Grosse Fuge in B flat major, Op.133 (1826)

The problem with the Grosse Fuge in its original situation - apart from the fact that it adds 15 minutes to a quartet already 30 minutes long - is that it combines fugue not only with sonata form but also with elements of slow movement, scherzo and finale. And the irony is that this, the most comprehensive of all string-quartet movements, threatens to excede the capabilities of the string quartet - even nowadays, when played by instruments that have developed considerably since Beethoven’s time. The composer himself made an arrangement for piano duet. He apparently didn’t think of arranging it for string orchestra - as Mozart had scored his Fugue in C minor when he supplied the Prelude to it in 1788 - but generations of conductors from Gustav Mahler onwards have attempted to demonstrate that the textural and dramatic potential of the Grosse Fuge is best realised not by four string instruments but by dozens of them.

For all his pursuit of the ideal ends rather than adherence to practical in this work Beethoven did, however, make sure that a string quartet would have no difficulty in registering the effect of the major structural interchanges - where second subject takes over from first subject or where, from another point of view, the slow movement begins. The first section, after a brief Overtura offering a unison version of the four-note main theme and a glimpse of the slower second subject, is an extended, consistently loud and argumentative double fugue in B flat major (Allegro). The second section is a suddenly quiet and gently contrapuntal slower episode in G flat major (meno mosso e moderato).

When the tempo picks up again (Allegro molto e con brio) and the metre changes to a rhythmically playful 6/8, a scherzo is about to begin. But it doesn’t last long before it is overwhelmed by another double fugue, the basic four-note motif this time offset by a theme from the scherzo section. Not as thoroughly worked out as the first fugue, it makes way for a daring and highly effective sequence of comparative inactivity, intermittent patches of recapitulation and a short but surgingly impulsive and exhilarating coda.

Gerald Larner©

The Grosse Fuge has always been a challenge and always will be. Originally intended as the sixth and last movement of the String Quartet in B flat, Op.130, it was first performed in that form in Vienna in March 1826 and - much to the composer’s irritation - it met with general incomprehension and even, in some cases, derision. Somehow Beethoven’s publisher Artaria persuaded him to detach the problematic finale, which was to be replaced by a far less demanding rondo, and to allow him to issue it as a separate work, the Grosse Fuge (“Great Fugue”), Op.133.

The problem with the Grosse Fuge in its original situation - apart from the fact that it adds 15 minutes to a quartet already 30 minutes long - is that it combines fugue not only with sonata form but also with elements of slow movement, scherzo and finale. And the irony is that this, the ultimate string-quartet construction, is too big for the string quartet. Beethoven himself made an arrangement for piano duet. He didn’t think of arranging it for string orchestra - there was no such thing in his day - but generations of conductors from Gustav Mahler onwards have set out to demonstrate that the textural and dramatic potential of the Grosse Fuge is best realised not by four string instruments but by dozens of them.

Certainly, the wide variety of colour in the string orchestra helps to identify and to emphasise the effect of the major structural interchange - where second subject takes over from first subject or where, from another point of view, the slow movement begins. The first section, after a brief Overtura offering a unison version of the four-note main theme and a glimpse of the slower second subject, is a consistently loud and argumentative double fugue in B flat major. The second section is a suddenly quiet and gently contrapuntal slower episode in G flat major.

When the tempo picks up again, and the metre changes to a rhythmically playful 6/8, a scherzo is about to begin. But it doesn’t last long before it is overwhelmed by another double fugue, the basic four-note motif this time offset by a theme from the scherzo section. Not so thoroughly worked out as the first fugue, it makes way for a daring and highly effective sequence of comparative inactivity, intermittent patches of recapitulation and a short but surgingly impulsive and exhilarating coda.

Gerald Larner

The Grosse Fuge is Beethoven’s ultimate answer to the inspiration he found decades earlier in Mozart’s Fugue in C minor. Originally intended as the sixth and last movement of the String Quartet in B flat, Op.130, it was first performed in that form in Vienna in March 1826 and - much to the composer’s irritation - it met with general incomprehension and even, in some cases, derision. Somehow Beethoven’s publisher Artaria persuaded him to detach the problematic finale, which was to be replaced by a far less demanding rondo, and to allow him to issue it as a separate work, the Grosse Fuge (“Great Fugue”), Op.133.

The problem with the Grosse Fuge in its original situation - apart from the fact that it adds 15 minutes to a quartet already 30 minutes long - is that it combines fugue not only with sonata form but also with elements of slow movement, scherzo and finale. And the irony is that this, the most comprehensive of all string-quartet movements, is too big for the string quartet. Beethoven himself made an arrangement for piano duet. He didn’t think of arranging it for string orchestra - as Mozart had scored his Fugue in C minor when he supplied the Prelude to it in 1788 - but generations of conductors from Gustav Mahler onwards have attempted out to demonstrate that the textural and dramatic potential of the Grosse Fuge is best realised not by four string instruments but by dozens of them.

For all his pursuit of the ideal ends rather than adherence to practical in this work Beethoven did, however, make sure that a string quartet would have no difficulty in registering the effect of the major structural interchanges - where second subject takes over from first subject or where, from another point of view, the slow movement begins. The first section, after a brief Overtura offering a unison version of the four-note main theme and a glimpse of the slower second subject, is a consistently loud and argumentative double fugue in B flat major. The second section is a suddenly quiet and gently contrapuntal slower episode in G flat major.

When the tempo picks up again, and the metre changes to a rhythmically playful 6/8, a scherzo is about to begin. But it doesn’t last long before it is overwhelmed by another double fugue, the basic four-note motif this time offset by a theme from the scherzo section. Not as thoroughly worked out as the first fugue, it makes way for a daring and highly effective sequence of comparative inactivity, intermittent patches of recapitulation and a short but surgingly impulsive and exhilarating coda.

Gerald Larner