Sonata (quasi una fantasia) in E flat major, Op.27, No.1

Beethoven was uncharacteristically cautious when he offered his pair of Piano Sonatas in E flat major and C sharp minor for publication in 1801. He subtitled both of them “Quasi una fantasia,” evidently as a warning that they are freely written and might not meet with sonata-form expectations. As far as the one in C sharp minor was concerned- which won popular affection even before the “Moonlight” title was bestowed on it - he need not have worried. With its companion in E flat major - an eccentric construction with only the shortest of breaks between the four movements - the precaution was wisely taken.

It begins with what is, on the one hand, a set of variations and, on the other hand, is not. The simple opening theme, in two parts of four bars with each part repeated, is clearly presented as a subject for variation. A variation does in fact follow, preserving the same key and the same number of bars in the classical manner. Less classically, but harmlessly, a second variation presents the theme in almost its original form. Then, without warning, there is a loud interruption in C major, in Allegro tempo and in vigorous 6/8 time, in the manner of a toccata rather than cantabile in style and quite unpredictable by any classical standards. The Andante and its theme are reasserted immediately after the interruption as if nothing had happened. But, while this recapitulation marks the end of the movement, it is not the end of the influence of the 6/8 Allegro in C major, which is surely the origin of the Allegro molto e vivace scherzo that follows directly on the first movement.

The last two movements, an Adagio in A flat and an Allegro vivace in E flat major, are interlocked in much the same way as the first two. Like the opening Andante, the eloquently expressive Adagio is constructed in four-bar phrases, not for variation this time but to create a sense of security that is to be jolted by the sudden onset of the Allegro vivace. In this case, however, the shock is mitigated by two intervening bars of cadenza. There is another concession in that the Allegro vivace is the nearest approach to a sonata-form construction in the whole work. It is a sonata-rondo of classical regularity - until, just at the point where a quicker coda might be expected to sweep the movement to its conclusion, the first eight bars of the Adagio make an incongruous but structurally inspired reappearance. Only then, after another short cadenza, is the Presto coda released.

While Beethoven was never a composer with too much respect for convention, he was so conscious of the misunderstanding that his two Piano Sonatas, Op.27, were likely to encounter that, when he offered them for publication in 1801, he supplied both of them with a disclaimer. Each one is subtitled “Quasi una fantasia,” indicating that it is freely written, somewhat in the manner of a fantasia, and that it might not meet with everyone’s expectations of a sonata.

As far as Op.27, No.2, in C sharp minor was concerned - a work popularly known for the last hundred and fifty years as the “Moonlight” Sonata - he need not have worried. With its companion in E flat major, however, the precaution was wisely taken. To be played with only the shortest of pauses between the four movements, it is an eccentric construction with no precedent even among Beethoven’s compositions. It begins with what is, on the one hand, a set of variations and, on the other hand, is not. The simple opening theme, in two parts of four bars with each part repeated, is clearly presented as a subject for variation. A variation does in fact follow, preserving the same key and the same number of bars in the classical manner. Less classically, but harmlessly, a second variation presents the theme in almost its original form - still in E flat major, still poised in its 2/2 metre, still song-like in style. Then, without warning, there is a loud interruption in C major, in Allegro tempo and in vigorous 6/8 time, toccata rather than cantabile in manner and quite unpredictable by any classical standards.

The Andante and its theme are reasserted immediately after the interruption as if nothing had happened. But, although this recapitulation marks the end of the movement, it is not the end of the influence of the 6/8 Allegro in C major. That episode is surely the origin of the Allegro molto e vivace that follows directly on the first movement. A triple-time scherzo in C minor thematically related to the Allegro episode, this too, is a definitely non-vocal inspiration, even in the central trio section.

The last two movements, an Adagio in A flat and an Allegro vivace in E flat major, are interlocked in much the same way as the first two. Like the opening Andante, the eloquently expressive Adagio is constructed in four-bar phrases - not for variation this time but to create a sense of security that is to be jolted by the sudden onset of the Allegro vivace. In this case, however, the shock is mitigated by two intervening bars of cadenza. There is another concession in that the Allegro vivace is the nearest approach to a sonata-form construction in the whole work. It is a sonata-rondo of classical regularity - but not quite. Just at the point where a quicker coda might be expected to sweep the movement to its conclusion the first eight bars of the Adagio make an incongruous but structurally inevitable reappearance. Only then, after another short cadenza, is the Presto coda released.

