Redoutensaal with masked ball, engraving by Weimann Photo (c) Julia Teresa Friehs
12 German Dances, WoO 13 for piano (1796, Beethoven aged 25
no.1 in D major no.2 in B flat major no.3 in G major no.4 in D major no.5 in F major no.6 in B flat major no.7 in D major no.8 in G major no.9 in E flat major no.10 in D major no.11 in A major no.12 in D major
Dedication possibly Vienna Artists’ Pension Society Duration 14′
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Background and Critical Reception
The general feeling among Beethoven commentators is that this set of 12 German Dances, like the previous ones we have heard, were written for orchestra. It is reasonable to assume they would have been a repeat commission for the masked charity ball of the Viennese Artists’ Pension Society, given the success of the previous year’s commission in 1795, but on this occasion no orchestral scoring survives; just a short score for piano.
Thoughts
These are lively pieces and good fun to listen to – and no doubt good fun in the ballroom too. Their full value would be revealed there, for to listen to them without the dancing means they start to blend in to one after a while.
Recordings used and Spotify links
Gianluca Cascioli (DG) Jenõ Jandó (Naxos)
You can chart the Arcana Beethoven playlist as it grows, with one recommended version of each piece we listen to. Catch up here!
La Trénis, Contredanse by PIerre La Mésangère, British Museum
6 German Dances WoO42 for piano and violin (1796, Beethoven aged 25)
Dedication The ‘Countesses Thun’
Duration 5′
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Background and Critical Reception
William Drabkin, writing in the booklet notes for the Complete Beethoven on DG, confirms the background behind these six short dances for violin and piano.
Beethoven describes them as ‘German dances, to which the two Countesses Thun and other people might dance on their heads and thereby think of their Ludwig Van Beethoven who honours them’. Drabkin confirms Beethoven sent the completed work to Vienna while he was on his concert tour of Berlin and Prague during 1795-96. He writes that ‘One of the two unnamed countesses Beethoven is likely to have intended in the dedication is Christiane, wife of his foremost patron during his first years in Vienna, Prince Karl Lichnowsky.’
The dances could be performed by piano alone, but the violin grows into its role as co-melodist as the dances progress.
Thoughts
Beethoven uses ‘safe’ homes for each of these short dances, all in a major key: F – D – F – A – D – G. They are all perky numbers that prove to be good fun, lightening the mood as they would doubtless have done of an evening.
Piano and violin share the load, the violin often using double stopping as in the drone of the rustic second dance or the attractive no.5. The fourth dance has a nice lilt to it, while no.6, the most substantial, finishes on a high.
Recordings used
David Garrett (violin), Bruno Canino (piano) (Deutsche Grammophon) James Ehnes (violin), Andrew Armstrong (piano) (Signum Classics)
Both performances are thoroughly enjoyable. Ehnes and Armstrong have their collective foot on the accelerator that bit more, dancing with quick feet!
“Ah, perfido!”, Op.65 for soprano and orchestra (1796, Beethoven aged 25)
1. Scena: Ah! perfido, spergiuro 2. Aria: Per pietà, non dirmi addio
Dedication Josepha Duschek Text Pietro Metastasio / Anonymous Duration 14′
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Background and Critical Reception
Beethoven wrote Ah! Perfido as a two-part concert scene and aria, with the Czech soprano Josepha Duschek in mind. He met the singer and her husband on his visit to Prague in 1796, but in the end had to entrust the debut on 21 November to Countess Josephine Clary, because of a clash of engagements. Despite its relatively early genesis the work was not published until 1807, and it appeared on the programme of Beethoven’s famous Akademie concert in 1808.
Many commentators see the roots in Ah! Perfido from Mozart’s writing for voice and orchestra. Writing in The Beethoven Companion, Leslie Orrey sees a clear prototype for the work in Mozart’s Bella mia fiamma, K528 – itself a scene and an aria written for Duschek. Daniel Heartz, in his comprehensive appraisal of early Beethoven, is not so sure.
He writes in typically revealing detail. “Since the text is pathetic, his (Beethoven’s) choice of E flat is appropriate, and so is the form, that of the two-tempo rondo, still the height of fashion in 1796 and just the sort of piece a professional like La Duschek would want to sing. Its languid first part, Adagio in 3/4 time, has a theme that returns after contrast, while the second part, Allegro assai in common time, has a gavotte-like theme that also returns after contrast. The faster transition between the two parts, which appears later, is unusual. It has been claimed that Beethoven modelled Op.65 on Mozart’s Bella mia fiamma. Yet there is little in common between them aside from the form, which Mozart treats more freely still.”
Thoughts
Beethoven puts our emotions through the wringer with this dramatic scene. The orchestra’s brisk introduction sets the picture for our soloist, who is given some powerful and declamatory high notes. Seen live, the effect is arresting, the dialogue with the orchestra like a recitative from a Handel opera, with comments made in quick bursts.
