 Tubas

Choir 2 to the East

4 Trumpets

4 Trombones

Choir 3 to the West

4 Trumpets

4 Trombones

Choir 4 to the South

4 Trumpets

4 Trombones

4 Ophicleides (usually substituted by Tubas)

Chorus:

80 Sopranos and Altos

60 Tenors

70 Basses

             Tenor Solo

Strings

25 ViolinI

25 Violin II

20 Violas

20 Cellos

18 Double Basses

 

History of the String Quartet – Haydn

 For the summer term of 2011 Matthew Taylor gave a series of Lectures on the History of the String Quartet.  It was to be the first of an intended series ” and covered Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert.  The notes produced for the series were intended to be more biographical than analytical.  That latter aspect was after all supplied by Matthew.  There were doubts by some as to whether the series would be a draw. Happily It turned out to be the best attended to date.

THE STRING QUARTET – JOSEF HAYDN

 Matthew Taylor will this term be giving the first in a projected series of the history of the string quartet and his first two lectures are based on quartets of Josef Haydn.

 Haydn very deservedly has been merited with the name, Father of the Symphony. Yet this may not be strictly applicable. There can be no question however that he would have been entitled to the name, Father of the String Quartet. There were symphonies before Haydn, although it was he who put the symphony on the map with 104 of them. There were no string quartets before Haydn. There was chamber music, frequently with two violins and harpsichord or cello continuo but the string quartet was devised, almost by accident, developed and sculpted into shape by one man, Josef Haydn (1732-1809).

 It came about round about 1754-57 when Haydn was teaching the children of Baron Furnberg and was making a career as a freelance musician. Furnberg, a gifted amateur musician, wanted some music for him and his colleagues to play. The instrumentation available happened to be two violins, viola and cello. For this combination Haydn wrote what he called divertimenti and they were an absolute hit. (Just as well it wasn’t piccolo, bassoon, double bass and kettledrum as the string quartet would have turned out differently). Early versions contained usually five or more movements including two minuets. Soon it settled into the standard four movements, two outer ones fast and in between a slow movement and minuet, following sonata form as in the symphonies which he did not embark upon until the Esterhazy years.

 Haydn kept to this formula in the 83 quartets he was to write afterwards apart from the Seven Last Words of Jesus Christ Op 51 which was a quartet rendering of an orchestral version of 1786 and also his last quartet, op 103, during the composition of which he felt, after managing two movements, too tired to finish and decided there and then to call it a day. The combination was taken up by Mozart and Beethoven with the latter, in his last quartets, sometimes adding further movements. The instrumental combination remained the constant nucleus although there were additions to the numbers. An extra viola by Mozart gave rise to the string quintet. In the case of Schubert on the other hand it was an additional cello. Schumann added a piano to have been attributed with the invention of the piano quintet – (actually Boccherini had done this some fifty years earlier with the fortepiano). The fact remains that underlying these expansions was the basic string quartet as we still know it. There was a tendency in the early 19th century to widen the range of the combination with the addition of the double bass. We best know it in Schubert’s Trout Quintet but it can be found in some lesser known composers such as Ferdinand Ries and Louis Spohr. Mendelssohn’s sextet contains the double bass. This addition changed the centre of musical gravity to give a deeper sonority. However, Schumann, and then Brahms following him, stuck to the pure Haydn-Beethoven form and it has remained a staple compositional form since.

 A word as to the character of the string quartet by one of the audience and not a musicologist. One’s reception and appreciation are bound to differ from person to person. Each has his/her own experiences. It is generally accepted that most people first encounter music through the orchestra and there can be no doubt that orchestral music has a far greater range of colour and dynamics than the chamber models. It is not that one is better than the other but that one is quite different to the other. An orchestra usually has a conductor directing the others and the players follow him/her and not each other. Quartet players play off each other and one can visibly see the eye to eye communication and the fleeting smile in an act of joint communion. They are playing for themselves and not for us. One can’t imagine in an orchestra the cellist on the third desk making eye contact with the second flute unless he plans on taking her to dinner afterwards and for whatever coda there may then follow.