Sonata (quasi una fantasia) in E flat major Op.27 No.1 (1800-1)

Andante - allegro - andante -

Allegro molto e vivace -

Adagio con espressione -

Allegro vivace - adagio - presto

Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915)

Vers la flamme Op.72 (c 1914)

Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)

Six Piano Pieces, Op.118 (1892-3)

Intermezzo in A minor: allegro non assai ma molto passionato

Intermezzo in A major: andante teneramente

Ballade in G minor: allegro energico

Intermezzo in F minor: allegretto un poco agitato

Romance in F major: andante

Intermezzo in E flat minor: andante, largo e mesto

Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849)

Impromptu No.1 in A flat major Op.29 (1837)

Impromptu in F sharp major Op.36 (1839)

Andante spianato et Grande Polonaise in E flat major Op.22 (1831-5)

Beethoven started it. While it might seem unreasonable to identify him as the source of an extravagantly mystical effusion like Scriabin’s Vers la flamme, Beethoven did establish the piano as a congenial instrument for metaphysical speculation in his visionary late sonatas. He had shaken off the most inhibiting sonata conventions long before that, notably in the two sonatas he published with the significant disclaimer “quasi una fantasia” - the so-called “Moonlight”in C sharp minor and its less familiar companion in E flat major. The latter work, which we hear today, has its own entirely distinctive shape. Designed to be played with only the shortest of pauses between the four movements, it interlocks the first two by having the Allegro intervention in the opening Andante motivate the following Allegro molto vivace and links the other two by recalling the Adagio con espressione shortly before the end of the Allegro vivace finale.

It is quite possible to be sceptical about Scriabin’s transcendental mission to regenerate the world through his art and at the same time to experience the spiritual elation of a work like Vers la flamme, which is central to the composer’s vision of an ultimate, purifying consummation in flames. It begins modestly in harmonic musing but, once it has defined its questioning two-note main theme, proceeds “with more and more tumultuous joy” to a incandescent climax of ecstatic trills and tremolandos, and the refulgent repeated chords characteristic of Scriabin’s apocalyptic keyboard apparatus.

Brahms, whose feet were more firmly on the ground, can have had little interest for Scriabin. His last piano works, however - the four sets of short pieces Op.116 to Op.119 written during summer holidays at Ischl in 1892 and 1893 - contain inspirations as poetic and as intimate as any in the Chopin works so adored by Scriabin. As Brahms wrote to Clara when he posted the pieces to her, “Even one listener is one too many.” Clara, he knew, would register the allusions to the traditional melody of the Dies Irae, in the opening and closing Intermezzos, and see the point of the gradually sinking tonality of the collection from A minor to E flat minor, which leaves the sequence eloquently incomplete on the most poignant of all his piano pieces.

Whatever reason Chopin had for withholding his earliest impromptu from publication - it was first published under the title Fantaisie-Impromptu in C sharp minor six years after his death - he did not forget it. The Impromptu No.1 in A flat major, Op.29, has so much in common with it, both in its ternary structure and its thematic material, as to qualify almost as another version of the same thing. The Impromptu No.2 in F sharp major is far more adventurous, above all in the strangely aggressive march in the middle section. “It might not be any good,” said Chopin, “I can’t judge it yet. It’s too new…We’ll see in time.”

The Grande Polonaise in E flat for piano and orchestra, which was written in Vienna in 1831, was always meant to have an introductory companion piece. The Andante spianato had to wait, however, until Chopin needed something new for an important concert in Paris four years later. Finding nothing incongruous in an extended solo-piano introduction to a piece for piano and orchestra and obviously untroubled by the stylistic disparity between the two, the Paris audience greeted the Andante spianato et Grande Polonaise with extraordinary enthusiasm. Nowadays the work is scarcely ever heard in orchestral concerts. The polonaise is easily adapted to solo use and is every bit as brilliant in that form.