Schubert: Piano Trio No. 2 D 929 and Notturno D 897

Description

At thirty, Franz Peter Schubert had reached a maturity of both language and content in his composition that few other composers, at any age, can claim to have obtained. Ludwig van Beethoven had died a few months before, and his sad demise had opened up new possibilities for younger composers in the city of Vienna. Schubert could have looked rather optimistically to his future and his career, which, seemingly, could now find new outlets. But his illness loomed on him and on his prospects, and he was possibly aware that the time in front of him was short, possibly very short. He would die in November 1828, at 31; but during that last year, he managed to write an incredible quantity of large-scale works, virtually all of which are extraordinary masterpieces. There are the three last Piano Sonatas, all exceptional in their beauty and concept; there are song cycles among the most perfect ever written; and, among other major works, there are the two compositions recorded here, which, alone, could justify the crowning of Schubert in the Gotha of classical music.
As a genre, the Piano Trio had a relatively short history at Schubert’s time; the first masterpieces in this genre had been written not even a century before. And, generally speaking, the first great Piano Trios tended to contemplate this genre from the viewpoint of “lighter” music. Many (beautiful) Trios seemed to contain lyrical, dramatic, or touching passages almost in spite of themselves. They belonged, properly, in the domain of music for “amusement”, frequently written for cultivated and able amateurs, or for the enjoyment and delectation of members of the aristocracy or upper bourgeoisie. As said, this destination did not preclude the presence of moments of intense depth and profundity, in the hands of great and inspired composers; however, in a manner of speaking, such moments were almost afterthoughts, or hidden gems, within a musical texture which was not explicitly looking for them.
With Mozart, and especially with Beethoven, this was to change dramatically; but it is likely that none of them brought the genre of the Piano Trio as far as Schubert did. With Schubert, we observe something in the line of an upgrade, a level change; even the sheer duration of Schubert’s Piano Trios bears witness to this new, daring concept. Piano Trios had been thought of as “chamber music”: music for private amusement rather than for the concert stage, music with a generally intimate style, rather than a symphonic concept. Whilst moments of tender confidence are far from missing – indeed, Schubert can be defined as the undisputed master of this style – there is also an incredible ambition in his Trios; they aim at demonstrating that a great symphony’s length and size may be sustained by the comparatively “thin” combination of two bowed string instruments and a piano.
Schubert had tried his hand at the form of a Piano Trio and at this combination of instruments in his teens, just after losing his treble voice and thus finishing his tenure as a choirboy. In his teens, Schubert was already a genius of music, and he wrote absolute masterpieces well before his twentieth birthday. However, he was possibly dissatisfied with the result: what could have become a complete Trio was abandoned after writing the opening Sonata allegro. In spite of this, of course, it is still a piece absolutely worth listening.
Schubert would revert to this genre toward the end of his life, as said before (which means, as we should keep constantly reminding ourselves, just some fifteen years after his teenage days!). He wrote a couple of sibling Trios, op. 99 in B-flat major and op. 100 in E-flat major, plus an individual movement which has come to be known as “Notturno” and is recorded here along with the second Trio.
Robert Schumann, who was one of the first who understood Schubert’s greatness and greatly contributed to its dissemination, loved to compare the two larger Trios and did so in these terms: “Inwardly they differ in essential ways. The first movement of the E-flat work is a product of deep anger and boundless longing, while that of the B-flat trio is graceful, intimate, and virginal. The slow movement, which in the former is a sigh intensified to the point of an anguished cry of the heart, appears in the latter as a blissful dream, an ebbing and flowing of beautiful human feeling. The Scherzos are similar, though I prefer the one in the second trio [in E b]. As for the finales, I cannot decide. In a word, the second trio is more active, masculine, and dramatic, while in contrast, the other one is passive, feminine, and lyrical”. Today’s readers may frown in front of what they can perceive as gender stereotypes in Schumann’s review; yet, undeniably, Schumann hits the point in underpinning the complementarity of these works and their opposing characteristics. Among the two, both greatly admired by Schumann, the reviewer’s preference went to the second Trio, in E-flat. He defined it as Schubert’s “last as well as his most independent and individual work”. Writing in 1836, Schumann further added that “Schubert’s Piano Trio in E flat [had] swept through the musical world like an angry portent from the skies”.