 In an orchestra some instruments are silent for whole movements or for many bars and then entering at the composer’s will to add a touch of colour to heighten the atmosphere. The triangle player having a little tinkle in the third movement of Brahms fourth symphony comes to mind. In Sibelius’s Swan of Tuonela the oboist has one note only, just the one note, which is too high for the solo cor anglais. This is an example of the best economic use of the orchestral palette. None of this however could be found in the string quartet. Here there are four players who are soloists and an ensemble at the same time. Each member is playing for most of the time and everything which is played has relevance. There is no room for waffling in the string quartet as there can be in an orchestral work.

 On the other hand, a solo recitalist, particularly a pianist, whilst not having recourse to variety of sound and colour has the floor to him/herself and can indulge in showing off and showmanship which end with the audience in raptures at such display. This would be anathema in a string quartet and to its audience.

 The sound of the string quartet is both unique and intense. For those coming to the quartet seeking the same frisson as in the orchestra or the bravura of the soloist there may well be disappointment. One needs to listen to a quartet from a different perspective. The difference is like that between watching a great theatrical drama or otherwise a great soliloquy and, contrasted with either of those, listening to four people in a debate on the same wavelength.

 Most people, except contestants on University Challenge, seem to know something about Haydn. An accomplished composer with a good sense of humour, father of the symphony (although most people are only familiar with some of the London symphonies) who was a bit second fiddle to Mozart and finished up as a forerunner to Beethoven, like a two litre car follows a one litre. This is a fairly standard take which gives no credit to the fact that here was the greatest and most revered composer of his age.

 He was born, the son of a wheelwright, at Rohrau bang in the middle of Austria Hungary and is claimed by both of them. His birthplace was on the Austrian side of the river. His education was Viennese. His working career was in both as the Esterhazy family was Hungarian. So what?   Although he was hardly a wunderkind à la Mozart his talent was recognized and through recommendation he became a boy member of the Cathedral choir at Vienna and top soloist. He was eventually dropped at the age of 14 according to one account for the prank of cutting another choirboy’s pigtail but in reality because his voice was breaking. This career might have continued as there was a proposal afoot to make him a permanent soprano to which his father objected. I dare say that in retrospect Haydn himself also preferred the eventual outcome. Certainly the world was left with a better legacy (as was Haydn) with the output of one of the greatest of composers than in the loss of possibly a great castrato.

 On leaving he lived very rough in Vienna for some twelve years. For those who perceive Haydn as a musical lackey as opposed to the freelancing of Mozart and Beethoven it should be known that Haydn was teaching, playing in street bands and looking for odd commissions. He also took lessons from Nicola Porpora, a crusty old opera composer, to improve on his technical knowledge of playing and composing. His compositions for Furnberg led to a recommendation in which he was appointed kapellmeister to Count Morzin in 1758 and in charge of an orchestra of 12.  

 At this time Haydn married but wives were not allowed and Haydn had to conceal the fact, something that probably was a relief to Haydn even if a bone of contention with Mrs H. There are various references to the marriage being not particularly a happy one, most significantly in the later accounts of Haydn’s two London visits, each of eighteen months in 1791 and 1794 and his lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of his return. Mrs Haydn is said to have been a shrew and a religious bigot. At the same time both of them were said to be carrying on their private affairs and doubtless opportunity presented itself to Haydn in his teaching sessions with young trainee sopranos. Perhaps posterity has been unkind to Mrs Haydn. She probably saw irritating aspects of her husband unperceived by others. Who knows what life is like living with a genial genius!

