Six Bagatelles, Op.126 (1824)

Beethoven was perhaps the first to realise that if a piece of music is short enough a composer can risk almost anything. With no long-term structure to worry about he can avoid symmetrical shapes, he can break up the continuity, he can afford to bewilder or even irritate the ear and he can digress into the most eccentric rhythmic and harmonic developments without getting lost. In the Bagatelles Op.126, however, he was concerned that his six miniatures should be presented in a coherent sequence. Although there are few thematic links between them, their key relationships – after the first two, in G major G minor respectively, the tonality of each of the remaining pieces is a major third below that of the last – has the desired structural effect: “They probably the best pieces of this kind I have written,” the composer concluded.

Beethoven was perhaps the first to realize that if a piece of music is short enough a composer can risk almost anything. With no long-term structure to worry about he can avoid symmetrical shapes, he can break up the continuity, he can afford to bewilder or even irritate the ear and he can digress into the most eccentric rhythmic and harmonic developments without getting lost. As he was also aware, liberating though the miniature might be in some respects, it imposes severe limitations in others.

Beethoven’s answer to the problem is noted in the margin of a sketch for the first of his Six Bagatelles, Op.126, which bears the words “Ciclus von Kleinigkeiten” - or “cycle of trifles.” Although he had been thinking on vaguely cyclic lines in the previous set of Bagatelles, Op.119, a couple of years earlier, in 1824 he quite deliberately set out to present this latest collection of miniatures as a coherent series. Although there are few thematic links between them, the key sequence is clearly significant: after the first in G major and the second in G minor, the tonality of each of the remaining pieces is a major third below that of the last. “They are probably the best pieces of this kind I have written,” Beethoven told his publisher, who no doubt noted that, while the six pieces do not add up to a beginning and a middle and an end, they do form a natural and logical progression.

As for the short-term peculiarities, the first of the Six Bagatelles is particularly interesting in this respect. It begins modestly enough but, after presenting the opening melody twice in the same key, Beethoven deliberately disorientates the ear in a bewildering variety of harmonic, metrical and structural digressions. There is a similar case of disorientation in the G minor Bagatelle where the toccata figuration of the opening bars duly reappears after a briefly lyrical middle section but both rhythmically and harmonically displaced. The third Bagatelle in E flat major is even bolder in that it is a completely asymmetrical example of spontaneous development in which, after two statements of the opening theme, nothing is repeated.

The next two pieces are more obvious in shape. The fourth Bagatelle alternates a demonic scherzo in B minor with a radiantly simple pastoral trio in B major. The fifth is a ternary construction in G major with an effectively but unadventurously contrived modulation to C major for the barcarolle-like middle section. The sixth Bagatelle, on the other hand, is an extraordinary piece: brief and apparently irrelevant Presto outbursts frame a fragrantly nocturnal Andante. It is almost as though Beethoven were anticipating and at the same time burlesquing the Chopin nocturne.

Beethoven was perhaps the first to realize that if a piece of music is short enough a composer can risk almost anything. But, as he was also aware, liberating though the miniature might be, it also imposes severe limitations. His answer to the problem is noted in the margin of a sketch for the first of his Six Bagatelles, Op.126, which bears the words “Ciclus von Kleinigkeiten” - or “cycle of trifles.” Although he had been thinking on vaguely cyclic lines in the previous set of Bagatelles, Op.119, a couple of years earlier, in 1824 he quite deliberately set out to present this latest collection of miniatures as a coherent series.

While there are few thematic links between the six Bagatelles, the key sequence is clearly significant: after the first in G major and the second in G minor, the tonality of each of the remaining pieces is a major third below that of the last. “They are probably the best pieces of this kind I have written,” Beethoven told his publisher, who no doubt noted that, while the six pieces do not add up to a beginning and a middle and an end, they do form a natural and logical progression.

As for the short-term peculiarities, the first of the Six Bagatelles is particularly interesting in this respect. It begins modestly enough but, after presenting the opening melody twice in the same key, Beethoven deliberately disorientates the listener. He changes the metre from triple to duple, baffles the ear with what modernist composers proudly call a “controlled accelerando” and upsets all metrical and tonal bearings with a cadenza. There is a similar case of disorientation in the G minor Bagatelle where the toccata figuration of the opening bars duly reappears after a briefly lyrical middle section but both rhythmically and harmonically displaced. The harmonies seem to light on G major only by a happy chance, just before they are summarily converted to G minor at the end. The third Bagatelle in E flat major is even bolder in that it is a completely asymmetrical example of spontaneous development in which, after two statements of the opening theme, nothing is repeated.

The next two pieces are more obvious in shape. A double binary construction, the fourth Bagatelle alternates a demonic scherzo in B minor with a radiantly simple pastoral trio in B major. The fifth is a ternary construction in G major with an effectively but unadventurously contrived modulation to C major for the barcarolle-like middle section. The sixth Bagatelle, on the other hand, is an extraordinary piece: brief and apparently irrelevant Presto outbursts frame a fragrantly nocturnal Andante. It is almost as though Beethoven were anticipating and at the same time burlesquing the Chopin nocturne.

