Piano Sonata in F major Op.10 No.2 (1798)

The Sonata in F major is overshadowed by the two companion sonatas written at the same time, between 1796 and 1798, and published with it in the same Op.10 set. The composer would no doubt be surprised and even disappointed if it were not so overshadowd, since it is obviously not the most amitious of his early sonatas and has nothing to compar with, say, the dramatic continuity of the first movemnt of Op.10 No.1 in c minor or the expressive abundance of the Largo of Op.10 No.3 in D major. In a way, however, it is a more mature work than they are. It is more witty than sensational, more ironic than emotional and, since its effect depends on the frustration of conventional expectations, inevitably more a minority taste than a popular one.

In the first movement, for example, the conventional distinction between first and second subject is deliberately blurred. It begins, of course in F major but within a few bars, almost before the little triplet figure and the syncopated rhythms are established as first-subject material, the key has changed to the dominant. Is the broad theme that rise in C major triads in the right hand the second subject already? If it is not, what is – the sudden outburst in C minor or, introduced by a little triplet figure and rhythmic syncopations, is it the comedy dialogue between the quiet soprano and the noisy bass? Whatever it is, the development section ignore it and capriciously devoted itself to a three-chord cadence figure from the end of the exposition. When it does turn its attention to one of the main themes, it is to introduce the first subject in a false recapitulation in D major – which is put right only when questioned by the triplet figure.

Whether the conventional expectation at this point is a slow movement or a scherzo, Beethoven provides neither. The Allegretto is a remarkable study in am biguity. Its dark F minor first theme cadences happily in C major. Conversely, the lyrical stability of the D flat major trio section is disturbed by uncomfortable sforzando jabs on the middle beat of the bar. But, if that was not a scherzo, the last movement is. Or is it? It begins as a fugue, but as a fugue it is something of a joke, and as a joke it develops a serious intensity in the flight of semiquavers before good humour returns in the regular rhythms of yet another variant of the versatile main theme.