Yet with the solo aria the mood changes markedly. A slow introduction from the orchestra leads to a beautiful melody from the soloist, which requires great control but fully conveys the emotion of the unknown author. Beethoven provides subtle orchestral complements from clarinet and woodwind, and in the middle of the aria we pull back to just the singer and soft pizzicato, a moving moment indeed. Our protagonist is resigned to a troubled end, with fresh drama through a burst from tremolo strings and another heartfelt plea. Finally the slow music returns, rather beautifully.
Recordings used
Elisabeth Schwarzkopf (soprano), Philharmonia Orchestra / Herbert von Karajan (EMI)
Janice Watson (soprano), English Chamber Orchestra / Matthew Best (Hyperion)
Chen Reiss (soprano), Academy of Ancient Music / Richard Egarr (Onyx)
Charlotte Margiono (soprano), Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique / John Eliot Gardiner
Camilla Tilling (soprano), Gabrieli Players / Paul McCreesh (Archiv)
In her interview with Arcana, Chen Reiss talked about approaching Ah! Perfido from two different historical directions. Elisabeth Schwarzkopf brings the romantic drama in a commanding performance, singing with fulsome tone and vibrato. Herbert von Karajan’s sleek orchestral accompaniment makes the piece sound around 70 years younger.
By complete contrast, the leaner tones of the Academy of Ancient Music under Richard Egarr have the excitement of the new, as the strings burst from the blocks. Reiss’s voice is clear and urgent, the words still fresh off the page. Hers is a dramatic account indeed, and Egarr ensures the detail from the orchestra is beautifully shaded.
A mention, too, for Charlotte Margiono, whose clear singing matches John Eliot Gardiner’s detailed account – and for Camilla Tilling, who makes an excellent partnership with Paul McCreesh and the Gabrieli Players. Not quite as dramatic as Reiss and the AAM though!
Spotify links
This playlist collects most of the available versions mentioned above:
You can chart the Arcana Beethoven playlist as it grows, with one recommended version of each piece we listen to. Catch up here!
Also written in 1792 Cimarosa – Gli Orazi e i Curiazi
Ludwig van Beethoven and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (right, in a portrait by Johann Georg Edlinger)
12 Variations on ‘Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen’ from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte Op.66 for piano and cello (1796, Beethoven aged 26)
Dedication thought to be Friedrich Wilhelm II, King of Prussia
Duration 10′
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What’s the theme like?
The theme is Papageno’s aria, from Mozart’s opera Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute), where he expresses his desire for a wife over a glass of wine:
Background and Critical Reception
Beethoven’s flurry of activity writing for the piano and cello in 1796 yielded four works. Alongside the two groundbreaking sonatas published as Op.5 came two sets of unpublished variations, seemingly inspired by the same dedicatee and performers. The first set had fun with music by Handel, yet – as the excellent Beethoven’s Cello book reveals – this one has slightly more serious origins.
‘In all likelihood Beethoven finished these variations after his return to Vienna’, says the book. They were not published until 1819, when they were assigned the opus number 66 – overlooked when the Fifth Symphony was published ten years earlier. The book suggests Beethoven encountered The Magic Flute in Berlin, thanks to Frederick William II’s promotion. The roots of the piece, however, appear to lie in Beethoven’s competitive edge. They may have been designed in response to Abbé Gelinek, a pupil of Beethoven’s teacher Albrechtsberger and a popular piano teacher in Vienna.
Gelinek had already completed a set of ‘frivolous piano variations’ on Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen three years earlier. ‘Beethoven seems to have taken his lead from Gelinek’s six variations by producing twelve’, says the book, ‘starting in the same manner so he could eventually ‘out-compose’ his rival’. Gelinek’s is entertaining and pleasing, but not musically adventurous; Beethoven’s more assertively tests the limits of the theme and probes the possibilities for constructing a little musical drama around it. A contemporary review questioned Beethoven’s potential as a composer, for he was guilty of unusual tonal movements and ‘harmonic harshness’.
Thoughts
Beethoven has a lot of fun here. A perky introduction of the theme sees piano and cello in level partnership, with straightforward musical punctuation. Then, as the variations proceed, both instruments really start to express themselves. The piano offers a nicely weighted variation before the cello shows off its prowess in the higher register. This is Steven Isserlis’ ‘nightmarish’ second variation, the most difficult – and it’s easy to see why, with a high register and some very tricky jumps.
Once that’s over there is a lot for the cello to enjoy in rich, expressive exchanges with the piano, Beethoven’s bubbling stream of ideas showing no sign of letting up. Some are quickfire and virtuosic, others slow and profound, showing off the expressive tone of the cellist. There are also a couple of brisk marches, the second with block chords from the piano. As often seems to be the case with these pieces, the minor-key variation (the tenth) proves pivotal, a plaintive start growing into a substantial and emotional duet with unusual, questioning harmonies. Coming out of this, the two instruments have renewed energy and finish with a flourish.
