Beethoven - Violin Sonata no.9 in A Major, op.47, "Kreutzer" (1803)
Every now and then I have to admit a serious gap in my listening experience. The kinds that would get “How haven’t you heard X? Why don’t you like Y?” reactions from other fans. Today’s admission is that, even though I’d known about it and listened to it a few times, I never really “got” or “loved” Beethoven’s Kreutzer Sonata. But I listened to it again the other week and it clicked with me more, and then I saw today that it was Beethoven’s birthday and so I ought to make a post about it.
Like the Waldstein, Kreutzer is the name of the dedicatee, and the story is a little more interesting than Waldstein’s connection; originally, Beethoven had written the sonata for a great violinist George Bridgetower whom he had met in Vienna in 1803, and they had a concert together where they premiered this sonata. Sadly, this friendship and collaboration ended quickly after some vague argument over a woman (the details aren’t clear, it seems like Bridgetower had been dismissive or rude about a woman that Beethoven admired, and Beethoven’s temperament made it easy for him to cut someone out of his life), and so the dedication was quickly changed to another violinist, Rodolphe Kreutzer. Maybe less “deservidly” since Kreutzer was not a fan of the music; he had a more conservative taste, and his own violin technique did not match with the demands of the sonata. Reading up on this history made me feel some solace in that I can relate to Kreutzer about not having immediate enjoyment of the work. I wonder how many people in history would have different opinions of the great works of music if they were able to access them more often. My own life reminds me that great music does sometimes demand more time and attention, more repeated listenings, more revisitings, to fully understand what is going on, or to better follow a composer’s thought process.
What strikes me from the Kreutzer Sonata is this date of 1803, and realizing Beethoven had published this before his Third Symphony. Like his early Viennese chamber works with piano, the keyboard part is demanding, but unlike the early vehicles for Beethoven to show off his technique, the Kreutzer Sonata is equally demanding for both musicians and neither part comes off as virtuosity for the sake of display and spectacle.
The sonata opens with the violin alone, declaring a short four bar statement that, I cannot help but say, seems to announce the sonata’s length and magnitude. I’m probably biased knowing that this sonata is of larger proportions than what was expected at the time, but the opening phrase acts as a mini introduction to the full introduction section, and as the germ that will be the basis of development through the movement. The piano comes in and we are taken away from A Major, and after a ponderous mood we resolve into A minor instead and are caught off guard that the first movement will actually be in the parallel minor of the title tonality. The music is characteristic of Beethoven’s minor mode dramas with a heavy rhythmic drive pushing us forward. The next theme section is a more delicate and slower contrast revising the opening adagio, before bringing back the more dramatic section. This time the texture is given more variety by including broken octaves in the piano and pizzicato from the violin. The development section pushes the drama by having the theme cycle through a display of chord progressions and contrapunctual play that is reminiscent of Bach’s more intense baroque moments. Later the piano and violin take turns displaying impressive scales that bring us into a quiet transition toward the recapitulation. The revision of the exposition includes more chromaticism which makes the drama even more intense as we are pulled into the coda, the sudden drop in volume creating a more striking effect, a hushed Alberti accompaniment while playing octaves of the tonic minor triad…Beethoven uses this effect in other works and it gets me every time! The adagio opening repeats, surprises us by briefly bringing back A Major, before softly settling in A minor, and then slapping us with a louder and more emphatic ending.
The slow movement is a set of variations on a chordal theme introduced in the piano before the violin joins in. The theme is charming, made more interesting by the thicker harmonic texture underneath. The second half of the theme includes a repetitive use of trills. The first variation is rooted in the light trill texture and is more carefree. The second variation is mostly lead by the violin playing out the rhythm in a kind of “vulgar” way (not offensive; common, like a lowbrow Austrian dance). It also puts heavy emphasis on half-steps in the bouncy rhythm. The third variation is a bit more stern, taking us into the minor and the piano going up and down in soft waves of chords under the violin’s singing melody. The fourth variation starts off Mozartian with lighter colors on an Alberti bass, violin plucking, and little trills and mordents in the piano. The violin takes up the melody while the piano accompanies with lighthearted chords. The last variation opens with a recitative-like passage in the piano which then accompanies the violin singing a soulful melody before turning into a trilling accompaniment for the piano, and the two exchange parts of the melodic content with more lovely arpeggios in the piano.
The finale hits us with A Major, (a surprising move to hold the main tonality off until the end!) and it is a fun dance off of a galloping tarantella rhythm, with the melody trading between the two instruments. The movement is full of impressive runs and sequences in both instruments, every now then pausing for a more relaxed choral statement. The music then brings back the opening Adagio tempo, before flying into a brilliant coda.
Movements:
Adagio Sostenuto - Presto
Andante con variazioni
Presto