 In 1761 Morzin had to dismiss his orchestra as his profligacy was fast making him broke. Fortunately Haydn was engaged as a vice Kappelmeister to Gregor Josef Werner by the even richer Prince Paul Esterhazy at twice his previous salary. In fact this involved taking over the whole job except for religious music. Records show that a bit of under the counter money laundering went on to hide the fact that Haydn was paid more than Werner. Haydn was able to augment the orchestra to 18 having probably recruited some of players from the Morzin band. In 1762 Prince Paul Anton died and was succeeded by his brother, Nicholas. His musical requirements were as mammoth as the Esteharzy schlosses which he expanded as well as building the Esterhaza palace including its own opera house in the Hungarian plains. In 1766 Werner died and Haydn stepped into his shoes. He was given a three year contract renewable at will by the prince, an arrangement which continued until the Prince’s death in 1790. After that Haydn was still retained and received a pension for life.

 His years with the Esterhazys were contented and busy. His duties which he took in his stride included all matters musical. He attended on the Prince twice a day to discuss the musical requirements. He was in charge of the purchase of musical instruments, looked after the library, edited the music of others, took the Sunday services at the organ, rehearsed the orchestra, became their virtual shop steward in handling their grievances, took choir practices, gave music lessons, rehearsed operas both those which he wrote and those of others. In the evening there were performances of the music including at one time 150 opera performances a year. And on top of this he composed a bit of music including a weekly baryton trio especially for the Prince to play, about 70 quartets, numerous sonatas, about 90 symphonies, various concertos and masses. He also found time to carry on an affair over 12 years with Luigia Polzelli, a rather untalented Italian opera singer, with a much older asthmatic husband , and who claimed Haydn to be the father of her second son. Little wonder he would return home to the moans of his unmusical and querulous wife and lucky for there to be left out a plate of cold wiener schnitzel.

 Having summed up nearly thirty years in one paragraph it came to an end with the death of Prince Nikolaus in 1790 who was succeeded by Prince Anton. He decided to let Haydn go but surprisingly retained him on full salary for life. In turn, this opened the way for Haydn to take up offers previously turned down and, like the Olympics, London, through Johann Peter Salomon, won the bid. 1791 and 1794 were good years for which Haydn produced, inter alia, his twelve London symphonies, his Opus 64 quartets, and was inspired on hearing the choral tradition of Handel to write, on returning to take up residence in Vienna, his two great oratorios, The Creation and The Seasons. Now that, Lord Coe, is what I call some legacy.

 Prince Anton died in 1794 and was succeeded by Prince Nikolaus II. Haydn remained titular Kapellmeister but the demands upon him were modest, an annual names day mass for Nicholas’s wife, Princess Marie Herminegild. There succeeded until 1802 a series of the most powerful masses that Haydn wrote. These were not just standard ecclesiastical sacred masses (which they were) but more in the nature of choral symphonies. He also returned to freelance composition which included his string quartets, opus 71,through to opus 77. His wife died in 1800 and he became frail giving up composition in 1802. He lived on till 1809 and died much at the same time as Beethoven was writing his Emperor piano concerto and to the background of yet another Napoleonic bombardment of Vienna.

 Matthew will deal with the twists and turns of each of the quartets which he will be illustrating and adding further background to the little I append below.

 There is something wonderfully original and improvisatory in all of Haydn’s music giving each work a unique freshness. One always finds new ideas appearing, strange expressions and never the feeling of “I have heard this before”. His quartets have a classical form but never is there a feeling that each work has been written to fit the same template apart perhaps the minuets when they come from the stable of the hotel owning O’Reilly, as to which Matthew himself will enlighten your curiosity!!

 String Quartet in D, Opus 20 No 4. The opus number 20 might lead you to believe these are early works but Haydn’s numberings are confusing. Only quartets appear to have been accorded opus numbers, presumably by publishers, not by Haydn or his cataloguer Antony van Hoboken . The symphonies were largely written for Esterhazy consumption and only have their numbers referred to and then not always in accurate time order. The Opus 76 quartets were written well after the last of the 104 symphonies and they cannot therefore be 76th in order of output. The opus 20’s are reputed to be the onset of the mature Haydn quartet and were written in 1772, some ten years after the opus 17’s and 12 years after Haydn entered service with Esterhazy.