Recordings used and Spotify links
Adrian Brendel (cello), Alfred Brendel (piano) (Decca) Mischa Maisky (cello), Martha Argerich (piano) (Deutsche Grammophon) Miklós Perényi (cello), András Schiff (piano) (ECM) Steven Isserlis (cello), Robert Levin (fortepiano) (Hyperion) Nicolas Altstaedt (cello), Alexandre Lonquich (piano) (Alpha)
The Spotify playlist below includes all but one of the versions listed above – with the opportunity to hear a clip from Steven Isserlis and Robert Levin’s version on the Hyperion website
Again it is Robert Levin and Steven Isserlis who get the measure of the piece, from its light hearted moments to the deep and questioning minor key variation.
Also written in 1796 Haydn Saper vorrei se m’ami, Hob.XXVa:2
Ludwig van Beethoven and George Frideric Handel (right)
12 Variations on ‘See The Conquering Hero Comes’ from Handel’s Judas Maccabaeus WoO45 for piano and cello (1796, Beethoven aged 26)
Dedication thought to be Friedrich Wilhelm II, King of Prussia
Duration 12′
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What’s the theme like?
Handel’s theme is a chorus from his oratorio Judas Maccabaeus. It is a popular tune which has been turned into a popular Christian hymn, Thine be the glory.
Background and Critical Reception
Soon after the success of his two Op.5 sonatas for piano and cello, Beethoven wrote a couple of sets of variations for the same instrumental combination. The dedicatee appears once again to have been Friedrich Wilhelm II, King of Prussia, with the cello-playing Duport brothers seemingly closely involved.
As Arcana discovered in a previous article, Beethoven’s love of the music of Handel ran deep. Later in his life he was to acquire Samuel Arnold’s first collected edition of Handel’s music (1787-97). Beethoven’s Cello – an excellent and compelling study of his music for the instrument by Marc D. Moskovitz and R. Larry Todd – has an engaging account of the work’s genesis.
It seems likely Beethoven attended a concert of Handel’s oratorio Judas Maccabaeus in Vienna in April 1794, but that his decision to use the ‘conquering hero’ theme came later. There are accounts of a concert in Berlin in 1796, when he improvised on the theme and, as Beethoven’s Cello recounts, ‘his listeners were so moved that they crowded around him and wept’. The decision to include cello ‘is not clear, but perhaps Duport played some role’, says the book.
There are twelve variations, beginning with keyboard-led music but gradually giving greater prominence to the cello. The seventh variation features a challenging display of tumbling triplets in the cello, noted by Moskovitz and Todd as having an affinity with Duport’s sixth etude. This variation is described by Steven Isserlis as the ‘one hideously difficult’ variation of the twelve.
Thoughts
Beethoven’s inspiration flows freely in this immediately likable work. The theme is memorable, one of Handel’s best tunes, and its triumphal air makes an early impact. The two instruments have an enjoyable and lightly spiced interplay, briefly turning baleful in the fourth, minor key variation but resuming its infectious optimism immediately afterwards.
The seventh variation is indeed a nasty one for the cellist, with skittish figures dancing all over the place, but then it’s the pianist’s turn, with a thundering statement. The two resume their ‘dance’, with a triumphant tenth variation – more bravura from the piano – and a substantial coda, with some slower thoughts, which leads to a subtly joyful finish.
Recordings used and Spotify links
Adrian Brendel (cello), Alfred Brendel (piano) (Decca) Mischa Maisky (cello), Martha Argerich (piano) (Deutsche Grammophon) Miklós Perényi (cello), András Schiff (piano) (ECM) Steven Isserlis (cello), Robert Levin (fortepiano) (Hyperion) Nicolas Altstaedt (cello), Alexandre Lonquich (piano) (Alpha)
The Spotify playlist below includes all but one of the versions listed above – with the opportunity to hear a clip from Steven Isserlis and Robert Levin’s version on the Hyperion website
There are some starry accounts of these variations, from father and son pairing Alfred and Adrian Brendel, from Martha Argerich and Mischa Maisky, and András Schiff with Miklós Perényi to name just three excellent versions. However it may not surprise you to learn that Steven Isserlis and Robert Levin pip them at the post with a thoroughly enjoyable account, recreating something of the air in the concert hall after Beethoven’s instinctive improvising in Berlin. Also highly commended is a new version from Alexander Lonquich and Nicolas Altstaedt.
Also written in 1796 Haydn Guarda qui, che lo vedrai Hob.XXVa:1
Next up12 Variations on ‘Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen’ Op.66
Ludwig van Beethoven and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (right, in a portrait by Johann Georg Edlinger)
Ludwig van Beethoven and George Frideric Handel (right)
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