Beethoven was perhaps the first to realize that if a piece of music is short enough a composer can risk almost anything. With no long-term structure to worry about he can avoid symmetrical shapes, he can break up the continuity, he can afford to bewilder or even irritate the ear and he can digress into the most eccentric rhythmic and harmonic developments without getting lost. As he was also aware, liberating though the miniature might be in some respects, it imposes severe limitations in others.

Beethoven’s answer to the problem is noted in the margin of a sketch for the first of his Six Bagatelles, Op.126, which bears the words “Ciclus von Kleinigkeiten” or “cycle of trifles.” Although he had been thinking on vaguely cyclic lines in the previous set of Bagatelles Op.119 a couple of    years earlier, in 1824 he quite deliberately set out to present this latest collection of miniatures as a coherent series. Although there are few thematic links between them, the key sequence is clearly significant: after the first in G major and the second in G minor, the tonality of each of the remaining pieces is a major third below that of the last. “They are probably the best pieces of this kind I have written,” Beethoven told his publisher.

As for the short-term peculiarities, the first of the Six Bagatelles is particularly interesting in this respect. It begins modestly enough but, after presenting the opening melody twice in the same key, Beethoven deliberately disorientates the ear in a bewildering variety of harmonic, metrical and structural digressions. There is a similar case of disorientation in the G minor Bagatelle where the toccata figuration of the opening bars duly reappears after a briefly lyrical middle section but both rhythmically and harmonically displaced. The third Bagatelle in E flat major is even bolder in that it is a completely asymmetrical example of spontaneous development in which, after two statements of the opening theme, nothing is repeated.

The next two pieces are more obvious in shape. The fourth Bagatelle alternates a demonic scherzo in B minor with a radiantly simple pastoral trio in B major. The fifth is a ternary construction in G major with an effectively but unadventurously contrived modulation to C major for the barcarolle-like middle section. The sixth Bagatelle, on the other hand, is an extraordinary piece: brief and apparently irrelevant Presto outbursts frame a fragrantly nocturnal Andante. It is almost as though Beethoven were anticipating and at the same time burlesquing the Chopin nocturne.

Beethoven was perhaps the first to realize that if a piece of music is short enough a composer can risk almost anything. With no long-term structure to worry about he can avoid symmetrical shapes, he can break up the continuity, he can afford to bewilder or even irritate the ear and he can digress into the most eccentric rhythmic and harmonic developments without getting lost. As he was also aware, liberating though the miniature might be in some respects, it imposes severe limitations in others.

Beethoven’s answer to the problem is noted in the margin of a sketch for the first of his Six Bagatelles, Op.126, which bears the words “Ciclus von Kleinigkeiten” - or “cycle of trifles.” Although he had been thinking on vaguely cyclic lines in the previous set of Bagatelles, Op.119, a couple of years earlier, in 1824 he quite deliberately set out to present this latest collection of miniatures as a coherent series. Although there are few thematic links between them, the key sequence is clearly significant: after the first in G major and the second in G minor, the tonality of each of the remaining pieces is a major third below that of the last. “They are probably the best pieces of this kind I have written,” Beethoven told his publisher, who no doubt noted that, while the six pieces do not add up to a beginning and a middle and an end, they do form a natural and logical progression.

As for the short-term peculiarities, the first of the Six Bagatelles is particularly interesting in this respect. It begins modestly enough but, after presenting the opening melody twice in the same key, Beethoven deliberately disorientates the listener. He changes the metre from triple to duple, baffles the ear with what modernist composers proudly call a “controlled accelerando” (much the same phrase in quavers, triplet quavers, then semi-quavers) and upsets all metrical and tonal bearings with a cadenza. After that, he disguises the ternary shape of the piece by reintroducing the theme in G major low in the left hand against a distracting counterpoint in the right.

There is a similar case of disorientation in the G minor Bagatelle where the toccata figuration of the opening bars duly reappears after a briefly lyrical middle section but both rhythmically and harmonically displaced. The harmonies seem to light on G major only by a happy chance, just before they are summarily converted to G minor at the end. The third Bagatelle in E flat major is even bolder in that it is a completely asymmetrical example of spontaneous development in which, after two statements of the opening theme, nothing is repeated.

The next two pieces are more obvious in shape. A double binary construction, the fourth Bagatelle alternates a demonic scherzo in B minor with a radiantly simple pastoral trio in B major. The fifth is a ternary construction in G major with an effectively but unadventurously contrived modulation to C major for the barcarolle-like middle section. The sixth Bagatelle, on the other hand, is an extraordinary piece: brief and apparently irrelevant Presto outbursts frame a fragrantly nocturnal Andante. It is almost as though Beethoven were anticipating and at the same time burlesquing the Chopin nocturne.

Gerald Larner©