 Like the majority of Haydn’s quartets, the opus 20’s come as a compilation of 6. None of the individual quartets has a name but the package is called “The Sun”, not to be confused with “the Sunrise” opus 76 No 6. These are not Haydn bursting into sunlight but somewhat darker than hitherto. The only reason for the name is that the front cover of the publication by Ataria of Vienna contained a picture of a sun. This note does not set out a satnav description but of interest is the minuet, called Allegretto a Zingarese. Haydn had a penchant for using gypsy music better known in his gypsy piano trio (no 25).

 It is interesting that the best known works are often those given names like Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Haydn’s works contain a number of interesting appellations like “How Do You Do” in his Opus 33’s. I have accorded Op 20 No 4 my own name which I hope will cotton on. I call it “the Bus Conductor” because following the opening of the scherzoid last movement there is a short staccato phrase followed by a curious buzzing like a bus conductor pressing the bell and presumably calling out “Hold very tight please”. Of course Haydn would not have known what a bus conductor was and nor perhaps would some younger members of our audience.

 String Quartet in D, No 5 Op 64 (The Lark). The Op 64’s were written in 1790 at the time of the death of Niklaus and dedicated to Johann Tost. He had been leader of the second violins in the Esterhazy Orchestra. Haydn had written his Op 54’s for him as well and therefore must have had some admiration for his playing. Tost had been previously dismissed but had got his job back. Haydn’s contract made him the exclusive property of Esterhazy and he could not write for others but his works did get out and reached Paris and London. Tost himself appears to have been something of a wide boy who was active in pirating Haydn’s works and selling those of others, Michael Haydn for instance, as those of the more celebrated older brother. Whether Tost was to be the sole recipient or not Haydn was not averse to promising his exclusive products to more than one outlet at a time and he brought three of the Op 64’s to London as well. This one owes its name to the obvious singing violin tune at the beginning, more melodious (but less ornithological) than the ascending lark of Vaughan Williams. The advance on the Op 20’s is remarkable for the variety of ideas these quartets contain. Mendelssohn would surely have heard the last movement which is a forerunner of the fluttery light scherzi for which he became renowned..

 String Quartets Opus 76, No 2 in D minor (Fifths) and No 3 in C (The Emperor)

 This set of six quartets were written nearly ten years on at the time Haydn was established in Vienna and writing “The Creation”. The fifths owes its name to the descending intervals of the opening violin theme. The last movement is full of improvisatory ideas and contains some similar braying to that in Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream Overture

 The Emperor is well known for the use Haydn made of the Emperor’s hymn which he wrote. He uses it in the second movement as a theme and variations although it is probably better described as a Theme with Four Repetitions and Added Figuration. The first movement has particular interest not least for its drone effect.

 Four quartets are not a lot to represent Haydn. So how about us answering the cuts and promote a cycle of all 83 of his quartets!!!

 I would like to end this note with an item of local interest:

 Haydn in Greenwich;

 When Haydn first visited London in 1791 he became interested in anatomy and met John Hunter, the leading surgeon of his day, who lived in Lincoln’s Inn Fields in what is now the Sir John Soane Museum. His wife, Anne Hunter, was a prototype women libber writing poetry. Their friendship flourished and John Hunter offered to remove the polyps in Haydn’s nose although Haydn turned his offer down.

 In 1793 John Hunter had a heart attack and died. He made little provision in his will for Anne as he wanted to give his large collection of specimens to the nation. This left Anne with their two houses in Earls Court and Leicester Square being sold to pay John’s debts and Anne had to find a position as a companion to two ladies living in Maze Hill, Greenwich. Later Parliament ordered the sale of the specimens and Anne’s situation recovered.

 In 1794 Haydn returned for his second visit to London and picked up again on his relationship with Anne which was one of their singing together. Haydn would visit Anne at Maze Hill. He set her poetry to song and these are still played and recorded. They are also said to have had a keen, albeit strange, interest in anatomical parts. In addition to a polyps in his nose Haydn also had a roving eye. We shall never know what went on behind the curtains at Maze Hill but for curious neighbours, both then and now, one can say that plus ça change.