Evidently, Schubert himself thought highly – and rightly so – of this piece, which displays some features which are exceptional even within its composer’s own oeuvre. For instance, it is one of the comparatively few large-scale works which appeared in print during Schubert’s lifetime; and one of the very few to be played publicly or semi-publicly in the composer’s presence. The deliberation with which the composer set to work appears clearly even from the titlepage, proudly marked with that “op. 100” which marks a milestone in a composer’s output. Writing later to his publisher, Probst, Schubert would specify that he wished no individual dedication to be added to this Trio. “This work is dedicated to nobody, except to those who will appreciate it. This will be the most suitable dedication”.
Schubert certainly knew that those who would be able to truly appreciate this gigantic score were not a legion. It is an extremely demanding piece, in terms of instrumental writing (with several passages which are very uncomfortable to play, and which, furthermore, do not look it – so, virtuosity without applause, so to say) and of interpretive choices. Whilst Schubert is astonishingly capable of keeping the listener’s attention high in spite of the monstruous length of this score, it still requires an intense effort of the players in order not to destroy its refinement through boredom or repetitiveness.
Schubert was fully aware that he was setting a complex duty before his performers. He wrote to his publisher, Probst, in the following terms: “Dear Sir, I am enclosing the trio you requested, although it seemed to me that the price of 60 guilders was for a notebook of songs or piano pieces and not for a trio, which requires six times as much work. In order to get things moving at last, please proceed with the publication as soon as possible and send me six copies. The abbreviations in the last piece [movement] must be followed to the letter. Have the Trio performed for the first time by people who are up to the task, and make sure that the tempo, especially in this last piece, is kept regular with each change of metre. The Menuetto (i.e. the Scherzando) in tempo moderato is absolutely piano, the Trio, however, with force, unless p or pp is indicated.
In anticipation of a speedy publication, I remain with the sentiments of my highest consideration.
Sincerely yours, Franz Schubert”.
The cuts mentioned by the composer were operated (ruthlessly but judiciously) on the fourth movement, which lasts more than 800 (!) bars in its original, untouched form. Only in recent years have performers begun to play it as Schubert had first conceived it – and, performed by accomplished artists, it has not one superfluous note. It is likely, however, that Schubert considered and devised the shortened version after the work’s premiere. (Not that the performers on that occasion were second-rate musicians, of course: Schubert had had the rare privilege of enlisting some of Vienna’s best performers. The premiere was given privately, at the home of Schubert’s friend Josef von Spaun, at a party celebrating his engagement in January 1828, close to Schubert’s last birthday. The players were Ignaz Schuppanzigh, the first violinist of Vienna’s most renowned string quartet, Josef Linke at the cello, and Carl Maria von Bocklet at the piano).
After this semipublic premiere, the work was performed once more, publicly, at the “Academy” given for Schubert’s profit at the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde on the following 28th of March.
Among its movements, all very characterized and broadly conceived, the best known is probably the slow one, which has been popularized in countless movies and TV shows. It is an unforgettable piece, where a disquieting march-like accompaniment supports a broad melodic line, built by Schubert upon the recollection of a Swedish folksong (Se solen sjunker) sung by Isak Albert Berg to Schubert at a party at the Fröhlich sisters’ house. This theme, evidently a favourite of the composer himself, returns touchingly in the fourth and last movement, building a cyclic form typical for his last work.
The Notturno is another slow movement of incredible beauty, which arguably had been originally conceived as the Adagio for Trio op. 99. The label “Notturno” is spurious – it has been added by the publisher after Schubert’s death. In spite of this, it is not an illogical or arbitrary indication. It is an enchanted movement where Schubert’s magical ability to play with timbre appears clearly and mesmerizes the listener.
Together, these two works demonstrate how forward-looking was this composer: he could unite the visionary energy of youth with the nostalgic, mature, and disillusioned wisdom of somebody who is already close to death. But who, in spite of all, is still capable of hope, tenderness, and of incredible sweetness.
Chiara Bertoglio © 2024